Chapter 10
10
Karen walked into work, her smile still in place. After fixing her coffee, she placed the cup on her desk and settled in her chair to look at her schedule now that she had reviewed the new patient files. A woman was coming home from a hospital and rehab stay after complications from her spinal fusion surgery. A man was being discharged from a long rehab after a stroke. And a teenage athlete was transitioning to home after suffering a severe neck injury during a game.
She pressed her lips together. And tomorrow night, I’ll have my first date with someone I’m really interested in. She had only gone out a few times since Jeffrey’s death. The first date rolled to the front of her mind. She’d met him through a grief group before moving to the Shore. Instantly, she knew the date was a mistake. She had wanted an adult dinner with someone she could talk to, and he was looking for a ready-made mother for his three children. She felt wife replacement was what he saw on the menu. A shudder ran through her. There were a few others, but she’d found no spark.
Since then, she’d moved to the Shore and was busy with work, the girls, and enjoying just being a mom. But now… the thought of tomorrow’s date with Mark?—
“Good morning!”
Her head jerked up before she laughed as Selma walked in.
“Lordy, girl, you were deep in thought.”
Karen shook her head. “I didn’t realize how much I had zoned out.”
“I would ask if everything was okay, but you had a smile on your face.”
Unable to stop her smile from widening, she looked at Selma, who gasped.
“Are you going out on a date? ’Cause I can only think of one thing that would put that kind of smile on your face besides your girls!”
Nodding, she replied, “Yes, I am. Mark Robbins, one of the county detectives, has asked me out.”
She heard a noise in the lobby of someone coming in and quickly begged, “Please don’t say anything to anyone.” Seeing Selma’s raised eyebrows, she hurried to explain. “It’s a first date, and it could end in disaster. I’d rather other people not know. If it eventually leads to more dates, it’s fine to become public, but something is so unnervingly vulnerable and personal about a first date.”
“Absolutely, Karen,” Selma whispered, leaning forward as she emphatically nodded. “I understand.”
Soon, the staff was in their weekly meeting. After reviewing the ongoing, upcoming, and recently discharged patients, she moved the meeting to budget items.
“I’ll be glad if we get a raise soon, and it doesn’t have to be much ’cause by the time taxes and all the other things get taken out, it leaves me with very little,” Selma claimed. “My son is now twenty-one years old, and I swear that boy can’t hold down a job. He’s all about what’s easy and what he can get for nothing. He’s always asking about some of the richer people around here, wondering what they do to make money, and then he claims he can make money just sitting in front of his computer all day. He’ll be the death of me!”
Rick groaned. “My twin boys graduate and had better get scholarships ’cause I don’t have the money to pay for them to go full-time at a big college. My wife and I sat them down the other day and explained that they would need to start at the community college and live at home. One seemed okay with that, but the other said he’d work to make up for the cost difference. How he thinks bagging at the Food King will bring in enough money, I don’t know.”
“At least he has a work ethic!” Selma said. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do with James!” She shook her head, her dark curls sprinkled with gray bouncing with the movement. “He’s always talking big. Got himself a girlfriend now and gave her a ring. A big, ole ruby ring… or at least he claims it’s a ruby. Says he got it cheap at a pawn shop. But he spent money on it he shouldn’t have.”
“I don’t know, Rick,” Patrick said. “I’ve still got student loans from PT school that I’m paying off. My wife and I have let her brother rent out the small room over the garage to bring in a little more money and make it easier for him to pay his bills.”
Karen knew her girls had a few more years before college costs would loom, but she’d held on and invested much of the money from Jeffrey’s life insurance policy just for those costs. She couldn’t imagine trying to pay for their higher education with just her salary. Sharon and Miles had been quiet, but Karen’s gaze locked in on the large gemstone ring Sharon wore on her right hand. She caught Miles looking down at it, too, and then a smile crossed his lips as he and Sharon smiled at each other as though sharing a secret. She wondered if Miles had given Sharon the dinner ring and how he’d managed to buy it.
Realizing Selma and Rick seemed to be waiting for her to conclude the meeting, she jumped back on task, and soon, everyone headed off for their appointed home visits.
At the first home on her schedule, she rang the doorbell and was greeted by a middle-aged woman who introduced herself as the daughter. “Hi, come on in. I’m Jennifer. If you follow me, I’ll take you to Mom.”
They entered the family room, where Jennifer said, “Mom, this is Karen Drummond, the home nurse.”
Karen greeted the elderly woman sitting in a chair with a walker nearby. “Mrs. Schultz, it’s nice to meet you.”
Mrs. Schultz was dressed in comfortable fleece pants and a matching zip-up sweater. Black house slippers covered her feet. Her daughter sat nearby, her gaze lovingly on her mom.
“Ni… me… you… too.”
“I have looked over the paperwork from your hospital stay and rehab after you suffered the stroke and have read the doctor’s orders. My job today is to assess your current needs and your home to ensure it is safe and meets your special requirements. I will come weekly for six weeks, or if we conclude that your regular doctor follows you and you don’t need a nurse to check on you weekly, that is fine. And if, after six weeks, you need more, we can reassess at that time. Does that sound like what you hoped for?”
Mrs. Schultz nodded, and her daughter asked, “And what about the physical and speech therapy?”
“That’s what we’ll go over today.”
She reviewed the medication list with Jennifer and Mrs. Schultz, then assessed the home for safety and the necessary items. After her medical examination, they discussed the other therapies. “We have three therapists coming who will have their own assessments. Patrick Bellows is our home physical therapist. Nicole Havand is the speech therapist, and Sharon Bundy is the occupational therapist. They will have copies of the rehab reports and recommendations.”
After fifteen more minutes of answering Jennifer’s questions, she said, “And so you know, we also have a counselor. If you feel at any time that you would like his services, all you have to do is ask.”
As she said goodbye, Jennifer walked Karen to the door. Turning, Karen asked, “How are you doing?”
Jennifer pressed her lips together as her gaze shot toward the family room at the back of the house. She sighed, then smiled at Karen. “Honestly, my world has turned upside down. Thank God I have a flexible job, and my boss has been very supportive. I can work from home and hold video conference meetings when needed. Mom’s been in great health, so for her to have a stroke was such a shock. My dad passed away years ago from a brain tumor when I was in college.” She looked around at the large house. “Mom loved this house and wanted to stay. I live and work in Virginia Beach. When she was in the hospital and rehab there, it was easy to visit, but I knew when she was released to come back here, I would need to stay for a while.”
“Being a caregiver is hard. Make sure you schedule time for yourself. You mentioned that your mom has friends, a women’s group from her church, and neighbors. Let others help at times when you need a break.”
Jennifer smiled, gratitude evident as her expression relaxed. “Thank you. I’m grateful I’m so close to Mom, but you’re right. This has been a huge life change for us both.”
“The three therapists will contact you tomorrow to schedule their first visits, and I’ll see you next week.”
With goodbyes said, Karen walked to her vehicle. The rest of the day followed much the same routine—new patients to assess and current ones to check on.
Her final stop was at Roscoe’s home. “Hey!” she called out when he told her to enter. She walked inside and grinned at Marty and Zannie, sitting at his small table with cereal bowls in front of them.
“My goodness! Is there a party that you forgot to invite me to?” she joked, smiling as she greeted each child and then walked over to Roscoe, who was sitting in his recliner.
“I have some visitors.” Roscoe smiled widely as he winked at her, then looked at the kids.
“We got Lucky Charms!” Zannie said, trying to speak, chew, and swallow simultaneously.
“Don’t choke, sweetheart,” Karen warned gently.
Zannie giggled. “Sweetheart. I like that! Nobody’s called me that before.”
A pain shot through Karen’s stomach at the little girl's declaration. She looked toward Roscoe, seeing his tense jaw. Looking back at the children, she said, “Well, you are sweethearts—both of you!”
More giggles ensued, and she turned her attention back to Roscoe.
“Made sure my pill bottles are in the cabinet since the kids have started coming inside. Didn’t want them on the counter.”
“Good idea,” she agreed. Once she’d checked his medication, blood pressure, and temperature and looked at his legs and feet for swelling, she stood and moved past the kids to make sure his home still met his needs. Seeing everything in order, she returned to the living/eating area.
“Looks like you’ve got everything you need, Roscoe.”
“I’m doing okay, Ms. Karen.” He leaned closer as the kids slurped the milk from their bowls. “Can’t say the same about them kids.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure,” Roscoe said. “For the past couple of days, the kids have knocked on my door when they got off the school bus. They said their mama was asleep, and they couldn’t get in, and her worthless boyfriend wasn’t around. The first day, it was raining cats and dogs, and I had the kids come in real quick so they wouldn’t get any wetter than they already were. When they heard that big truck outside, they ran over to their place. The next day, it wasn’t raining, but the kids came back over here. I know you’d given them some snacks before, and I asked one of the church ladies if they would bring a few things for me to have. Got some cereal and cookies. I already had some crackers and still have some cheese. So, for the past several days, as soon as the kids get off the bus, they come straight here.”
“Their mom doesn’t miss them? Or wonder where they are when they get off the bus?”
“I used to think she was at work, but the kids told me sometimes she isn’t there when they get home, or sometimes she’s sleeping.”
“Do you think she’s sick?”
Roscoe snorted, then whispered, “My guess is she’s drunk.”
“I’m gonna chat with the kids for a few minutes and see if they need anything.”
“Go ahead, Ms. Karen. I was hoping you’d talk to them some more.”
She walked over, and since there wasn’t another chair at the small table, she squatted, placing her forearms on the table. “Was that cereal good?”
“I love it!” Zannie said. “It’s got crunchy parts, and then it has these little sweet things that have lots of shapes. There is a star, a rainbow, and?—”
“She’s probably had Lucky Charms before,” Marty said softly. Karen’s intuition that Marty looked out for his sister was confirmed. Even the way he spoke to Zannie, not telling his sister to hush but assuming that Karen wouldn’t be interested in the different shapes of their cereal, he’d gently spoken up.
She smiled at him, glad when his lips curved. Turning her smile toward Zannie, she said, “Marty’s right. I have had Lucky Charms before, but it’s been a long time.” She smiled and then plunged ahead. “I hear you guys have been visiting Mr. Roscoe after school this week.”
Zannie nodded. “He’s nice. He lets us come inside and has snacks for us.”
“Beats staying out in the rain.” Marty’s voice was less animated, and if Karen wasn’t mistaken, the little boy was filled with resentment.
Prying carefully, she asked, “Is your mom not at home when you get off the bus anymore?”
“Her work has changed,” Marty explained. “She now goes to work at night, and then she likes to sleep late. She gets up about when Alan gets home, and he’s usually mad because she hasn’t fixed anything for him to eat.”
“They yell at each other,” Zannie said, her bottom lip quivering. “My teacher says we shouldn’t yell at other people.”
“I agree with your teacher,” Karen said. “But I know that sometimes families get upset with one another.”
“Alan isn’t our family,” Marty said, his words brittle.
“Do you ever see him get physical? Like pushing or hitting or anything like that?” Karen asked softly, keeping her gaze on Marty. She had a feeling he would protect his sister, and she wanted to see his reaction.
His brow furrowed. “No, not really. Sometimes, when mom isn’t doing anything that Alan wants, and he’s been drinking, he pushes her a little bit, but that’s all.”
“Oh, okay. Good.” She smiled, hoping her eyes portrayed concern and not anger. “And has he ever done anything to you or your sister?”
Marty shook his head, his voice low and matter-of-fact. "No, he just yells. We try to stay out of his way."
Zannie chimed in with a brighter tone, her innocent smile tugging at Karen's heart. "That's why it's so nice that Mr. Roscoe lets us come over. Marty does his homework when nobody’s yelling, and Mr. Roscoe gives us a snack." She scrunched her nose in that adorable way children do. "When we get home, we mostly just stay in our room."
Her heart was heavy, but she kept her voice gentle. “Do you feel safe at home, sweetheart?” she asked softly, trying to read beyond their words.
Both children nodded, but Zannie leaned in closer, her voice a whisper that broke Karen’s heart. "I don’t like it when they yell. But Mom is gone at night, and Alan just watches TV and sleeps." She gave a slight shrug, then added, barely above a whisper, "I wish Mom called me sweetheart like you do."
Karen had to swallow hard, fighting back the gasp that threatened to escape. Instead, she forced a small, reassuring smile. There was no immediate sign of physical harm—just two kids who looked a little too thin, their clothes rumpled, and their hair in need of a wash. It was always tricky deciding when to make a CPS referral. Too many children were raised in homes that weren’t ideal, where a parent could benefit from counseling or parenting classes, but not every case required intervention.
“Well, I think you’re an absolute sweetheart,” she said, her voice tender as she smiled at both children. Their faces lit up with matching grins, and Karen felt a brief flicker of warmth in the pit of her stomach. Standing, she added, “Keep my phone number close, okay? And make sure you check in on Mr. Roscoe often. He can always call me if he needs to let me know how you’re doing.”
Marty met her gaze with an intensity that belied his young age, and Karen felt his careful assessment. After a moment, his lips curved into a small smile, and he nodded. Zannie, always the more expressive, was already nodding enthusiastically.
Walking back to Roscoe, Karen leaned in and whispered, "Don’t hesitate to call me if you think there’s ever any trouble. Anything at all."
“I won’t, Ms. Karen,” Roscoe replied, his voice firmer than it had been in weeks. “I’ll keep an eye on them.”
At that moment, Karen noticed a quiet strength in Roscoe that had been missing since his health had declined. It made her wonder if the responsibility of watching over the children gave him a renewed sense of purpose, even if the reason for it weighed heavily on his heart. She gave his hand a gentle pat, exchanged goodbyes, and made her way to her vehicle.
As Karen drove away, she glanced back at the kids’ trailer, her stomach twisting with unease. The yard was empty, the trailer quiet, but the nagging feeling of dread lingered, clawing at her gut long after the trailer disappeared in her rearview mirror.