Chapter 4: Community Service
I found Bernadette in her usual spot, sitting in her rocker, staring at her laptop monitor. I moved quickly through the family room, dragging my backpack, hoping I wouldn’t get caught. After a full morning of running up and down the hallways, wheeling the folk from one activity to another, handing out lunch trays and clearing them away, not to mention the Gertrude Weiss incident, I wasn’t up for a conversation about my day.
“Good. You’re home.”
Too late. Damn!
“You ought to try this. Be surprised how much fun it is.” Bernadette looked up from her computer.
She was talking about f*******:. She loved reconnecting with friends—yes, she did have them—people who knew her and Jim as a couple way back when. Even before I entered the picture.
I said we’d had that
