Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Oaklee
My day has completely turned to shit.
Not the lunch with Allison, Charli, and Lizzie.
That was pretty great. In fact, I really hope we can do it again soon, because it was a lot of fun and the hour flew by in the blink of an eye.
Honestly, I didn’t even want to go back to work but didn’t really have a choice.
When you have bills to pay, especially after just moving to a new place, and a new job, you don’t really have the luxury of skipping an afternoon of work. Not without being reprimanded.
That’s why I had to stay put instead of traveling back home when my grandma called me.
Grandpa fell at home. Not only does he have a gash on the side of his head that required some stitches and a few staples, but he has a concussion too.
Apparently, when he fell, he hit the coffee table.
She had to call an ambulance because it was bleeding so badly and he was a little disoriented.
My grandparents are still agile, even as they hit their early seventies.
They’ve stayed active, and to think about him being rushed to the ER in an ambulance is difficult.
Especially since I’m not right up the road, so to speak, anymore.
Anderson Township is a few hours away, and while I could easily jump in the car after I get off work and drive back home, Grandma insists I don’t.
He’s already released and home resting.
But that doesn’t stop the worry and anxiety from taking over.
When I left Cincinnati, it was harder than I expected to leave the two people who were the most stable and consistent people in my life.
The problem is, every time the woman who birthed me would drop me off on their doorstep, I saw the hardship flash across their faces.
It wasn’t easy to raise their granddaughter, not when they both worked full time.
Every time she’d show up on their doorstep, me and a single bag of belongings in tow, it completely disrupted their lives. Even as a young girl, I saw it.
I saw their struggle.
Every time my mother would bring me back, unable to be the mom she promised to be, they’d do their best to pick up the pieces of my young broken heart.
Of course, the court system seems to believe a woman with many issues can change over and over again and kept putting me back in her care.
She’d get picked up, go to rehab, and then get clean for a while.
So I’d be sent back to her. The cycle repeated so often, it was sad. Disgusting, even.
When I was thirteen, she didn’t even have the decency to take me back to my grandparents before she took off.
She left me—alone—in our run-down apartment until the school called for a welfare check.
When the officers arrived, finding me there with no power, no water, and barely any food, my grandparents were finally granted a permanent guardianship until I was eighteen.
It probably saved my life, if I’m being honest, because staying with my mom would have eventually killed me, or turned me into something that reflected her own sad existence simply because I barely knew better.
My heart hurt all afternoon, even after I spoke with my grandma and she insisted I not come.
Realization was heavy as I thought about those two people being the only ones I’ve truly had in my corner most of my life.
The moment I could, I went off to nursing school, determined to make a life that’s my own, where I can take care of people who need it.
I never wanted to be a burden to anyone ever again, that’s for sure.
“Hey, you all right?” Allison asks as we prepare to close down the clinic for the day.
“Yeah,” I reply, flashing a quick smile.
“What’s the latest?” she asks, referring to my grandpa.
“He’s home and resting. Grandma told me not to worry about coming home. There’s nothing I can do, but part of me feels like I should, you know?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll call my grandma again when I leave here, just to see if they need anything.”
“I’m hoping the network gets back online soon, or tomorrow’s going to suck too,” Allison states, referring to the internet network the clinics and hospital use.
It went down about two o’clock this afternoon, and IT hasn’t been able to get it back up yet.
Everything basically came to a halt. We couldn’t discuss test results with patients or even order prescriptions.
It’s been a mess, and all I can hope is it works properly tomorrow.
“Big plans tonight?” I ask after we say goodnight to the office manager, Fiona, and head for the back exit of the clinic.
“Dinner with my parents,” she replies, making a face.
“I hope they can get through a meal without fighting, but I highly doubt it. The part I’m looking forward to the most is seeing my niece.
” Clara, her niece, is four and Allison dotes on her.
She spends as much time as she can with her, including dealing with her bickering parents. “You?”
I stop in the middle of the small lot and glance around. “Honestly? I’m thinking about grabbing some queso and chips and a bottle of wine and drinking the night away.”
She snorts a laugh. “I’d totally do that with you, if it weren’t for this dinner. It’s my brother-in-law’s birthday, so I can’t skip it.”
I wave off her comment. “Go enjoy your niece. I’ll probably be in bed by eight anyway, especially if I drink wine.”
Allison moves to her car and opens the driver’s door. “Don’t drunk call anyone.”
I bark out a laugh. “Doubtful.”
“Or, you could drunk text Cade. You still have his number, right?”
I told Allison about him giving me his number the night we met more than a month ago, but it hasn’t been discussed since. “I’m not drunk texting Cade.”
“Why not? You’re single now. You could totally text him.”
“Not happening,” I argue, opening the door to my Cherokee and preparing to climb inside.
“It could,” she sings, giggling as she climbs inside and shuts the door. Before I can slip inside my own vehicle, her driver’s window rolls down and she hollers, “Make sure you share all the details tomorrow.”
“There will be no details to share,” I yell, shutting my door and shaking my head.
I pull out of the small lot the employees use and head toward the small grocery store.
It’s not much, carrying the basics you’d need and prices higher than you’d find at a big box store, but it serves its purpose.
I’ve caught wind that many residents try to support the small mom and pop store as much as they can, while still taking advantage of the cheaper prices when needed.
After living here a short time, I’ve found myself shopping there a handful of times for a night or two of dinners or to get a few things to take to work for my lunch.
The grocery store is only a block off the main road and has its own parking lot. Since it’s just after five, the lot is fuller than usual, most likely thanks to other residents doing exactly what I’m doing—stopping on their way home from work.
I park in the second row and head for the front entrance. Once inside, I retrieve a basket to carry my purchases, knowing I won’t need the capacity of a cart. I really only need a handful of items, and I take off in search of those.
My first stop is the chip aisle. Usually, I wouldn’t mind making a homemade queso dip, but to be honest, after the long afternoon and heavy emotional baggage I’ve been carrying, I want something quick and easy.
So, jarred dip it is. I find what I’m looking for and grab a bag of tortilla chips to go with it.
But then an idea hits me, and I make my way to the meat section.
This is totally cheating, but if my goal tonight is a quick and easy meal, then this option will suffice.
I move to where they keep prepackaged, prepared meats and find what I’m looking for.
It’s a container of pull pork coated in Jack Daniels barbecue sauce.
If I had time to cook my own pulled pork, I would, but unfortunately, that’s not in the cards tonight.
So this will have to do.
I head toward the back of the store next, grabbing a small container of sour cream before walking to the fresh vegetables and finding two jalapenos that are perfectly ripe.
My stomach growls at the thought of the pulled pork nachos I’d be having for dinner, even after enjoying such a large, homemade lunch earlier at the diner.
Usually, I might have something small, like a chicken salad sandwich or an egg and cheese sandwich, but I’m about to engage in eating my feelings, and that requires a big plate of comfort.
Once I have everything I need, I make my way toward the last aisle near the register. Originally, I was going to grab a bottle of wine, but as I scour the selection of liquor, my eyes settle on a bottle of tequila and the strawberry mix sitting beside it.
“I’m more of a lime or peach man myself, but I guess I could settle for a strawberry margarita instead.”
“Salt or sugar?” I ask, turning to face Cade.
He makes a face of horror. “People ruin a margarita by rimming the glass with sugar?”
I nod in confirmation.
“That’s a travesty.”
“Agreed,” I reply.
He looks down at my basket. “Taco Tuesday?”
“Isn’t every night Taco Tuesday?” I ask. Mexican is my absolute favorite, and I’d eat some sort of Mexican entrée every night if I could.
Cade’s face shows surprise as his mouth gapes open. “Marry me.”
“What?” I ask with a bark of laughter.
“I’m in love with you,” he states, earning an eye roll.
“You’re nuts.”
“Surprisingly, you’re not the first person to tell me that,” he replies, offering a cheesy grin. “On a serious note, I take it it’s a nachos and tequila kinda night?”
“Yeah.” I turn my attention to the alcohol, noting the four different brands of tequila.