Chapter 9

"Hauling him up and down the stairs whenever he wants to be in a different part of the house," Clarisse said.

"I can only imagine," I said.

"The nurses the center is sending over aren't cutting it. If it's not one thing, it's another. It's hard to find a nurse that will take him on full-time. They're usually rotating between two or three patients a day. My mom and I are having to pick up the slack, but we can't do it all. It's been two and a half months and it's only making the three of us angrier at one another," Cara said.

My heart ached for them, but I was also presented another opportunity. I had the credentials to be his nurse. I had the specialty of working with people with disabilities. And the money from being a private nurse would really do me some good. I had a feeling they were unloading onto me because they had no one else to talk to, but I had a solution that might benefit everyone involved.

And get me into the nursing game the way my parents wished I was.

"I'm sorry," Clarisse said. "We just… you've witnessed so much and our son's been less than hospitable in his actions towards you. We wanted the chance to fill you in on what was going on since you're sort of around everyday anyway."

"We know you have other things to do. We just thought we owed you an explanation as to our attitudes," Cara said.

"We aren't neglecting Alfred," his mother said.

"I never thought you were," I said. "But the truth is, you can't keep up with his needs."

"We know," Cara said. "We're… trying to find a solution for that."

"I have a suggestion. If it isn't out of place," I said.

"We'll take anything at this point," Clarisse said.

"I'm a licensed nurse. And I'm trained to work with people with disabilities like Alfred's. Recoveries and P.T. and things like that. I go to the gym regularly, so I can physically handle the demands of his caretaking, and all of my extracurricular activities were devoted to psychology classes, so I know a thing or two about taking care of the mental health of my patients."

I watched their jaws go slack as I drew in a deep breath.

"I could help you guys out during his recovery if you need it. And I don't come with the added weight of being employed by a center who rotates me through clients," I said.

I watched the two of them look at each other as my mind began to swirl. I wasn't sure if I had overstepped a line or anything, but this family all needed someone to lean on. Someone to give them a break. Given the house they lived in and the expensive bouquet of flowers they had on rotation, being their private nurse would pay my bills, give me plenty to put away after paying off my student debt, and give me the ability to travel some in the future. It would be a wonderful move into a career I didn't think I'd be able to step into right out of graduate school, and part of me was hoping they would offer me the job.

A chance to take a different life path. Though I was going to miss the flower shop if they hired me.

"That's very generous of you," Cara said. "But I don't know if bringing in someone outside of the center is a good idea."

"You sound qualified, don't get us wrong," Clarisse said. "But the center vets these nurses carefully. Background checks. Drug tests. Licensing. It's safer for us, given our status in the community, if we go through the center."

I felt myself melting through the floor as I stood there. I was thoroughly embarrassed. Why the hell did I ever think they would take some dinky florist up on some idiotic job offer?

"I completely understand," I said. "And I'll be back tomorrow with the daily floral arrangement."

I nodded my head and walked over to the massive double doors. I didn't want to be in the house any longer. I felt my hands trembling with embarrassment. Like a kid who had been silently laughed at by all the adults in the room. I threw the doors open and went to take a step, but stopped when I saw the silver leg props of a wheelchair in front of me.

My gaze worked its way up Alfred's body and found his eyes hooked onto me.

"No," he said.

I furrowed my brow as his gaze moved over my shoulder.

"She's not going anywhere."

"What?" Clarisse asked. "What do you mean?"

"The two of you have been bickering like an old married couple over what to do about a new nurse. So I'm going to settle the argument. She's hired," he said.

"What?" I asked.

"You can't hire her," Cara said. "She's… the florist."

"Who picked me up off the floor without a second wind to give," he said. "She stays, but I'm leaving."

"What the hell does that even mean?" Clarisse asked.

"It means I'm hiring her and taking her back home. With me. I'm not staying here any longer."

"You can't go back home, Alfred. You have to stay here so we can take care of you," Clarisse said.

"No, no, no. Let's hear him out," Cara said.

"You don't live here?" I asked.

He looked up into my eyes as I cocked my head.

"This isn't my home, no," Alfred said.

"Then if you're going to hire me, my first decision is that you get home. No wonder you're not recovering here. You're not in familiar territory," I said.

"Alfred, you're staying here and that's the end of it," Clarisse said.

"Mom, he's right," Cara said. "We've been overriding his decisions for the past two and a half months. If he wants to go home, who are we to stop him?"

"I'm not giving up on my son."

"No one's giving up on me," Alfred said. "But I'm tired of being here. Of wearing the two of you down. I'm going home and I'm hiring—?"

"Amanda," I said.