Chapter Twelve
When you work in a nursing home, a shower is always required after the shift. I let the warm water run over my body, replaying my conversation with Liam from earlier. My mom tried to talk me out of coming here. She told me she couldn’t afford me, and it was my idea to take a measly salary. I was able to defer my nursing school loans for a year, and then I’ll figure it out.
My mom and I are a team. She’s an anchor in this world of unknowns, and I trust that we have each other’s best interests at heart. She begged me not to come but being around her is like coming home, and I insisted. I pull on my favorite cutoff shorts and a tank top. I stand in front of the full-length mirror in my room and brush my hair, which has gotten so long. I can’t remember the last time I had a haircut. I put on a little blush, mascara, and tinted lip moisturizer. I smack my lips together and head downstairs.
“What can I help with?” I ask as my mom stands at the kitchen counter, making her famous summer salad. It’s got uncooked ramen noodles, cabbage, scallions, and almonds, and it’s always been my favorite.
There’s a knock at the door, and she looks over her shoulder and smiles. “Saved by the bell.”
Liam stands there, a bottle of wine in his hand. A breeze comes up behind him, and I inhale the fresh scent of whatever he’s wearing.
“Are you going to invite me in?” Liam raises an eyebrow.
“Sorry. Yes, of course. Please.” I open the door wider.
“Welcome back to the Hurst haunted house,” I say, and he smiles. “You should see it at night. It’s a lot scarier.”
“Liam,” my mom says, rounding the corner, holding her large bowl of salad. “Thanks so much for coming. It’s so beautiful out, I thought we could eat on the back deck.”
“What can I help with?” he asks.
“There’s a stack of plates over there. Birdie, grab us glasses and utensils, please.”
We get situated at our round table on the deck in our backyard. I love it out here. On one side is the cemetery, and on the other side and behind us is farmland as far as the eye can see.
“Everything looks great,” Liam says, as my mom hands him the plate of chicken.
“It’s been so hot out, I didn’t want to make anything too heavy.”
Liam holds out the bottle of wine. I nod, and he pours me a glass.
“I appreciate you offering to look at the finances,” my mom says. “I’ve been studying them to death. What I can’t figure out is what to change. Our biggest expense is salaries, and we can’t get people to work at the nursing home if we don’t offer competitive pay. I’m not sure what else to do. I’ve never been at such a loss.”
Liam glances up from his bowl. “I’d like to have a frank conversation. Lay everything out on the table.”
My mom nods. “Should I be nervous?”
I cut my chicken and lean toward Liam, giving him my full attention.
“The way things are going now with the nursing home in its current state is only sustainable for another six months, best-case scenario. It’s been operating in the red for a very long time. Bills are overdue. And the capital equipment agreements are out of compliance, which puts you at risk of losing those vital resources.”
My mom puts her fork down. She leans back in her chair and runs her fingers through her hair.
“You’re barely paying yourself, June. Or paying Birdie.”
“Liam,” I say, and his eyes cut to mine. “I told you—”
“It’s okay, Birdie,” my mom says. “He’s right.”
“When Midwest Care, the owner of the nursing home, brought you on, I don’t think they had any confidence that you’d turn things around.”
“The nursing home is for sale,” Liam says. “Midwest Care has been trying to sell this one off for years because it’s not making any money. They’re trying to get as much for it as possible, but at the same time, they’re taking a huge cut of the money that’s coming in, which means no matter what you do, you won’t have enough revenue.”
“I noticed that,” my mom says. “But I’m not sure what I can do about it. They aren’t going to agree to take less money.”
Liam looks at me and then turns toward my mom. “If you’re serious about turning things around, you should buy the nursing home. Midwest Care needs to be out. Immediately.”
My mom nearly chokes on her water.
“Me? Buy the nursing home?” She laughs. “I’m not business savvy. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” Liam says. “Midwest Care is going to be willing to negotiate. I can help you with the paperwork to start your own business. It’s not worth any money right now. Anyone who buys it is taking on a huge liability. They’ll be motivated to sell.”
My mom folds her hands over her face and lets out a deep breath. “I have my inheritance from the ranch, but that’s all. And I wanted to give that to Birdie someday. What if I lost it all?”
Liam leans back and folds his hands behind his head. “Based on the salary you’re paying yourself, you’re dipping into your inheritance on a monthly basis already. Once everything is transferred to your name as the owner, we can work on the revenue stream. I have an extensive background in corporate fundraising.”
“You’ve been quiet, Birdie,” my mom says, looking at me. “If I do this, I’m in Wheaton. Is this even where you want to be?”
“Yeah, Mom,” I say. “I think I do.”
My mom passes around a bowl of raspberries, and I pop one in my mouth.
“This is a lot to digest, Liam,” my mom says. “I need to think long and hard about everything.”
“Of course.” Liam takes a sip of wine. “I’ve dabbled in actuarial work, along with finance. I’m going to write up an analysis of financial risk for several options moving forward to give you a clearer picture.”
My mom puts her hand on Liam’s and squeezes. “I can’t thank you enough. You’re good at what you do. I can tell. The world of finance needs more honest people like you.”
Liam takes a long blink and sucks in his breath. My mom’s phone starts vibrating on the table, and she glances at it.
“Lucy’s calling,” she says. “I better take this.”
My mom walks inside and closes the French doors leading to the deck with a thud.
“How’d I do?”
“It sounds bad.” I scrape my teeth along my bottom lip. “Buying the nursing home, though? I hope you’re right.”
Liam refills my glass of wine and rubs his palms against his temples. “It’s not about right or wrong. It’s weighing risk and whether your mom—and potentially you—want to do it. I’ll tell you this: if you don’t, this nursing home will be shut down within the year after Midwest Care files for bankruptcy. Guaranteed.”
Liam looks up at the sky and closes his eyes. His lips turn up ever so slightly.
“You enjoy talking about this, don’t you?” I throw a napkin at him, and he laughs. “You’re one of those people who geek out discussing finance and risk analysis, aren’t you?”
He throws the napkin back at me. “I can’t help it. I love this stuff.”
I grab his arm and stand. “Okay. Let me show you something I love.”
I grab the half-full bottle of wine and our glasses. Liam follows me through the thick grass toward the cemetery. I kick off my flip-flops, skip, and twirl, feeling the softness beneath my feet.
“Why am I not surprised that you like to hang out with dead people?” Liam smiles.
“You know they aren’t actually here, right?” I say quietly.
“It doesn’t scare you living by the cemetery? In a haunted house?”
“You know who has never hurt me?” I put my hands up in the air and spin. “Dead people. It’s the living that scares the shit out of me.”
“Huh,” Liam says, taking my hand and spinning me toward him. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”
I lick the sweet wine off my lips, and we reach my favorite spot in the cemetery, a stone bench that faces a few gravestones, with large, rolling hills in the background. I take a seat, and Liam sits next to me. I refill our glasses and let out a deep breath.
Liam turns to me. His white shirt brings out the bronzed tone of his arms.
“Given everything you know about my professional past, thank you for trusting me with something so important.”
“Well,” I say, glancing at him over my wine glass, “if you mess with my family, I will kill you.”
Liam barks a laugh, but then his expression falls.
“I had a great job in Manhattan,” Liam says. “I started getting recruited by Feldmans, and it felt good to be so desired. When they offered me a job, my dad warned me about financial startups like them. I told him he had nothing to worry about and took it anyway.”
I put my hand on his arm and feel the muscles underneath. Liam glances at me over his shoulder.
“Things were too good to be true,” he continues. “And part of me knew it then. I may not have had anything to do with their schemes, but I didn’t say anything either. I collected my paycheck and kept my mouth shut.”
Liam presses the glass against his lips.
“When they went down, I lost everything. My retirement, my salary. My pride. When I called my dad to tell him, the first thing he said was, ‘Well, I told you so.’”
He puts his hand on my forearm. It’s heavy. Large. Electric. The subtle touch ignites something in me in a way that I don’t allow often. Part of me wants to go back to a few weeks ago when he was the ornery grandson of Sunny and Sis. Now he’s Liam Bergland, the handsome, sometimes mysterious friend who makes my body heat.
“Thank you,” he says.
Our gazes stay locked on each other, his hand unwavering. My brain jumbles up with thoughts. I look beyond Liam to where the sun is almost touching the hills.
“This,” I say, pointing, and Liam turns. “Is what I wanted to show you.”
The sun hits the top of the rolling hills, and everything turns to hues of orange and pink as it begins to disappear, getting smaller. Neither of us says anything. The gravestones light up with the shadows of the sun. They glow as if they’re coming alive.
“You’re really selling the beauty of a cemetery, Birdie.” Liam stands, holds out his hand, and helps me to my feet. “But I refuse to be here at night.”
“Understood.” I laugh as I reach to the ground and grab the empty bottle of wine.
We walk through the grass in comfortable silence. I’m deep in my thoughts about what my mom buying the nursing home could mean, and also thinking about how rare it is for me to find someone attractive, yet a new electricity passes between Liam and me.
The dishes are all cleared from the outside table, and we step inside. I peek out front, and my mom’s car is gone. Whatever Lucy was calling about must have been some nursing home emergency she had to attend to.
“It’s late,” Liam says, walking toward the door. “Please tell your mom thanks for dinner. And that I’ll be in touch.”
Liam pauses at the door. His mouth opens as if he’s going to say something, but then he snaps it shut.
“See you tomorrow,” I say.
“Yes.” Liam steps outside and looks at his phone. “I should get back to the cottage just in time for my dad’s third drink, which is when he starts lecturing me about all of my bad life decisions.”
“Ouch.” I scrunch up my face. “Good luck with that.”
Liam extends his arm and playfully pushes my arm. “Night, Birdie.”