“Sure.” I lock the wheelchair in place, glancing back to see Laura closing the door behind her, and follow Nell out the door.
With a huff, Nell takes the chair farthest away, presumably to keep her smoke sequestered from me, but the light breeze on the air ensures it’ll blow in my face.
“Can you imagine? Three-hundred grand for a fucking doll?” she asks, plopping into the seat. “I can’t even afford a decent used car, and she’s dropping cash on a goddamn doll that she keeps locked up in a box with all her other toys.”
“It’s definitely not something I’m accustomed to. I can think of a lot of things I’d spend that kind of money on.”
“You and me both.” As she lifts the cigarette to her lips, I notice her shirt pulled up to her elbows, revealing a couple tattoos.
I nod toward the anchor inked on the back of her wrist. “Nice ink.”
Taking a long drag, she twists her arm, then blows the smoke to the side. “Thanks. It’s my little reminder.”
“Of what?”
“To hold on. Stay grounded.” She pauses for a moment, before taking another drag and staring off. “I got a son. Lives with my sister. Been busting my ass to get him back.”
“Does he live far?”
“California. That’s where I’m from. Why I decided to come out to this shit island, I’ll never know, but here I am.”
“Was it school that made you move so far away?”
She runs her tongue across the bottom of her teeth, seemingly lost in quiet contemplation. “I was an addict for five years. Alcohol, pills, coke. Whatever I could get my hands on, I did it.”
A part of me isn’t surprised. Call it radar I’ve picked up from having a junkie mom, but this woman had former addict written all over her face. Just strange that she chose to be a nurse, administering drugs.
She scratches her chin with her thumb. “Keep that to yourself. I’ve passed all the drug tests, and I don’t have any criminal history. I’m just an LPN right now. Still going to school.”
“I think that’s great. Takes a lot to turn things around like that.”
“Yeah. It’s been rough sometimes.” Her eyes fall to my wrist, and she juts her chin toward it. “What’s yours?”
I run my thumb over the word inked on my arm. The tattoo I got a few months after things started to settle down a bit, and I was finally able to get out of bed. “I’ve been through some stuff, too. Not drugs, but … personal stuff.”
“I didn’t tell you my shit to get all personal. You asked. I answered.”
“I’m sorry. It’s not an easy topic for me.”
“It’s okay. I get it.” Stuffing her cigarette butt into the cup beside her, she blows off the last of her smoke. “Look, I wanted to ask you, I have something going on this evening. I don’t want to make a big fuss and have them call in another nurse. Any chance you can keep an eye on her tonight? Just until about ten, or so?”
“What if she has a nightmare? I mean, I don’t even know what to give for medications.”
“Half her medications are sugar pills.”
“Seriously?”
“She had a bad addiction to Valium for a while. Sometimes, there’s just no reasoning with her. When she has those nightmares? It’s mostly me settling her down. Haven’t had to give her anything in months.”
“Here I thought you guys were over-medicating her, or something.”
“If we don’t give her anything, she freaks the fuck out. One sugar pill?” She smacks her hands together. “She’s down like it’s the real deal.”
“That’s crazy.”
“So is she. Anyway, is it cool if I sneak out a couple hours?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“If she has a nightmare, you mostly just have to hold her down, so she doesn’t hurt herself. But watch yourself, too.” Her lips twist with a smile. “Woman’s got a nasty left hook.”
“Okay.”
“I’m gonna go now.” Pushing up from the chair, she grabs the cup full of cigarette butts from the railing of the balcony. A day’s worth, I’d bet. “If she asks where I went, tell her I had to run out to renew a script, or something. That’ll make her giddy. And thanks for this,” she says, before slipping back inside.
“No problem.”
Shit. There are a number of things I suck at, but lying certainly takes the cake. As Nell makes her great escape, the door to what I presume is Laura’s bathroom clicks, and I head back in.
“Nell, please help me to bed!”
Awkward smile plastered to my face, I enter her room and stride toward her. “Nell went to grab a script. She asked me to help you.”
“She’s supposed to tell me when she leaves. Suppose I had a heart attack just now. Or a stroke. Are you equipped to deal with that? Certainly not.”
Definitely not, but I don’t bother to tell her that would be the case whether Nell informed her, or not. Instead, I pull back the covers and steady her arm, while she scoots herself up onto the bed.
“Will you read to me, Isa?” Laura tucks the blanket around her and lies back on the pile of plush pillows behind her.
“Of course. Any requests?”
“That one.” She points toward a murder mystery in the stack beside her.
I open the book, and something flutters out from the pages of it. Bending forward to grab what looks to be a photograph, I reach out and turn it over. On the other side is an image of two young boys, no more than ten, I’m guessing, standing side by side. By the color of his hair and eyes, it’s clear the one on the left is Lucian. Arm wrapped around the back of Lucian’s neck, the other boy wears a wily smirk on his face that makes me smile. Wet hair and sand scattered over their shirtless chests suggest they’re at the beach.
“What is it you have there?” Laura asks.
I hand off the picture to her, and her eyes crinkle with the smile she gives. “Oh, look at this. My Lucian and his best friend, Jude. Ten years old in this picture, if I recall.” The smile on her face withers to a frown. “Such a shame, what happened to that boy.”
“What happened?”
“Ah, it was all over the news, his father being so well known. The two were playing down in a cave. Must’ve been about four years after this photo was taken.”
“How old is Lucian now?”
“Oh, let’s see.” Tapping her cheek, she looks away, seems contemplative for a moment, and I wonder if she’ll remember, at all. “He’s going to be thirty-three in December.”
Thirty-three. Strange to think that I wasn’t even born when that picture was taken. “I’m sorry, go on.”
“So, anyway, they liked to explore. Boys, you know. One of their favorite games was chicken. Seeing how long they could wait out the tide. Well, the tide came in fast, and they tried to swim out. It was believed Jude lost his footing on one of the rocks.” The groove in her forehead deepens, and she shakes her head. “Wasn’t until Lucian was safely out that he watched his friend get swept out to sea. It took a number of years to get over the death of Jude. Even as he got older, he had vivid hallucinations of him. Rand would catch him down in the cave, sometimes, talking to himself.”