Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Gavin
When I leave the office, I’m trying not to overthink the conversation with Zoey. Something was definitely off with her. Or maybe I just misread? But she seemed upset. Almost … angry.
It stung when she said I didn’t know her at all.
She’s right in so many ways. I don’t know much about her personal life.
But I know that she runs her hands over her hair when she’s stressed.
I know she proofreads every email before hitting send.
I know she keeps a secret stash of chocolate in her desk drawer, sneaking pieces only when she thinks no one is looking.
Except I’m always looking.
I try to shake off thoughts of Zoey as I head toward the north side of Austin, letting the navigation system direct me toward Nancy’s house.
I helped her purchase the house years back, but I haven’t been out here since then.
At that point she had followed me along to three different businesses. I felt like she needed a reward.
Maybe it’s strange that I bought my assistant a house and that I still have a key.
But my relationship with Nancy is far more than a typical business one.
Her sister worked on our ranch for years.
My parents might be simple, salt-of-the-earth types, but they ran hundreds of thousands of acres.
Hiring a cook and house cleaner wasn’t the same as it would be if I did the same here in Austin.
Patty was a fixture in my household growing up, almost like family.
She made a lot of the meals but also ate with us.
She cleaned, but also kept me out of trouble when Mom was busy with my younger brothers or the ranch duties.
So, when I moved here and needed an assistant I could trust, Patty’s sister, Nancy, was the obvious choice. Not even a choice, really. A given.
Her house is a modest ranch on the north side of Austin. I passed a lot of families outside and signs in front yards for the high school football team even though it’s almost June. Football is king of all the seasons here.
This is the kind of life you missed out on , I couldn’t help but think to myself as I drove in, passing a house where a few children run through a sprinkler while moms drink and watch from folding chairs nearby.
I’d thought this would be my life with Eleanor.
We married when I was twenty-eight and she was twenty-two.
Just babies, really. I assumed I’d work to earn us this kind of life—the suburbs, a few kids, a minivan in the driveway.
A full life, loud and full of laughter. Not the quiet one I now lead, just me and … work.
Our dreams, which I think were really just my dreams, went sideways, and for a few years we tried really hard.
Or, I tried really hard. Eleanor … sometimes tried.
After several trial separations, we finally divorced seven years later so she could be with one of her lovers.
I wasn’t sure which one. He didn’t last long, so it didn’t matter if I remembered the names of the men she cheated on me with.
Why am I thinking about Eleanor? Oh, right. The suburban life I won’t ever have. There are perks of being single and wealthy. I don’t have many restrictions. My life is free and open.
And you’re completely lonely .
I ignore that voice, pulling into Nancy’s drive and unlocking the front door with the key I keep on my ring.
“Nancy?” I call, closing the front door behind me.
I hear a faint moan from deeper in the house. All the shades are drawn, and the house has a … smell. Kind of a mix of dust and something a little worse.
As I pass the kitchen, I have to cover my nose.
Clearly, the trash needs to be taken out.
Maybe something else too. A gray tabby cat appears, meowing with surprising volume and wrapping around my ankles, almost tripping me.
I am not a cat fan. I don’t want to kick them or anything, but I’d be fine never seeing them outside of funny YouTube videos.
The cat suddenly breaks off and darts through a doorway, hopping up onto a bed that has a Nancy-shaped lump in the middle, her gray hair just visible over the covers. There’s a smell here too, and I do my best not to show any reaction in my face as Nancy peels down the covers.
“Kevin? Is that you?”
Kevin ? I tilt my head, studying her face. Her cheeks are flushed still, and her eyes look glazed and glassy. “It's Gavin. I came to check on you. How are you?”
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she says, and I blink.
I may have a house key. Nancy might be like a grandmother to me, but she’s never called me sweetheart. And I’m for sure not Kevin.
“Come and give your aunty some sugar.” She pats one red cheek, as though waiting for a kiss.
Not happening. “Uh, sure. Just a second. Let me go …”
But her eyes have already drooped closed and she’s snoring lightly. I step closer to the bed as the cat takes up residence on her chest, tucking its paws underneath it and staring intently into her face.
I wonder how close Nancy was to being eaten by her own cat. Based on its narrow yellow eyes, I think I’ve gotten here just in time.
I place my hand on her forehead and she’s burning up. A few bottles of pain relievers are on the bedside table, along with crumpled tissues and a tube of lip balm.
A few minutes later, I’m bagging up the trash in the kitchen as I talk to Nancy’s sister, Patty, on the phone. “I think she needs a doctor. Or at least someone here with her. She thought I was Kevin?”
Patty sighs. “My brother's son. He passed from cancer a few years ago.”
“Wow. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“That’s okay, sweetie. I’ll be on my way. Do you think you could stay there until I can get there? If I leave now, it should take three hours.”
Three hours in a house that smells a few degrees from death with a hallucinating Nancy and a cat who wants to eat her? Sure. No problem. But Patty and Nancy are essentially family, so I stay.
I manage to extricate the possibly murderous cat to the kitchen by opening a can of cat food. I may have dry-heaved once or twice. With a glass of water and a cool cloth for her head, I return to Nancy’s room.
The afternoon sun shines low through the cracked blinds.
I can just barely see Nancy’s hair puffing out from under the blanket like some kind of animal pelt.
She hasn’t so much as taken a sip of water.
I didn’t want to make her take any medication, even as hot as she was, because I didn’t know how recently she’d had any, or if she’d be mentally clear enough to remember.
But I can almost feel the heat coming off her body when I pull the covers back. We need to get this fever down.
“Nancy,” I whisper, giving her shoulder a little shake.
“Mm?” Her eyes drift open a tiny crack, then she smacks her lips, and sits up so suddenly that I step back. “It’s five o’clock somewhere,” she says, shuffling around.
It’s not until she tosses a lacy, maroon bra at the side of my head that I realize what she was doing. I even caught the thing. On instinct.
And now I’m left holding a bra with two fingers as Nancy falls back asleep. Each of the cups could hold my whole head, and this is one fact I didn’t know and didn’t need to know.
Forget the painkillers. I’m out. Hopefully Nancy’s fever-addled brain won’t remember this moment.
I wish I could forget it.
With Nancy asleep, I spend the next three hours cleaning up. In the office, Nancy is pretty organized. I haven’t been here often, so I’m not sure if the current state is due to the fact that she hasn’t felt well even before today, or if she’s a lot messier than her sister
After I've scrubbed the dirty dishes, cleaned out the litter box (more dry-heaving), and picked up around the house a bit, I perch on the plastic-covered sofa and manage to find Sports Center on her television.
I doze off, waking when I hear the sound of the front door opening. Patty shuffles in, looking a bit more stooped than last time I saw her, but otherwise almost Nancy’s twin.
“How’s my boy?” she asks as I give her a hug.
I have to lean way down, but she smells familiar, and I remember a time when I hugged Patty with my head only reaching her waist.
“I’m doing well,” I say.
Patty pulls back and gives me a once-over. “You look good. For your age.” She chuckles, and I can only shake my head. “Is she in bed?”
“She is. I didn’t give her any pain medicine. She had a few bottles on the bedside table, but she wasn’t coherent enough to tell me what she’d already taken or when.”
“Thank you for checking on her. I’ll be fine. When are we going to see you again at the ranch?”
Patty no longer works there but always manages to show up for dinner or a visit when I come into town.
“I’ll be there this weekend,” I tell her. “I just spoke with Mom today.”
She smiles and pats my arm. “Well, then. You just might see me there. If Nancy’s feeling better, maybe I’ll drag her along. Now, get on home. You clearly need more beauty rest.”
When I arrive back home a few hours later, the house seems quieter than usual. It’s always quiet. Silent, really. Perched above Austin in West Lake Hills, there is little noise pollution. The city lights are in view, but it’s quiet. It should feel peaceful. I thought that’s what I wanted.
And yet I feel restless.
More and more lately, the silence has felt like a living, breathing thing. A presence in the house, accompanying me everywhere I go. I’ve started leaving the television on or letting my smart home play one of the stations I like.
I’ve started thinking about selling the place and moving somewhere I can see other people, hear sounds of people moving around. Proof of life.