6. Peyton
CHAPTER 6
peyton
T he next Monday, the day before I had to go to court, was the day from Hades. Maybe it was payback for breaking Ford’s heart. I wasn’t sure. But the gorgeous spring blossoms that were beginning to bloom gave me a false sense of security that everything would work itself out.
Within five minutes of leaving home, I wished I hadn’t.
“You sold the house?” I yelped as soon as my mom answered.
“Good morning!” she sang, but she wasn’t talking to me. “Good morning! Good morning!” Music blared in the background and I rolled my eyes. It was probably the only time in human history anyone had ever been annoyed by the “Let the Magic Begin” song they played at Magic Kingdom to greet a new day.
“Yes, baby. Sorry, it happened so quickly we didn’t get a chance to tell you. Good morning!” I could see her in my mind, wearing her costume and wig as she waved enthusiastically at passersby.
“So you’re not coming back? Ever?”
“Good morning! Oh, I love your Loungefly backpack. I have that one.” Along with two hundred and forty-two others. “Isn’t it adorable?” Without taking a breath, she said, “No, honey. We’re simply too happy here. Let me show you.”
A picture of my parents, in front of Cinderella’s Castle, appeared on my phone. They were wearing Mickey Ears and grinning.
I rolled my eyes again. “So, you don’t care that you’re missing out on Cash growing up?”
“ Hon-ey.” S he sounded exasperated. “He’s thirteen. He doesn’t care if we’re around. You know how teenagers are.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” I muttered. It wasn’t true. Cash expressed how much he missed them at least once a week.
“Good morning! Oh, that’s the prettiest Rapunzel dress. Are you going to the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique today? You are? Have a wonderful day! What was that?”
It took a second for me to realize the last line was directed at me. “You know, Mom, you and Dad could’ve just, I dunno, decided to stop fighting. That would’ve been a decent solution.”
“Baby, can’t you be happy for us? We are at one hundred and eighty-three days without an argument. I think we’re finally at a healthy place in our marriage.”
“I am, Mom. I just miss you both.”
“You can come visit us anytime!” she said with forced gusto. When I said nothing, she sighed. “Be glad you’re rid of us. You don’t have to parent us anymore.”
It was intended to sting—and it did. But not in the way she thought.
My parents didn’t have a mature bone in their bodies, as evidenced by their current life situation. No one walking down Main Street would ever guess that the man in the red and white striped shirt selling ice cream was a retired postal worker with a massive gambling addiction. Or that his wife, who was currently living her ultimate dream by reprising the coveted role of The Fairy Godmother, was a retired high school drama teacher and a closet hoarder who was currently one hundred thousand dollars behind on her credit card payments. One hundred thousand dollars.
It was all about having things and looking perfect, twenty-four-seven. Even if those things were way out of their price range. Sometimes Ford said he didn’t know how these two had made me, The Budget Queen. But I wasn’t a die-hard bargain-shopper for fun. It was a complete necessity.
“Tell Cash we love him. Oh, and we sent him a little something. It’s the newest Woody doll, but let it be a surprise.”
“He outgrew Toy Story five years ago.”
“Oh, fiddlesticks. No one outgrows Toy Story .”
“No one says fiddlesticks.”
“Good morning! Good morning! Love you, honey. Have a magical day!” She hung up.
I pursed my lips, suddenly angry at Walt Disney himself. May he rest in peace. Then I pressed my gas pedal down harder and headed to my job at Colonial Halls nursing home, swallowing the bitter pill that I was now completely on my own, for good.
After passing out morning meds, I popped my head into Agnes Spencer's room. At one hundred and two, she proudly wore the crown as the oldest resident of the nursing home. “Doing all right this morning?”
“Bright as a button.” She grinned.
“Wonderful.” I smiled. “Just wanted to make sure you’d taken your morning meds.” She nodded. “Headed to check on Miss Bailey. Any messages you want me to pass along?” Miss Spencer and Miss Bailey were frenemies if I’d ever seen them. Each too competitive for their own good. I’d broken up more than one tense argument over their Scrabble games.
“Tell Martha I’m ready to whoop her trash in Canasta this evening.” Her southern accent was scratchy and thin.
“Did your great-grandkids visit again? Are you trying out their slang?”
She winked one paper-thin eyelid. “You know it.”
“Good for you.” I laughed. “I’ll let her know.”
As I stepped back into the hall, tugging the med cart behind me, I checked my phone for a text from Ford. But he’d still left me on read. I couldn’t blame him after the message I’d sent in the middle of the night.
Me: Sorry, Ford. I think it’s for the best. You’ll get over this as soon as you let go of the idea. Let me know how Lula is doing in the morning, okay?
I sighed and dropped the phone into my pocket. I was walking past the nurses' station when Mr. Gregory hit his call light. The small map on our electronic board showed his room blinking red. Room 216—right across from Miss Bailey’s room.
“I've got it,” I called to Nancy, the CNA who'd started in that direction.
The nurses’ station was quiet for seven thirty a.m. Only the hum of the ancient printer spitting out the day's updated care plans broke the silence.
Mr. Gregory, our newest resident, was sitting up in bed when I walked in. His silver hair was neatly combed as if he were going on a hot date.
"Nurse Peyton," he said, waving me over. "I need to report something serious."
I approached his bed, searching him for any signs of distress. "What's wrong, Mr. Gregory?” I patted him on the knee.
He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "That nurse last night—the blonde one. She's been stealing medications." His eyes darted toward the hallway. "I saw her pocket some pills from that cart. Little blue ones." He tapped his temple with one finger. "I used to be a pharmacist, you know. Forty years.” I knew. We all did. It’s all he’d talked about in the forty-eight hours that he’d been with us. He made his career sound as exciting as if he were an undercover spy.
My stomach dropped. Stealing narcotics was serious. "When did you see this happen?”
"During night med pass. She thought I was sleeping." He grabbed my arm. "You have to do something.”
I flipped through his chart. I knew almost nothing about this man. Then, I scanned, looking for keywords like dementia and Alzheimers. All I saw was “smart as a whip” and “keeps everyone on their toes.”
I hurried back to the nurses' station, where Leonora was finishing her shift count with Amy, the other night nurse. They were in the medication room—a small, locked space behind the nurses' station where we kept the narcotic boxes and controlled substance records.
"Leonora?" My voice shook slightly. "Can I talk to you? It's important."
She looked up from the count sheet, her tired eyes narrowing at my expression. "What's wrong?"
I closed the medication room door behind me. “Mr. Gregory reported seeing Sarah taking pills from the med cart. He thinks they're narcotics. Says she was pocketing them during the night shift."
Leonora put down her pen. "Are you sure?"
"He's certain. Said he watched her do it."
"Amy, call Jilly," Leonora ordered, reaching for the keys to the cabinet where we stored the narcotics. "We need an immediate count of all controlled substances." She turned to me. "Where's Sarah?"
"Break room, I think. She just started her count with day shift."
The next hour was a blur of activity. Jilly, our Director of Nursing, arrived in her gym clothes. I knew for a fact that she’d been at Lemon’s Circuit Barre class. Right now, I wished I was.
State regulations required us to notify the pharmacy, the medical director, and the Virginia Board of Nursing of suspected narcotics theft. The administration team began filtering in, looking grim.
"All nurses present for shift change; please stay," our administrator announced over the intercom. "We need to conduct an immediate audit.”
“Sarah?” Jilly said. “Can you wait for me in the conference room?”
Sarah scowled, looking confused. I felt bad for what was about to happen. Sarah was a decent nurse. A little scatterbrained—even more than me—but good enough. I prayed things could be solved quietly, without too much hoopla.
But by nine a.m., the parking lot looked like a law enforcement convention. Two police cruisers, Jilly’s hastily parked SUV, and various administrative vehicles crowded the small staff lot. Inside, the usual morning routine had ground to a halt as every nurse participated in a facility-wide medication audit.
"Channel Five is here," Nancy whispered, peeking through the blinds. "Somebody must have tipped them off."
Our administrator. Devin Garrett hurried past, phone pressed to his ear. "Yes, sir, we're following all protocols for suspected narcotic theft... No, we haven't confirmed anything yet... Yes, the police are already here…”
That's when we heard Sarah burst into tears in the medication room. “They're Tic Tacs!” She sobbed. “Just Tic Tacs! I'm trying to quit smoking. I’ve been sucking on them all week during my shifts!”
Crap. My blood ran chill. She was trying to quit. We’d all been encouraging her. I hadn’t known about the Tic Tacs, though. It hadn’t even occurred to me as a possibility.
Leonora and Ann backed away from me like they didn’t want to catch whatever virus I had. Wow. Thanks guys.
A few minutes later, Jilly emerged from the medication room, looking like she'd aged ten years in the last hour. “All narcotics are accounted for,” she announced. She gave me a pointed look. ”Every. Single. One.” Jilly was my friend. We worked out together a couple of times a week. She’d hired me. “He’s done this before. Three times in the last year. It’s right there in his chart.” She looked gutted. Which meant I was going to get flogged for this. “The chart you should have checked before escalating his claim.”
“I did check it. I must’ve missed it.”
The room felt crowded with the DON, the medical director, and the head of risk management all staring at me.
My head tilted. “But that means everyone else missed it too.”
Leonora and Jilly looked at the floor. They knew. I was being thrown under the bus. To save Colonial Halls from looking completely incompetent, I would take the blame entirely.
Fine. I’d take the whipping. It was the theme of my life.
“Do you understand the seriousness of what happened here today?” Administrator Garrett asked like I was the only one who’d messed up. “We've had to report this to multiple regulatory agencies.” His jaw clamped. “We had news crews, Peyton. News crews . We look like a joke.”
Sarah came out next, tear-stricken and betrayed.
I caught her eye, hands trembling at my side. “I’m so sorry.”
She choked on a sob and hurried down the hall.
“You know we pride ourselves on making smart decisions,” Administrator Garrett said. “Not jumping to conclusions. This isn’t Grey’s Anatomy. This is serious .”
My heart galloped in my chest and I could barely push the words “Yes, sir,” through my vocal cords.
“I’m sorry, Peyton,” he said. “But you’re done here at Colonial Halls. Effective immediately.”
My gaze skittered to Jilly. I needed this job. I had a boy to raise. Jilly stood stone still, cheeks flushed, eyes on the ground.
“But sir—” I started.
“No.” His hand made a slicing motion through the air. “I have to go talk to the news crew now,” he said through gritted teeth.
The other nurses, people who I’d thought were my friends, turned one by one, leaving me there alone with Jilly.
“I’ll give you a glowing reference,” she said in a hush as if that somehow made up for the fact that I was now jobless. If I could’ve moved past the fact that I’d have to work with Lemon’s ex, Billy, I might’ve applied at the family practice here in town. But I knew they weren’t hiring. So, not only was I now unemployed, but I would be spending even more time away from my boy by commuting to Honeyville, at the very least.
I could fight this. Take Colonial Halls to court. I wasn’t the only person who’d messed up here. But that could take years and thousands of dollars I didn’t have.
I placed my badge on Jilly’s desk, my hands shaking. My mind raced to my upcoming custody hearing. How would I explain this to the judge?
From down the hall, I could hear Mr. Gregory chatting happily with his breakfast aide. “Most excitement I’ve had in ages! Did you see all the police cars? Just like on TV!”
I did the walk of shame down the stupid-long hall, past twenty rooms of residents I’d fallen in love with over the years. Then I stepped through the sliding glass doors and out into the warm April air. As I walked to my car, a text from Braxton lit up my phone.
Worst Plot Line Ever: Why is Channel 5 running a story about a drug investigation at Colonial Halls?
Just great. It would only be a matter of minutes before he knew I’d been fired. More ammo to use against me in court.
I slumped against my steering wheel. Through my windshield, I could see Mr. Gregory in his window, waving cheerfully.
Apparently, a retired pharmacist with an overactive imagination and a nurse with a Tic Tac habit was all it took to destroy my career.
And for me to possibly lose my boy.
“Oh, honey,” Lemon said, walking up to me after barre class that evening.
“You heard?” I said through the knot in my throat.
“Well, if your red eyes didn’t give it away, the gossip column article disguised as a text that Billy sent me earlier surely did.”
“Viper,” I hissed.
She snorted. “Haven’t talked to that man in years, but he blew up my phone, letting me know how my friend had screwed up.” Her head bobbed. “Not screwed up. Got screwed.” She hooked an arm around my back, guiding my head to her shoulder.
I thought I’d cried all the tears I could today, but Lemon’s touch was enough to cause a deluge. “No. I screwed up,” I said in a strangled tone. “What am I going to do? I can’t show up to court with no job.” Yes, I had my job here at Downward but it hardly paid anything. This side of Lemon and Silas’s gym covered the utilities and instructor’s paychecks, but that was it. Lemon only kept the Downward half open as a labor of love. It was the Upward Dog side—the full gym taking up the other half of the building—that brought in the real money. “How am I even paying my lawyer?”
“Llew won’t care about the money.” She stroked my hair, letting me cry. “Oh, Peyt, why are you doing this to yourself? Just marry Ford.”
“No.” I stepped back, wiping my eyes. “I don’t want to marry him because my life is a pathetic mess. That’s no reason to get married.”
“No.” She pressed a hand to my cheek. “But being in love with your best friend is. And if said best friend happens to be rich, devastatingly handsome, and insanely in love with you, even better.”
“I’m not in love with my best friend,” I growled.
“Girl. Yes , you are.”
I glared at her. “I didn’t come here to get a lecture. I came for the endorphins, which you are currently smothering.”
Her big green eyes were trying to swallow me whole. “ Peyton . What are you so afraid of? He’s different now. He’s worked so hard to prove that to you, to us. To the entire world.”
“I know that, Lem. But I don’t want to be married to a celebrity. Why can’t everyone understand that?” I yanked the rubber band out of my ponytail. “And Cash doesn’t need his life upended again, okay? I just need to get him through high school and everything will be fine.” I hiccuped around a sob. “I can worry about my love life then.”
“Deep breaths.” She squeezed my shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. It will.”
“No!” I whisper-shouted. “You don’t get to say that to me. Your life is a fairy tale.”
She blinked like I’d slapped her. “I mean, sure, Silas is…everything.” Silas was her sun. The center of her solar system. The minute he’d walked back into her life, everything got infinitely better. If a Silas clone walked through the Downward doors right that minute and declared his undying love, I’d head straight to the courthouse. She rubbed my arms. “But you know better than anyone that my life hasn’t always been this way.”
“You’re only shoving me at Ford because he’s your brother-in-law, and you want him to be happy.”
She cocked her head, looking a touch hurt. “You know that’s not true. There was a long period when I told you not to go anywhere near him. And you know good and well that you were my friend before he was ever my brother-in-law. I wouldn’t encourage you to do something if I thought it was going to hurt you or Cash.”
I held my hands up and backed away. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t think about any of that right now. I can only focus on Cash. If I lose him, you might as well put me in my grave.” I brushed past her.
But she caught me by the arm, stopping me. “The truth will set you free,” she whispered.
I froze, blood rushing to my head.
“Tell him the truth,” she said louder. “That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it? That’s why you won’t marry him.”
My fists clenched.
“Peyton,” she said softly. “Is that why?”
My whole body was stiff, fear gripping me head to toe.
“No. That has nothing to do with it.” But that was the biggest lie I’d ever told. Actually, the second biggest. The truth that would set me free, according to my red-headed friend, was the first.
I yanked my arm loose and took a step for the door.
“Peyton,” she said louder, her tone frustrated. Many people found me frustrating. My ADHD, my inability to keep my thoughts inside my mouth… But never Lemon. Never, ever Lemon. “I love you, friend, but I don’t want to keep this secret anymore. It’s not right. He doesn’t deserve this. You promised you’d fix it.” She sounded determined, like she might fix it herself if I didn’t do it soon. “Silas is going to be so hurt when he finds out. And Jenny. All of them, possibly.”
I whirled, my eyes huge, panic seizing my lungs. “I know. And I will. But I’m going to court tomorrow .” She knew about Braxton fighting for full custody. “I just lost my job and it’s going to look very bad to the judge.” I took two steps toward her, pleading. “I will fix things. Once the dust settles.”
Her head tilted. “If you tell Ford, it could fix everything.”
“Or I could lose him too.” I shook my head. “I can’t take that chance. Not with custody up in the air. Please .” I needed her to understand. “I can only worry about Cash right now.”
Her expression softened. “What can I do to help?”
“Just pray for me and Cash. That’s all.”
There was nothing else she could do. Nothing anyone could do. Well, maybe Ford. But I wasn’t going to turn to him. I wouldn’t use him for his money even if I knew he’d offer.
No, I’d gotten myself into this mess, and I’d get myself out.
If I only knew how.