Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 62430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“I guess that’s the kind of pie you’ll have to bake for Evil when she takes over the world.” I supplied, not used to being the one who kept up the thread of the conversation.
“Right.” She sobered, putting her pen to paper. She thought better of it, looking up at me with mock exasperation. “I think we were talking about your drug use history.”
“Oh.” I nodded. “It’s been about six years since I’ve really been sober.”
She did write that down. Our conversation was an odd mix of reporting and sharing information. She kept a close eye on her phone and wrapped everything up within an hour of when she arrived. I came to anticipate her visits more than anything else. More than evenings that provided me with little sleep, more than the food that needed salt. Her hair, red as a strawberry, was the only splash of color in the room and her voice the only melody. If I had known I would meet Gina, I would have checked myself into treatment a long time ago.
6
GINA
Ihad two days off. That wasn’t abnormal—most people who work have two days off, but for the first time in my life, I didn’t look forward to them. My new patient Porter was beginning to break through. I could see it when his eyes focused, when he teased me about my cat. He was coming out of the fog, and I wanted to be there when he did.
I knew it was unhealthy to get too attached to any particular client, but I couldn’t help myself from wanting to see them succeed. I would tell absolutely no one about these feelings, not even Cindy. When we ate our lunch in the staff room and complained about patients like we really weren’t supposed to do, I kept quiet. I spoke out about other patients or other situations, but never Porter.
“One of my patients,” Cindy had said, gently skirting the patient privacy laws by refusing to name the person, “spread her poop all over the walls.”
“Please.” I waved my hand. “I’m eating.”
Brad, one of the orderlies, launched into the grossest story I had ever heard, and I threatened to leave. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“What did you think of the movie?” Cindy changed the subject.
“I thought it was fun,” I said.
“It wasn’t really believable,” Cindy pontificated. “I mean, who would go down into that cellar with only a candle? Didn’t she have a cell phone?”
“Or a gun?” Brad offered.
“Did you see it?” I asked.
He shrugged. “You could be talking about any horror movie.”
“It’s true,” I allowed. “But the point is to be scared, not to nitpick.”
“What’s with you?” Cindy pulled apart her string cheese. “You don’t want to talk about the movie, you don’t want to talk about work.”
I pressed my lips shut. How could I tell my best friend that there was one particular thing I was trying not to share? How could I explain that I was having improper thoughts about one of the patients?
“Is it that new patient?” Cindy seemed to read my thoughts. “Porter?”
“No,” I said quickly.
“He’s hot,” Cindy said.
“When did you see him?” Brad asked.
“During intake,” Cindy said. “I was hoping I would get assigned to him, but no such luck. Have you seen him with his shirt off?”
“You know what?” I stood up, masking the truth behind her accusation with anger. “That is inappropriate. I can’t stay here and listen to you guys talk about the patients like that.”
“Like what?” She gaped, putting her hand down on my wrist to stop me from leaving. “Gina, I was just joking. No one’s around to hear us.”
I tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ears, feeling my cheeks heat up.
“You don’t want to talk about the patients or the movie,” Cindy decided. “You pick the topic.”
“He works at my dad’s lumberyard,” I revealed, returning to my seat.
“Who?” Cindy gasped, leaning forward.
“Porter,” I said, betraying myself with a grin.
“I knew it!” Cindy jumped up, clapping. “You have seen him without his shirt.”
I motioned her to be calm. “That doesn’t mean he cuts trees shirtless. Let’s talk about peas.”
“Peas?” She returned to her seat.
“Yeah, why is the supermarket always out of peas?” I offered the first topic of conversation I could think of.
“Right.” She rolled her eyes. “I never noticed.”
I had three sessions with Porter every day, and I looked forward to them. He was slowly coming out of his shell, and I had to admit, that rumpled just-out-of-bed look really worked for him. Since that first day, he had always been fully clothed, though I could imagine the washboard of his chest beneath the loose scrubs. It was shameful that I had those thoughts about a man struggling to save his own life. I admonished myself every time but couldn’t deny that he was a very attractive man.