3. Vayda #2
Vinny sits on the sofa next to the wheelchair.
He holds a small plastic cup of chocolate pudding, guiding a rubber-coated spoon to Brendan's mouth. Vinny is a sturdy Beta with endless patience. He is my respite nurse for nights like this and during my heat, also coming twice a week to help me transfer Brendan to the shower chair since the Hoyer lift can’t to fit the master bathroom.
His extra shift tonight is the only reason I managed to go to the game with Kristy.
"He's had a pretty good night." Vinny offers me a warm smile.
He scrapes the last bit of pudding from the cup and feeds it to Brendan.
"We got his shower done early. He's been vocal and excited for about an hour waiting for you.
We watched a documentary about deep-sea submarines. He liked the glowing jellyfish."
Brendan swallows the sweet treat, letting out a soft sigh to confirm the story.
I smile down at him. "Jellyfish, huh? Sounds like a wild Saturday night."
Vinny stands up and stretches his back. He grabs his work tablet from the end table.
"Alright, let's go over the hand-off. He took his evening anti-spasmodic meds at seven.
Blood pressure has been stable since his shower.
He had a pureed chicken and vegetable mix for dinner, kept it all down without any choking issues. "
I nod, tracking the information. It is the same routine every single day, but the details matter. Missing a pill or ignoring a blood pressure spike leads to hospital visits. "And his last change?"
"I changed his brief about two hours ago." Vinny grabs his jacket from the back of the sofa. "He'll need a fresh one for bedtime."
"Got it. Thanks, Vinny. I appreciate you taking this extra shift tonight."
"Anytime, Vayda. See you on Monday for his next shower."
Vinny lets himself out the front door. The lock clicks into place, leaving just me and Brendan in the quiet house. Cali jumps down from the sofa and rubs her side against the wheels of Brendan's chair, purring.
I roll my sleeves up past my elbows. "Alright, Bren. Let's get you into bed and cleaned up."
I unlock the brakes on his wheelchair and push him down the short hallway into the master bedroom. The room is dominated by a hospital-grade adjustable bed. A mechanical Hoyer lift sits in the corner, its metal legs and canvas straps waiting to be used.
I start with the transfer. I grab the large canvas Hoyer sling and lean Brendan forward in his chair. I slide the fabric down behind his back, tucking it under his hips. I grab his legs one at a time, sliding the leg straps under his thighs and crossing them in the middle.
I roll the metal base of the lift under the wheelchair. The machine hums as I press the button on the remote, lowering the cradle down to his chest level. I hook the canvas loops onto the metal clips, double-checking every single connection. A mistake here means dropping him.
"Up we go." I tap his shoulder to warn him.
I press the up button. The lift whirs, taking his body weight out of the chair.
He dangles in the air for a brief moment.
I grab the handles on the back of the lift and pivot the entire machine over his bed.
I press the down button, guiding his hips with my hands so he lands in the center of the mattress.
I unhook the straps and pull the sling out from under him. I roll the lift out of the way so I have space to work by the side of the bed.
Next comes the change. Brendan is incontinent, so staying on top of this routine is critical. I pull down his Garfield pajama pants.
"The game was great tonight, Bren. You would've loved it."
He listens to my voice, offering one of his crooked smiles. It's a sweet look, but I can tell by the slight vacancy in his eyes that he struggles to understand what I'm saying. He just likes the sound of me talking.
I undo the tabs of the soiled adult brief and roll him onto his side, facing away from me.
"Henry got an assist in the third period. A beautiful drop pass right in the slot. The crowd went crazy."
Medical wipes clear his skin and let me check for any red spots or irritation. The soiled brief gets rolled inward and tucked under his hip, making room to lay the fresh brief flat against his back.
A gentle push rolls Brendan onto his back again. The soiled brief pulls away. The front of the clean one comes up, tabs secured tightly in place. His pants slide back up, followed by a quick adjustment to the pillows under his head.
The thick quilt settles over his chest with the edges tucked in so he feels secure. Leaning down, a kiss to his forehead finishes the routine. His skin feels warm and familiar.
"Goodnight, Bren."
He blinks at me, the exhaustion catching up to him.
Flicking the bedside lamp off plunges the room into shadows. Leaving the door cracked open ensures any sound he makes carries down the hall.
My bedroom sits a few steps away. Sinking onto the edge of the mattress, my tired legs finally get a break.
The memory of those three Alphas clings to my thoughts.
A true scent match is rare. Finding Emmett, Hale, and Brendan back in college gave me a perfect match before I had been with any Alphas.
Stumbling into a second perfect match years later seems impossible. Stories about an Omega finding two sets of true scent matches are unheard of. Then again, my circle of Omega friends is basically zero, making my sample size pretty small.
It's almost laughable. Emmett and Hale would have lost their minds with excitement if they knew three star hockey players were my second match. Even Brendan would have been impressed back when he was himself. He loved watching the Reapers play.
But a new pack can’t happen. My life is here, in this house, with the medical equipment and the quiet routines. Nothing is going to disrupt this safe space or force Brendan out of my world.