Chapter 3 So Predictable
WREN
There is nothing worse than Monday morning. I make my way across the parking lot holding two large boxes full of supplies for Dogwood Manor’s annual summer party, mentally going through my checklist of everything I need to get done this morning before it officially begins.
Robin, the receptionist, meets me at the door.
“Morning, Wren,” she says, holding one of the doors open as I walk through. “It looked like you could use a hand. Can I help you with those?”
“Thank you, but I think I’ve got them.”
She smiles and returns behind the front desk, and I continue through the front lobby and the dining room. Dogwood Manor’s resident lovebirds are sitting at a table across from one another, holding hands, drinking coffee.
“Morning, Ms. Clara. Morning, Mr. Eugene,” I say as I walk through the dining room.
“Good Morning, Wren,” Mr. Eugene says, setting his coffee mug down on the table.
He’s dressed in a short-sleeved, plaid button up shirt and khakis.
His gray hair is slicked back with gel, and his glasses frame his soft brown eyes.
Ms. Clara is wearing one of her signature mumus—this one is teal and covered with sparkly pool floats— and matching shoes.
Her white curls are styled, and she’s wearing a little bit of makeup that makes her cheeks look rosy.
“You two are up and ready early,” I say, stopping to talk to them.
“We’re looking forward to the party today and wanted to be ready to go,” Ms. Clara clarifies.
I check my watch, and it’s seven forty-five. “Shouldn’t you be with Lacey doing occupational therapy?” I giggle.
“No, she said I didn’t have to do it today because of the party,” she argues.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Yes, dear. I might be old, but my memory isn’t completely shot.”
“So, what do you have planned for us today?” Mr. Eugene asks. His southern accent rolls off his tongue like molasses.
I open my mouth to explain the schedule for today’s events, but I’m interrupted when my friend, Lacey, comes around the corner breathing heavily, her blonde ponytail swinging behind her.
“There you are, Ms. Clara. I’ve been looking all over for you. We were supposed to start your OT session fifteen minutes ago.”
I stifle a laugh.
“Do we have that today?” Ms. Clara asks, feigning ignorance. “I thought you said we could skip it because of Wren’s thing.”
“No, you know we need to do therapy. Come on. Come with me to the gym, and I’ll make it quick, and then you and Mr. Eugene can go to the party. I’m sure Wren needs to set up anyway.”
“She’s right,” I say. “It won’t be starting until around ten.”
Ms. Clara rolls her eyes.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” Mr. Eugene says, offering her his hand and helping her stand. He leans down and plants a chaste kiss against her lips.
“I love you,” she says, grabbing for her walker and beginning to move across the dining room.
“I love you too,” he says.
“Lacey, feel free to bring any of the residents to the party for your sessions today, and tell the other girls too. I made sure to include things I thought would help you out,” I call after them.
“You got it, girl!” she says over her shoulder.
I make my way to my office and set everything down on top of my desk.
Opening one of the boxes, I begin to inventory my supplies.
There is a knock on the door, and when I look up, I find my boss, Daryl, taking up the entire space between the door frame.
He’s a tall man, with rounded shoulders, and his skin always looks a little gray.
His clothes never fit him quite right, and his black hair is clearly from a box and always in need of a cut.
His general demeanor is like Eeyore, but he’s nice enough, and I appreciate that most of the time he lets me do what I want.
“Big day today,” he says flatly. “What do you have planned?”
“Pick-A-Duck,” I say, holding up a reacher and a yellow rubber duck out of one of the boxes. “Kinda like the fair game, but instead of grabbing them with their hands, they’ll have to use a reacher.”
He nods, so I continue.
“Then I have cornhole, shirt tie-dyeing, a summer-themed BINGO game, and a POG juice tasting. Which reminds me, I need to get some thickener from the kitchen.”
“Fantastic,” he says without smiling. “If I haven’t said it lately, we’re lucky to have you.”
“Thanks,” I reply, offering him a smile. He turns and leaves without another word, and I get started on setting up the activities.
At ten o’clock, the residents start making their way into the rec room for the event. I’m excited when I see a couple of them are accompanied by Lacey and Gray.
We’ve worked together for two years now, and I don’t think I would still be at Dogwood Manor if it wasn’t for them, Poppy, and Chloe. It’s not that I don’t like working here—it’s just not my dream job.
When I started here, I had just gone through the hardest thing I have ever been through.
I felt so lost but was desperate for a fresh start, and while being the activities director in an assisted living facility isn’t what I had in mind when I became a recreational therapist, it pays the bills and brought me the girls I consider my best friends.
The girls who have no reason to include me but still do. We don’t have the same boss. My office isn’t in the therapy gym, but yet they all took me under their wing, and they’ve supported me like no friends I’ve ever had before.
“Thanks for coming,” I say when they walk in. I grab some Hawaiian leis and pass them out to my girls and the residents.
“This looks great,” Gray says, looking at the decorations and each station that I have set up.
“Each station is labeled, and then cornhole and tie-dyeing are right outside the doors.” I gesture to the double doors that take up most of the back wall.
“Let’s start with cornhole,” Gray says to Ms. Betty. They wander off toward where the game is set up.
“How does Pick-A-Duck sound?” Lacey says to Ms. Ethel.
“Fine dear,” she says.
“Great, why don’t you head over to that table, and I’ll be right behind you.”
Ms. Ethel walks away, and Lacey takes a step closer to me. “Gray said y’all ran into Tanner the other night. Have you thought anymore about moving in with him?” she whispers.
“How many times do I have to say it’s not happening?”
“You don’t have much time left to find something.”
“I have plenty of time. I don’t need to be out for another two and a half months.”
“Regardless, Jace told me this morning that Tanner’s still looking for a roommate.”
“He should ask the blonde I saw him go home with on Friday night.” I laugh.
“Blonde?”
“Yeah, I walked out of the bathroom and he was attached to this blonde girl like some sort of mouth leech.” I shudder at the memory.
“I was at their apartment Friday, and there was no blonde.”
There was no blonde?
“Maybe they went back to her place. I mean, I saw him kissing the blonde. No way he didn’t hook up with her.”
“You know when I got out of the bath, him and Jace were talking about something, and Tanner said it was work, but I thought I overheard him say something about a girl before I walked out. Maybe that’s who he was talking about.”
“Did Jacks say anything?”
Why do I care?
“We didn’t really do much talking that night.” She giggles. “And then by Saturday morning I forgot about it.”
“Lacey, are we doing this or not?” Ethel shouts across the room.
“Coming,” Lacey chimes. “We’ll talk more later, and I’ll see what Jace knows. Promise me you’ll consider what I said about the roommate thing.” She squeezes my arm and then moves away toward Ms. Ethel.
Consider living with him? Not a chance in Hell.