LANA
"You know, it would be nice if they actually gave you some croutons with this thing," Nomie mutters, moving a fork around her salad. "They drown the greens, then leave you high and dry with the croutons. I swear this is the last time I'm getting this stupid thing here." Taking a big bite, she manages to smear French dressing across her mouth, and I have to look away until she wipes at it with the napkin.
"You always say that. But then you turn around and order it again every time we come back here," I say with an exasperated grin.
She just shrugs her shoulders and shields her eyes from the sun. "I think I'm just crabby. It's probably the heat getting to me. Sometimes I like to imagine what October feels like in Maine, instead of this blazing hell. It's like Vegas is allergic to changing seasons."
She isn't wrong. I've lived out here my whole life and have rarely left. The only changing of seasons I know is going from mild sweating to the burning depths of hell. "How did Katie's project turn out by the way? I was meaning to ask you about it."
"It was fantastic. She was so proud of herself, explaining all the body systems to the class and pointing to everything just like you showed her. I'm pretty sure she got an A on it," Nomie smiles. She'd called me a week before, nearly in tears, begging me to help her daughter Katie with her science project on the human body. Even though Nomie is a stay-at-home mom and had time to help her with it, she felt like it might make more sense coming from me, an actual nurse.
"I'm glad to know my job came in handy with her."
"I bet Olivia's project was brilliant. She's such a smart cookie, that girl," Nomie says.
"It was," I reply, my own cheeks blushing with pride. My daughter, Olivia, is wise beyond her years in ways that still mystify me. Her schoolwork is only one way she excels, particularly in science. "The teacher was very impressed."
A quick bzz-bzz goes off in my purse, and I drop my gaze for a moment, reminding myself that now is not the time, and ignore it, but I'm not quick enough and Nomie picks up on it. "Have you heard anything from Javier lately?"
It's so very hard not to grit my teeth. I don't want to think about Javier or anything to do with him. In fact, he's the very last thing I want to think about.
I take another sip of my soup now that it's completely cooled off, pretending as though Nomie didn't bring him up. The phone buzzes again, and I ignore it, again. If the school needed me, I know they’d call.
Next to us, a young couple in their early twenties take a seat out here on the patio, holding hands and making me want to vomit—just a little. Live it up while you can, girl, I think. Just don't make the mistake of marrying the guy.
"I'll take that as a no," Nomie finally says, watching my expression. Realizing that she's not getting a word about my ex-husband out of me, she switches gears. "Have you had any more interviews this week?"
This I'm totally fine talking about. "I did have one earlier this week, but I'm thinking it's not going to work out."
She frowns, poking at the salad some more. "How come?"
When I pull up the image in my head of the patient, I just shake my head. "Well, he's a recent amputee. In his mid-forties. But he managed to insult me in the same breath that he tried complimenting me on my 'delicious-looking tits.' So. There's that."
"Ugh. Men are fucking pigs, Lana. Don't worry about that asshole, I'm sure there will be another interview with someone way more appropriate and respectful than that."
I nod along with her again, but I'm not as confident as she is, I guess. Since Mr. Aberdeen passed, I'm in desperate need of a job if I want to work my own hours and not have to go back to working at the hospital.
"And of course, you know that if you need me to, I'd be happy to watch Olivia. She and Katie get along so well, it would be my pleasure,” Nomie adds, pointing at me with her fork.
"I know, Nomie, and believe me, I appreciate it very much."
Working at the hospital again would mean those horrible twelve-hour shifts, and with me essentially starting over as the junior staff nurse, I'd probably get stuck with the graveyard shift since no one wants to work it. It's not like I could turn down any kind of specific shift —not if I needed the job.
No. I just need to keep looking for a private hospice care job so Olivia doesn't have to miss out on so much time with me. It's bad enough that if I do end up going back to the hospital, that it'll be a pay cut for me after working with Mr. Aberdeen and his wealthy family.
I think about Olivia, sitting at the table working on her science project, so lost in thought that the tip of her tongue is just poking out as she smooths over the last bits of papier mache. A job at the hospital won't pay for the private school I'm dying to get my baby into. She's so smart and I worry about her getting lost in the crowd at her public elementary school, but the private school is just so damn expensive, even with the pay I was making before.
When the phone goes off yet again, I sigh and start to pull it out of my purse before Nomie pats my hand. "Leave it for later, girl. There's no need to deal with it now. You deserve a nice relaxing lunch with your friend. And girl, this is a drama-free zone. Drama. Free."
"We better make it a quick drama-free lunch," I say, looking down at my watch. "Because it's just about time to pick up the kids."
--
The sun really is blazing overhead as I hang my arm out the window, sitting shotgun in Nomie's minivan. As usual, the car rider lane is curved all around the front parking lot, full of impatient parents ready to hurry up and be done with the long day.
The bell rings, the double-doors fly open and here comes the stream of grade-schoolers pouring down the steps to the parking lot. Kids hopping on their bikes and taking off, or older students walking down the side roads to their homes. After they've all finished trickling out, a small group of teachers on walkie-talkies comes to stand by the wide sidewalk, looking over the car rider numbers hanging from everyone's rearview mirrors, and calling out their child's number.
Eventually, we move up to the front, the short lady with the bright orange blouse shouting over the radio a little louder than necessary. A moment later Katie and Olivia come out of the double-doors, Katie talking animatedly as Olivia nods, listening. The look on Olivia's face is too grown to belong to a seven-year-old if you ask me, but that's how it is with my baby. While Katie is a sweet girl, very friendly and outgoing, always asking for Olivia to come and play, Olivia is more reserved. Not necessarily shy, no, but incredibly observant and aware of her surroundings. She picks up on things that most children her age or even slightly older, wouldn't.
Katie's loud giggle can be heard from a mile away, just like Nomie's and it just kills me how much they are alike. You don't have to be close to them to tell they have a special relationship, and even though I can get a little jealous over that... I have to admit that in a way, I'm glad Olivia is so different from me.
I'm pretty sure that Olivia is sometimes even smarter than me, which makes me both incredibly proud, and feeling a little nervous for the future. She'll grow up to be a force of nature one day, of that much I'm sure, but it's going to be up to me to make sure she gets the chance to live up to her true potential. I need to at least give her that much.
The van's doors open and Katie comes barreling in at full speed, already chattering about something that happened during recess today. Olivia slides in quietly, putting her backpack down before leaning forward and wrapping her arms around me in the passenger seat. "Hi, Mom. How was your day?"
I can't help but laugh at her, my little grown-up girl. "Hey," I chuckle, "I'm the parent here. That's supposed to be my line."
Nomie pulls out of the parking lot right as my phone rings, and this time, someone is making the effort of actually calling me. Shooting Nomie a beleaguered look as she glances at me from the corner of her eye, I take a deep breath in. I might as well get this over with, then.
But when I look down at the phone, it's not Javier's name on the screen, thankfully. I answer, the knot in my stomach untwisting some. "Hello?"
"Hello, may I please speak with Lana Romero?"
"This is she…" I reply, wondering who this woman could be.
"Hello, Ms. Romero, my name is Thelma. Do you have a moment to chat about an in-home care position?"
My heart starts drumming at a different rhythm. "Absolutely. How can I help you?"
"To be frank, you came highly recommended for in-home care for my confidential client, through the hospice services we've checked out. My client is recovering from a recent spinal surgery. The pay would be, well, substantial. Would you be available for an interview, Ms. Romero?"
I chew on my lip, trying not to let my hopes get too high. "I am available, yes." I take down the information Thelma gives me, grabbing a pen from my purse and writing on an extra napkin I find in the glove compartment.
Through the rearview, I see Olivia's big brown eyes watching me carefully. I sigh, relieved, as I hang up the phone, and meet her gaze while giving her a thumbs-up and a smile. I hate to see the way the little lines on her face ease away as she relaxes, the slight frown turning upward as she gives me a thumbs-up, too. Guilt pricks at my chest as I think about how much she picks up on. She shouldn't have to be aware of just how tight things are for us right now. Or just how much I dread hearing from her father.