Chapter Three
Echo
T HE NEXT AFTERNOON, my last patient just happened to be my favorite. Judith Ansell was in the last stages of ovarian cancer and probably had less than two months left, but she was holding on with all she had. And her husband, Floyd, was the reason why.
He was absolutely one of the loveliest men I’d ever met in my life.
Judith was in her mid-seventies, while Floyd was just a few months older than she was, and they’d been high-school sweethearts.
They’d had one son who’d died in a motorcycle accident when he was twenty, and it had almost ruined Floyd (this had been disclosed to me by Judith during one of my visits).
She’d also told me she suspected Floyd was autistic but no one ‘checked for those things back in our day,’ so he had disappeared into his office which she said had helped him cope with the loss.
One of the things Floyd liked to collect and hyper focused on was old fruit crate labels.
He had thousands of them. From the early nineteen-hundreds and up.
“How did you cope with your loss?” I asked her.
“Oh, honey, I didn’t. Mothers never do. I just held onto Floyd a little tighter. Actually, a lot tighter. I died inside, but I had to keep going because who would take care of my Floyd if I gave up?”
I gave her a gentle smile and squeezed her hand. “Does it get better with time?”
“It sure doesn’t. But I suppose you find things to distract you.
We traveled and did our best to celebrate each other.
It was us first, you know? But in my grief, and not really caring if I lived or died, I didn’t really take care of my health and that has bitten me in the butt.
” She blinked back tears. “And now, I’m leaving him. ”
I grabbed my stethoscope and made her a promise. “I will make sure Floyd is looked after.”
Her eyes lit up. “You will?”
“Absolutely.”
“You’re a good girl, Echo.”
I smiled. “I try. Now, let’s get your vitals.”
I knocked on the door and Floyd answered, his hands flapping as he waved me in. “She’s in pain. ”
“Oh my gosh, okay. I can help.” I rushed inside and straight to Judith’s bedside. “Hi, lovely, Floyd said you’re in pain.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m okay. It’s just been a bit of a rough day.”
“Right. Let’s get your vitals really quick, then we’ll get you some pain meds.”
“Help her,” Floyd growled.
“I will. I promise. But I have to do this first.”
“Now,” he demanded. “Help her now.”
“Pinky,” Judith cooed. “Sit down, honey. Let Echo do her thing.”
Floyd flopped into the chair next to her bed and I ran through a quick vitals check making sure Judith knew what day, month, year, we were in, who the current president was, etcetera.
She was perfectly lucid, and her vitals were good, other than an elevated blood pressure that came with pain, so I gave her morphine, and within twenty minutes, she started to relax.
As did Floyd, although, he was up and pacing the room, his hands flapping like they did when he was upset.
“Floyd,” Judith prompted as I rechecked her vitals.
“Oh. Right. Um, sorry, Echo, if I scared you.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry if I scared you when I was growly.”
I jotted down Judith’s now lowered blood pressure. “You didn’t scare me, Floyd. You were just worried. I get that.”
“I would never hurt you. ”
“I know that,” I said.
He flapped his hands again. “Sometimes Judy says I look mad when I’m not and she says I need to explain, with words , because people don’t understand.”
I faced him and smiled. “I know you would never hurt me, Floyd. This is a very scary time, and I understand that you’re worried about Judith. Thank you for apologizing but you and I are good.”
He nodded and sat back in the chair.
“Did you want to show Echo the book, honey?” Judith asked.
“Oh, right,” Floyd muttered, and stood again, making his way to the dresser. “Here’s everything since Tuesday.”
I took the notebook with a grin. Floyd had taken it upon himself to buy a notebook at the very beginning of our time together, and in it, he wrote down Judith’s med schedule, her bowel movements, absolutely everything that happened by the minute.
“Thank you, Floyd. You know how much of a help this is for me, don’t you? You are probably the best nursing assistant I’ve ever had.”
He beamed. “Really?”
“Absolutely. You might want to look at this as a second career.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of a mega store greeter.”
“Oh yeah?”
He gave me a cheeky smile. “Yes. I’d say, ‘Welcome to the store, get your shit and get out.’”
I couldn’t stop a laugh as I opened Judith’s notebook. “Oh my gosh, Floyd. If you were the greeter, I’d so shop there.”
With Judith’s pain under control, Floyd was back to his old self, and the three of us fell back into a natural and friendly rhythm.
The notes Floyd had taken updated me on everything I needed to know about how Judith’s past few days had gone, so I was able to take a little extra time just to visit with the couple, which I cherished.
“Now, I have an extra hour because of your amazing notes, Floyd, so can I make you both dinner before I go?” I asked.
“You’re not paid to do that,” Judith pointed out.
“I know that.” I squeezed her arm. “I know for a fact Floyd did a big shop when I came on Tuesday, so how about my garlic chicken pasta?”
“That sounds delicious,” Floyd breathed out.
“And if that’s too much, Judith, I’ll make you some soup,” I said.
“Will you eat with us?” Floyd asked.
“If you’d like.”
Floyd clapped his hands then rubbed them together in glee. “Alright! Let me show you where everything is.”
I ended up staying for another three hours, mostly because I adored Floyd and Judith and I enjoyed their company, so once I did one more vitals check on Judith and made sure her pain was under control, I headed home and fell into bed.
Then I broke down.
I didn’t know what I was going to do when she died .
I just knew it was going to gut me.
* * *
Archer
“Arch!” Hatch bellowed, and I tried to bite back an expletive.
I was currently in the parts room of his shop trying to find a chain guard for a sixty-nine Triumph Bonneville and failing. He said it was back here, but I swear to god, it wasn’t.
“Yeah?” I bellowed back.
Hardcase poked his head in and frowned. “Have you moved in back here, or what?”
“I can’t fuckin’ find this goddamned chain guard.”
“For the Triumph?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed.
He walked over to the bench in the middle of the room, picking one up and said, “You mean, this?”
I dropped my head and swore.
“What are you, stupid or blind?” Hardcase taunted.
“It’s too early for your shit, hard-on,” I snapped, taking the part from him and heading out to the shop.
And it was too fucking early. Seven a.m., and I’d already been there for two hours.
Plus, there was the Hardcase of it all.
I fuckin’ hated this guy. He was one of the ex-Spider prospects that Hendo had vouched for.
Most of the guys seemed okay, but something about Hardcase rubbed me the wrong fuckin’ way.
Hatch seemed to have taken a shine to him, but I didn’t trust the guy as far as I could chuck him.
He was a decent mechanic and a hard worker, but he was also good at busting my balls by reminding me that I was ‘on time out.’
Mother fucker was about to find himself on permanent time out if he didn’t shut the fuck up.
When Hatch said I was going to work my ass off for the next week, he wasn’t kidding. Of course, it meant he was also up this early, which in turn, pissed him off further, so we were two pissed off bikers in one place.
It was great.
By the time noon rolled around, I think we were both ready to kill each other.
“You need to pull your head outta your ass and listen to what I just said,” Hatch growled.
“I’m doing exactly what you just told me to do!”
“Jesus, kid, are you seriously goin’ with that old chestnut?”
“How about you use actual words, instead of just grunting—”
“What is going on in here?” Maisie’s sweet voice infiltrated what was probably our twenty-fifth argument of the morning.
“Hey, Sunshine,” Hatch said, standing and making his way over to her, kissing her gently.
“Why are you yelling at Archer, darling?”
He frowned. “I wasn’t yelling at Archer.”
She raised an eyebrow. “My gorgeous, sexy, amazing husband, I could hear you the second I stepped out of the car. ”
“In his defense,” I said. “I was giving as much as I was taking.”
“Maybe so, love, but he’s your boss, at least for the next week and your pseudo uncle. Not to mention, your president. As such, he should be nicer.” She reached up and tugged on his beard. “Don’t you think?”
“Oh, I see how it is.” I chuckled, crossing my arms. “Yeah, Hatch. Maybe you should be nicer to me.”
Hatch stared down at her, sliding his hand to her ass and giving it a squeeze. “We’re gonna have a conversation later about interruptions in my day, beautiful.”
“Can’t wait.” She gave him a sassy grin. “For now, are you hungry? I thought you could break for lunch.”
“I’d love to break for lunch,” he said.
“I could eat,” I said.
“Not you,” Hatch countered. “You’re eatin’ at the front desk while you take calls.”
“What the fuck?”
He grinned. “And whenever the lobby’s clear, you’ll be watching safety videos.”
“That’s gotta be some kind of OSHA violation.”
“Would you rather I invite your mom over to tell you all the ways she’ll miss you if your brains are splattered on the side of the highway?” he snarled.
“That would be an Archer violation,” I snapped back.
“Hatch,” Maisie admonished.
“This is how he learns, baby,” Hatch said. “Right, where am I taking you?”
“Regal Beagle,” she said.
Armando’s Kitchen was a local restaurant that the parentals referred to as ‘the Regal Beagle’ because the décor was retro and reminded them of their favorite seventies’ sitcom.
Hatch grabbed his keys and wallet, and Maisie mouthed, “Sorry,” to me as they headed out.