Chapter Seventeen
Grace
I sat on the edge of my bed with my phone as I stared at all the boxes around me. It had taken me three days to pack my things up, and in that time Hayden hadn’t once talked to me. I had received my last paycheck underneath the crack of the guest bedroom door and that had been it. I couldn’t believe it. My heart was breaking. Every time I heard Hayden struggling or grunting or trying to get dressed, I wanted to go help him. Rush to him and try to get him steady on his own feet. I’d hear him slam against the wall or trip getting into his wheelchair or falling against the kitchen counter and there was nothing I could do.
It wasn’t my job anymore to help him.
“Emmy’s Flowers, this is Emilia speaking. How can I help you today?”
“Hey. It’s me.”
“Grace?”
“Yep.”
“Hey! What are you doing calling me at work?”
“I wanted to ask you a question,” I said.
“Then ask it, sweet cheeks.”
“Is that job you offered me still on the table?”
The silence that hung between us was deadly. And for a little while, I thought maybe it wasn’t. That she’d taken my advice and hired for the position already. That would be my luck, for me to turn down one job in favor of another only to have both of them taken from me. I put my head in my hands and placed my elbows on my knees and tried to block out the grunting and slamming around I heard in the room next to me.
“It is for you,” Emilia said.
“What do I need to do to get it back?” I asked.
“Come in tomorrow at nine sharp and help me with these damn azaleas. But I’m confused.”
“About the azaleas?”
“No. About your call. I thought you were keeping the position with your patient? At least, that’s the impression I got a week ago.”
“Well, that’s no longer the case. He doesn’t need full-time in-home assistance any longer, so my expertise are no longer necessary.”
“His loss. My gain. I’m glad to have you back, Grace. This place has missed you.”
“I was also hoping I could ask you for some advice.”
“On what?”
“Housing. I got rid of my own apartment to move in full-time with my patient, and now I need a place to stay,” I said.
“Oh, I’ve got that covered. My friend Ivy has been looking for someone to take up the spare space in her apartment for a while. She can’t foot that rent bill by herself but she’s been struggling to find a decent roommate. I’ll hook the two of you up.”
“I really appreciate that. Thank you.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“About what?” I asked.
“Why this guy fired you?”
I sighed into the phone as I fell back onto the bed. I really didn’t. Because talking to Emilia about this meant getting into why I was actually upset at the situation. Why I actually didn’t want to leave. Why I really had wanted to stay.
And there was no use in admitting anything now. All of that had been some idiotic illusion concocted in my own head.
Maybe I wasn’t cut out to be an in-home nurse at all.
“Not really. But if you could get me Ivy’s number, I’d really appreciate it,” I said.
“No problem. I’ll send it to you in a text message and you can give her a call.”
“Thanks, Emilia.”
“No problem. And if you can’t start tomorrow, let me know. Whenever you get moved and settled, you can start then.”
“I really appreciate it.”
“Trust me, I do too. Though I get the feeling you’re upset about the whole thing. But don’t worry. I won’t press if you don’t want to talk. Just know I’m here if you do.”
I hung up the phone and waited for her to send me that text. I couldn't make a move until I knew where I was headed. I heard the sounds of Hayden’s wheelchair coming down the hallway and I held my breath. I didn’t want him to hear me in here feeling sorry for myself. I didn’t want him to think he had gotten the best of me. I didn’t want him to know how heartbroken I was at what had happened between the two of us. How I had completely misconstrued our interactions into some stupid fantasy.
But when his wheelchair stopped, I saw a shadow sitting outside of my door.
My phone lit up in my hand, but part of me wanted to ignore it. To throw open the door and see him sitting there. What? He was going to eavesdrop on what I was doing now? Hadn’t he done enough damage for one man?
I tapped the number in the text message and held the phone up to my ear. If he wanted to hear this conversation, then I wasn’t going to make it easy for him.
“This is Ivy.”
“Hi. I um… well, my name is Grace Hunter. We have a mutual friend. Emilia?”
“Oh. Yes! Hi. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine. Um… well, I was talking to Emilia about needing a place to stay since I’m moving, and she said you had a spare bedroom in your apartment?”
“Yes, I’ve been looking to rent the thing out for months. How do you know Emilia?”
“I worked at the shop with her,” I said.
“Wait. Are you the nursing student she hired in a few years back?”
“That’s me,” I said with a grin.
“Girl, you are too cute. I come into the floral shop all the time and bring Emilia lunch. You’re always whistling in the back. I can’t whistle like that.”
“Hah! I didn’t think anyone was listening to that kind of stuff.”
“I was. Emilia and I go way back, so if she trusted you to work there, then you’re alright by me,” Ivy said with a giggle. “Look, if you need a room, it’s yours. I’ll draw up a quick contract and you can rent it however long you need.”
“I really appreciate that a lot.”
“When were you looking to move in?”
“Soon, since I’m staring at a floor full of boxes.”
“Yikes. Well, I’m technically out of town right now at a design show, but I can call the front desk and have them leave you a key for the apartment. It’ll be the key you take with you anyway. So you can move in whenever you’re ready. Is this your cell number?”
“It is.”
“I’ll shoot you the address.”
“You don’t want to run a background check or anything?” I asked.
“Are you telling me I need to?”
“No, no. Not at all. I just… didn’t think it would be this easy.”
“I know Emilia. I’ve known her for many years. And she doesn’t befriend people I don’t trust. There isn’t anyone she’s encountered and liked that I haven’t enjoyed in return. The rent for the room will be $650 a month, but that includes half of the utilities as well. Then you’ll be responsible for your own groceries and such.”
“I can do that,” I said.
“I’ll shoot you the address then call the front desk. And if you get there to move in and they give you troubles, call me. I’ll set ‘em straight.”
“Sounds good,” I said with a smile. “And thank you so much. This really helps me out a lot.”
“Just tell Grace I expect a percentage off my floral arrangements for whenever I eventually decide to get married.”
I giggled and shook my head as I looked over towards the door. I saw the shadow move underneath the crack of the door before Hayden’s wheelchair could be heard riding down the hallway. What in the world was he doing? What was his problem? Whatever it was, it wasn’t my issue any longer. He’d be some part-time nurse’s problem, and there was a small part of me that was relieved at that prospect.
A small part.
The tiniest part of me that was fed up with his antics.
“I’ll see what I can negotiate,” I said.
“I knew you were good people. Let me get off here and get you that address. You’ll be the room on the right side of the apartment. Behind the kitchen. You’ll see what I mean when you get there.”
“Perfect. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Message incoming!”
My phone lit up in my hand just before the call cut off. I was familiar with the road the apartment sat on. It was a nice enough area and I was thankful to have a place to stay, but I was sad to be moving out of Hayden’s place. I loved it here. The views. The luxuriousness of it all. The space to move about. And his library? Ugh, I would miss his library. It made me want to start a library of my own, and with the money he’d paid me over the past three months I could do that four times over.
And still have enough to invest for retirement.
I scooted myself up onto the bed and scrolled through my phone. I needed a moving company to help me out a bit. I wouldn’t be able to get all of these things into my car and across town. I found a local moving company that worked moving men into their final price, and I chose the smallest van necessary. I had a minimal amount of furniture that needed to be hauled from storage before the guys got to Hayden’s place. A bed, the frame, and a dresser. That was it. Besides the boxes of clothes and toiletries that surrounded me, that was all I had to my name.
I was so busy with nursing school that it forced me to live minimally. Enough to make me feel like I was living a decent life but not enough to hold me back if I ever had to pack up and leave. In a way, I’d always lived my life like that. Minimally and with no regard for anything frilly or decadent. Hayden had most certainly turned that upside down and slammed it on its head, but it wouldn’t be hard to revert. I never did need money or anything like that.
It didn’t rule me like it did some people.
“Harper’s Movers, how may I direct your call?”
“Yes, I’m looking for your smallest van and a team of two or three movers to help me out,” I said.
“What’s your move-out date and what’s the address?”
“It’s a bit complicated. Is it possible to have a team and a van put together by tomorrow morning?”
“Yes, ma’am. What’s the address?”
“There’s three, actually. I’ve got some things in a shared apartment as well as a storage unit I need picked up.”
“The extra address will jack up the price.”
“I’m aware, and that’s okay. I just need my stuff moved as quickly as possible.”
“Then give me those addresses and we’ll see what we can do for you!”
I rattled off the addresses I needed them for and I was relieved when they said they could piece something together for tomorrow. The movers and the van would stop off by the storage unit at nine in the morning, which meant I had to call the storage lot owner and make sure he didn’t try to stop them from getting my things. Then, they would head to Hayden’s apartment and help me with all the boxes before driving everything across town to help me unload. I needed to make sure I had money to tip them for their efforts, but other than that I was set.
One more phone call and a run to the bank, and everything would be in place.
I stood up from my bed and walked over to the bedroom door. I couldn't hear Hayden talking to himself or getting frustrated or wheeling around anywhere. In fact, I couldn't hear anything at all. I opened the door and poked my head out into the hallway, and the eerie silence made me shiver.
I wanted to call out for him to see if he was okay. But then I reminded myself that it wasn’t my job any longer.
He could take care of himself.
He made all of that perfectly clear after he smacked my hand like an incessant toddler.
I walked into the kitchen to get myself something to drink. I didn’t have anything else to pack up, so the waiting game was all I had. I decided to make myself a cup of coffee, and in all that time there wasn’t a sound to be heard in the apartment. Hayden must’ve gone off somewhere. Possibly interviewing other nurses for him to torture through his recuperation. Part of me was worried he would hurt himself out there, but part of me didn’t care.
Part of me couldn't care if I was going to get out of here with my heart intact.
At least I was going to try.
But as the day passed, Hayden never returned. I tried calling his phone once nightfall began, but I never heard back from him. I ended up calling his mother to see if she had heard from him, and the first thing out of her mouth was an apology for how her son had acted.
Then she informed me he was there at her house. Sitting and staring out the window into that backyard garden.
At least he was safe.
I took a stroll down the hallway and found myself in the library. I really was going to miss the solace of his books. I sat on the couch and blinked back tears, trying not to get overly emotional. I looked around the room and committed some of the titles of the books to memory before I decided to get up and go to sleep. I had a long day of moving in the morning and I needed to make sure I was alert.
But something caught my eye.
In the corner, on a small round table near the window, was a notebook and a pen. It had always been there, but with Hayden no longer in the apartment with me it somehow felt appropriate. I didn’t want to leave things like this between us. I didn’t want to leave without saying anything to him. I’d spent the past three months catering to him. Getting to know him. Living with him.
That was intimate. Even if it wasn’t romantic.
But the smallest part of me wanted him to know how I felt. Wanted him to know how he had tugged at my heart and entranced my mind and caught my stare. He deserved to know that, despite how he was treating me. He deserved to know that a woman could care for him even while he was in that wheelchair. That it didn’t make him any less of a man that could provide for someone.
So I walked over to the table, pulled up a small chair from the corner, and began to write.