Chapter 3
Mercury – an old man who is the reason the term grumpy old man was invented
Mercy
“What in tarnation are you doing?”
I jump at Mercury’s booming voice and whirl around.
“What do you think I’m doing?” I motion to the sheets on the floor.
“Looks like you’re getting rid of my curtains.”
“Those are not curtains. Curtains are not attached to the window with masking tape.”
“It keeps the sunshine out just fine.”
My nose wrinkles. “Why do you want to keep the sunshine out? I practically need a flashlight to make it to the bathroom in the middle of the day with the hallway light on as it is.”
Despite accusing me of wanting to put him in a nursing home, Uncle Mercury said I could stay with him. I jumped at the chance. Staying here gives me time to figure out my next step. Not to mention my uncle should not be left to his own devices.
“Someone’s prone to exaggeration,” he mutters.
“Come on. It’s nice with the sunshine pouring in. You can sit in your chair and feel it on your face.”
“I don’t want to feel sunshine on my face.”
I bite my tongue before I lash out in frustration. If you look up crotchety old man in the dictionary, you’ll find a picture of my great uncle. I can’t do anything right. His coffee’s too hot, his soup is too cold. The list goes on and on.
I’m used to my family not approving of anything I do. But Mom normally grumbles once and then checks out. Of course, she checks out with a bottle of vodka so her behavior isn’t exactly good either.
“We’re going to be late,” Mercury announces.
“Late for what? I’m not taking you to the bar again. Trick me once, shame on you. Trick me twice, I’m an idiot.”
“Hospital.”
“Hospital? What’s wrong? Do I need to phone an ambulance? Is there a hospital in Winter Falls? I don’t think we can make it far with a golf cart.”
Yes, golf cart. Since Winter Falls is anti-cars, the preferred method of transportation is a golf cart. I’m not sure how long I can stay in a town that hates cars as much as I love them.
“Calm down, woman. We’ll use my car.”
“You have a car? I thought no one in Winter Falls was allowed to own a car.”
He grins. “I am.”
I wipe the dust on my pants off on my jeans. “I’ll get changed.”
“No time.”
“Can I at least go to the bathroom before we leave?”
“Make it quick.” He doesn’t wait before starting for the front door.
I rush to the bathroom. When I see myself in the mirror, I squeak. My hair is a mess of curls and there are streaks of dirt on my forehead. I braid my hair before washing my face.
I hurry out of the room to discover the front door open. I grab my phone and scurry after Mercury.
When I step on the porch, I don’t see him. He better have not left without me. He shouldn’t be running around by himself.
I hear the roar of an engine and excitement fills me. This isn’t some golf cart. Nope. The porch vibrates with the vibrations of the V8 engine. What kind of car is Uncle Mercury hiding? And when can I drive it?
A black Dodge Charger drives around the corner. No way. No way does Uncle Mercury own this car. He’s supposed to be a hippie who hates anything bad for the environment.
“You getting in or are you staring at me all day?” He shouts.
I snag my gaze from the hood to the driver’s window. “I wasn’t staring at you.”
I run around the car and jump in the passenger’s seat. “Where have you been hiding this beauty?”
He grunts. “Not hiding it. It was in the garage.”
He shifts into third gear and we lurch forward. “Damn leg.”
“What year is this beauty?” I ask instead of reminding him to switch from first to second before shifting into third gear.
“You know stuff about cars?”
“I’m a mechanic.”
He glances over at me with his mouth gaping open. The car swerves and I grab the steering wheel. “Road.”
He returns his attention to the road in front of us but can’t help peeking over at me every few seconds.
“What?” I finally ask.
“I didn’t expect Lyra’s granddaughter to be a mechanic.”
I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him. “I thought hippies were all about equality. A woman can be a mechanic just as easily as a man. In fact, my hands are smaller and can reach places asshole men can’t reach.”
“Asshole men?”
Crap. I slipped up. I’m not telling Mercury about my ex. The asswipe doesn’t deserve a place in my mind. I shove thoughts of him and how he stole everything from me away. It’s over. No use crying over spilled milk.
“Where is this hospital?”
He frowns but allows me to change the topic. “White Bridge.”
“How far is White Bridge?”
“Not far.”
Trust me. White Bridge feels pretty far when your great uncle is driving and keeps forgetting to press the clutch down when he shifts. I’m surprised the car didn’t stall more than once.
While Mercury maneuvers the car into a parking spot, I try to come up with a way to steal his keys. I do not want to drive back to Winter Falls with him grinding the gears. My mechanic’s heart is bleeding for the poor transmission.
We arrive at the reception area and I check Mercury in before taking a seat next to him to wait for the doctor.
It isn’t long before a woman steps into the area and calls Mercury’s name. When I stand to go with him, he glowers at me. “I don’t need you to come with me.”
“She can join us,” the woman says. I like her already.
“I’m Mercy,” I say once we enter an exam room.
“I’m Dr. Vander,” she says as we shake hands.
“Is this a meet and greet or a doctor’s office?” Mercury grumbles and I roll my eyes.
“Mr. Crotchety has arrived,” I mumble.
Dr. Vander ducks her chin but not before I see her smile. She clears her throat. “Why don’t you hop up on the exam table?”
“Hop? How do you expect me to hop? I haven’t hopped anywhere in over a decade.” He waves his cane at her.
I rush to him. “I’ll help.”
Once he’s settled, I retreat to the other side of the room where I can peer outside the window and avoid seeing any of my great uncle naked. I shiver. I can handle a grumpy old man. Naked old man, on the other hand? No thanks.
“You can turn around now,” Dr. Vander says as she helps Mercury to sit in a chair across from her desk a few minutes later.
I sit next to him. The doctor types on her computer while we wait. My leg bounces with impatience. What’s wrong with my uncle? Should I be pushing more for him to be put in a nursing home?
“Now, Mr. Mercury,” she begins.
“Mercury. No mister necessary.”
“Mercury,” she starts again. “as we’ve discussed in the past, you shouldn’t be living on your own anymore.”
“I’m not. My niece is living with me.”
I cringe. Does he expect me to live with him forever?
“Your niece is not a health care professional who’s available round-the-clock.” Dr. Vander cringes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t ask if you’re a health care professional.”
I wave away her apology. “I’m the furthest thing from a nurse. Unless you count nursing a car back to health.”
She doesn’t laugh at my joke. Tough crowd.
“I don’t need a babysitter with me all damn day,” Mercury declares.
“What if you fall?” Dr. Vander challenges. “Your knee and hip aren’t getting any better.”
“You’re the doctor. You’re supposed to make them better.”
She sighs. “You don’t need to be ashamed of needing a bit of help at your age.”
“You’re not talking about a bit of help. You want me in one of those old people’s homes.” Mercury glares at me. “You’re as bad as her.”
My face warms at the accuracy of the accusation. I should have known better than to listen to Mom. I should have known there was some catch. Go meet your uncle and get him settled in a nursing home. It’ll be easy. Easy my ass.
“Do you remember the bronchitis you contracted last year?” Mercury grunts. “This time you might not be as lucky.”
Dr. Vander stands. “Think about it.”
Mercury groans as he stands. I hurry to help him but he bats me away. “I’m not a feeble old man.”
“Just old then,” I mutter.
We make our way out of the office and downstairs to the parking lot. I can tell by the way Mercury’s leaning on his cane, he’s tired. Considering his bad knee and hip, he shouldn’t be driving at all, let alone a manual transmission.
“Can I drive back?”
He scowls at me.
“Come on,” I beg. “Your car is a mechanic’s wet dream.”
“Fine,” he huffs and hands me the keys. “But you’re not putting me in a home.”
I snatch the keys from him before he can change his mind. “Dr. Vander thinks it’s a good idea.”
“Dr. Vander is a quack.”
“Those certificates on her walls seemed real enough.”
He snorts.
“You can’t stop an argument because you’re losing.”
“Can too.”
I help him to settle in the passenger seat before rushing around to the driver’s side. I inhale a deep breath to calm myself before opening the door. This isn’t my car. And I probably shouldn’t squeal my tires in a hospital parking lot. I hate the word should.
“What’s the big deal about living in a nursing home anyway?” I ask once we’re on the road and I’ve managed to stop myself from blowing out of town. It was a close call. My foot is still tapping the gas pedal in anticipation.
“Do you want to live in a nursing home?”
I wag a finger at him. “Nuh-huh. You can’t answer a question with a question. It’s against the rules.”
“Who says?”
“I do.”
“You’re gonna run roughshod over my life, aren’t you?”
I grin. “Just until you’re in a nursing home.”
“I’m about as likely to go in a nursing home as you are to have a boyfriend.”
I gasp. “I’ve had boyfriends.” Too many if I’m being honest with myself. Something I prefer not to do. “I can find another one.”
“Sure you can.”
“I can! But I don’t want to.”
“Don’t want to or can’t?”
I squeeze the steering wheel in an effort to keep my frustration under control. “Uncle Mercury, don’t start with me.”
“I’m not starting anything. All I’m saying is I’m not going into a nursing home until you have a boyfriend.”
Crap. My little detour to Winter Falls has apparently been extended indefinitely.