Aggressively Mediocre Internet Use #2
She half smiles. “Lana. Irene’s niece.”
I turn back at Irene, who’s grimacing as she tries to adjust her butt on the mattress. “It’s so great to see you! How’s your
ankle?”
“Well, it’s about to be more metal than bone, but I get to do narcotics for a couple of months.”
I don’t know if I should smile at this, so I do this weird half-open mouth thing that I understand is typically off-putting.
“I’m so sorry,” I blurt as their eyes dart to me. “I mean, it’s really awful this happened.” I hold my breath steady, but
can they hear my heart racing?
Irene lets her head drop. “Every day I’d notice the carpet was coming up right on top of the stairwell and I’d think to myself:
Somebody is going to trip over that if I don’t get it fixed. Goes to show, you should always trust your gut.”
Irene’s blaming herself. The guilt I’d been carrying like a change purse rattles inside me. I have to fess up. I have to make
it right—
“Don’t beat yourself up too hard,” Lana chimes in. “There were plenty more factors than a tiny bit of carpet. It looks like the wiring should’ve been inspected a long time ago.”
There’s an angle behind Lana’s words, her demeanor.
“Anyway.” Irene narrows her brows. “Aren’t you usually at work this time of day, Mona?”
As if I could forget that part of my life’s mess. “I’m just taking a staycation. Sort of a mental health thing.”
Her eyebrows raise slightly. “That’s good they have that now.”
“Yeah, and since I’m around, I’ve been helping with Ernest.”
Instantly her eyes widen, her whole face going soft. “I heard! Oh, how is my sweet baby?”
“He is such a good dog.” My smile is real, but my mind draws to all the dog privates I witnessed Ernest huff during our walks—it was
like he was trying to figure out all their deepest secrets via their anuses.
Irene smiles. “I’m surprised at you, Mona.”
I try not to let my smile crack.
“I assumed Sami would take my little Ernesto.” Irene’s grin stretches into every corner of her face. “But I’m glad that sweet
boy didn’t take on too much with all his work at the diner, so I appreciate you helping us.”
“It’s really my pleasure,” I practically croak as newly developed sweat cools my chest. “I’m free if you need any more help.
Checking your mail, watering plants—anything really.”
“You mean that?” Irene’s eyes raise.
I nod. “Of course, anything you need.”
Lana’s hands clap together so fast that Irene and I both jump. “I was hoping you’d say that.” She bobs her head toward her
aunt. “Aunt Irene is going to stay with me while she recovers, but I’m so allergic to dogs. I’d be sneezing all day and night.”
Irene scowls, but I hastily nod. “Ernest can stay as long as he needs.” He’s been decent company so far. I don’t even mind feeding him the poop-pellet-shaped food that Sami left for me, even if the smell triggers my gag reflex.
“And,” Lana continues, “we really would appreciate some help around the building. Things have been tough for my aunt lately.”
Irene’s hands ball into little sharp fists against the bed’s arms. “I don’t need help. I’ll be back running the place soon
enough.” Even though she’s been sitting in a hospital bed, this is the first time she’s looked vulnerable.
Lana turns her phone on again and clicks her manicured fingers against the screen. “That’s not a long-term solution. You can’t
do this forever. And if you want to avoid bringing in a management company . . .”
Irene’s expression plummets. “Fine, but only if you stop threatening me with that.”
Wait. Does she mean for me to be, like, a temporary super?
I interject too. “I’m not sure I’d be able to—”
“Oh, you’d be great!” Lana turns to Irene. “There’s nothing to it.”
I can kind of believe that is the case with the way Irene’s been running things.
Irene’s eyes flash just before Lana continues. “And I know my aunt would be happiest with a tenant who really cares.”
Shit. I force the guilt to still.
Irene’s grin is too hopeful. “It would only be while I’m recovering. I’m sure not too much can happen in that time.”
“Yes, I’m happy to do it.”
“Great!” Lana actually makes eye contact with me as she makes her way over. “My aunt needs help with the operation of this
place and wants to avoid the rental companies. Given her injury, she’ll need to rest.” Lana’s pointed stare shifts to Irene,
who shakes her head, before returning to me. “So we appreciate you alleviating the burden.”
“Absolutely!” And I really mean it as I stare at Irene. Having something to do might be the only way to keep myself going. I’ve been so lucky. I can get my life back on track and I won’t screw up again. But before that, I can help this lady. I can make amends for my wrongs. I don’t have to be like—
“What’s with your perverted smile?” Irene’s scrunching her face into her glasses.
My expression blanks. “I just . . . I’m happy to help.”
“Mmm.” Irene shifts in the bed.
“Great! We really do appreciate it.” Lana walks over and lifts her hand for a shake, her sandalwood perfume overriding the
smell of disinfectant.
I take her bony hand as she says, “I’ll come by later and get you everything you need.”
“Hope you feel better.” I wave to Irene and back away toward the doorway.
“Thank you, Mona,” Irene says, and then coughs, wincing as her body jolts.
Lana rushes over to her side. “Let me ask for more painkillers. Here, lie back down. Want me to change the channel? You like
Frasier, don’t you?”
“Fuck Frasier.” Irene lets out a raspy cough.
Fair enough, I think as I make my way into the hall.
“And his brother Niles too.”