by Jeff Shelby
“No idea. At least 24 hours.”
“And you said they’re running tests?”
Anne gave a curt nod.
“Do they have you on any medications or anything?”
Her gaze narrowed. “Why would I need medication?”
“I don’t know. For your wrist?”
“I do not need pain meds,” she grumbled. “What I need is to be released.”
I wasn’t exactly sure, but I didn’t think the hospital could hold her against her will. If she wanted to sign release papers and check herself out, she was probably within her right to do so.
I was about to mention this but when I looked over at Anne, she had nodded off. Her head was tilted to the side, her jawline loose, her mouth slack. With her eyes closed and the frown lines that typically furrowed her brow gone, she looked years younger than her actual age…and a heck of a lot nicer, too.
I shifted in my chair and the plastic squeaking under my legs woke her up. She looked at me, a little disoriented.
“Why are you here?” she managed to croak.
I frowned. “I got here a few minutes ago.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up? How long have you been sitting there, just staring at me?”
“We had a conversation,” I told her. My frown deepened. “Do you not remember?”
Her eyes clouded, but then her expression cleared. “Oh. Yes, now I do.”
I wasn’t convinced, though.
“Do you want me to get a nurse?” I didn’t know what typical symptoms of a concussion were, but the fact that she’d dozed off and then didn’t immediately remember I was there seemed like things her care team should know about.
She shook her head. “I do not need a nurse.” She looked around the room. “What I need is to go home. Get in my car and just go.”
“Your car?” I asked. “Is it still drivable?”
Her brow puckered. “What do you mean?”
“With the car accident…?” Had she forgotten that part, too?
“Oh.” She deflated a little, sinking back further into the pillow tucked behind her. “I guess I don’t have it, do I?”
“Do you remember much about the accident?” I asked.
Anne pressed her lips together, and I couldn’t tell if she was going to respond with an actual answer or an angry retort.
“A little,” she said.
Since she didn’t outright shoot me down, I asked another. “Was there another car involved?”
“Only when I ran into it.” She ran her good hand over her hair, tucking a few shorts strands behind her ear.
“Did it cut you off?”
Anne shook her head.
I waited.
“I don’t actually remember what happened,” she admitted. “I was feeling…I don’t know. I was feeling a little out of it, I guess. Really tired. The next thing I knew, I was on the side of the road and my car was smashed into a parked SUV.”
I stared at her. She’d answered my question but I was stuck on one thing she said. “You don’t remember how it happened?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “No.”
“No?”
She looked me squarely in the eye. “I don’t remember anything.”
SEVEN
It was hard not to notice the mood at Oasis Ridge the next day.
Everywhere I looked, people were in high spirits. At first, I wondered if it had something to do with the weather. It was late October and we’d woken up to a day that actually felt like fall. The morning that greeted me when I woke up was a little on the crisp side, with a robin’s egg blue sky and a brilliant sun that promised to not heat up too much. Maybe that was what had put a spring in the step of every resident and worker I saw in the halls and in the common rooms at Oasis Ridge.
But I doubted it. We were all inside, in a climate-controlled atmosphere and with a mixture of harsh fluorescent and soft ambient lighting that made even the cloudiest days obnoxiously bright.
I knew the real reason why everyone was in such a good mood.
Because Anne wasn’t there.
I tried not to think about just how vulnerable Anne had appeared the day before, propped up in that hospital bed. I’d felt true flickers of worry when she dozed off and when she couldn’t remember why I was there. The concern intensified when she admitted she couldn’t remember much about the accident.
None of us should have been celebrating her absence, especially considering the circumstances that had led to it.
But we all were.
Bryce was in an especially good mood, it seemed. He entered the Gathering Room, high-fiving residents and bestowing megawatt smiles on everyone he saw.
Including me.
“Sunny.” He strode toward me, his smile intensifying. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.” I paused. “How are you?”
“Excellent. Just excellent.” He nodded toward the hallway. “Do you have a minute or two to spare? I thought we could chat a little, just sort of see if there’s anything we need to go over with Anne gone.”
“I think we’re good,” I told him. “The only thing I need is for the December calendar to be finalized but I can’t imagine that will get done until—”
Bryce snapped his fingers. “Of course. How could I forget?” He beamed a new smile at me. “Consider it finalized.”
I tilted my head, not sure I was hearing him correctly. “Excuse me?”
“Your calendar. It’s good to go.”
“But Anne—”
“Anne isn’t here,” he said firmly, his smile still in place. “And in her absence, I’m making some executive decisions. Including decisions about the activities calendar.”
“Oh.” This was definitely news to me. “Um, okay.”
He eyed me. “Is that okay? You were happy with what you’d submitted, right?”
I nodded. “Oh, yeah. Definitely.”
To say I was happy was a massive understatement. I’d gotten in the habit of padding the calendar, putting in far more events than I thought Anne would approve. My hope was that she’d give the go-ahead for at least a couple of them. Not in my wildest dreams had I thought every single proposed activity for December would be given the green light.
“And you’re sure you can do this, right?” I asked. The last thing I wanted to do was to start calling groups and organizations to firm up details and then have Anne show back up and decide to cancel everything.
Bryce gave a firm nod. “I’m the acting director.”
“But when Anne comes back—”
“If she comes back,” Bryce said.
I stared at him. “If? Did she take a turn for the worse?” I wondered if her condition had deteriorated overnight.
“Not that I know of,” Bryce said. “I’m just saying, we don’t know for sure if or when she’s going to return. It could be tomorrow, it could be next month…no one knows. And we can’t wait for her to return to make decisions.”
What he was saying made sense.
But it didn’t make me any less uncomfortable.
“Did you say you’re in charge now?” a voice asked.
Denise appeared by my side, her hands on her hips.
He transferred his smile from me to her. “I did indeed.”
She gave him a quick once-over, almost as if she were assessing his worth. He didn’t flinch, didn’t frown, just looked at her with that easy smile of his.
“What’s happening with the dining room?” Denise asked.
“The dining room?” he echoed.
She nodded. “Anne said something about changing breakfast and lunch to buffet style. Said she was gonna change it over soon.”
Bryce stroked his chin. “Yes, we discussed that a couple of days ago.” He cleared his throat. “What are your thoughts, Denise?”
She eyed him curiously, as if she wasn’t quite sure she’d heard him right. “My thoughts?”
“You work in the dining room. You are probably one of the people who wo
uld be most affected by the change,” he pointed out. “Well, you and Lola, and the residents, of course. What do you think? Is it a good idea?”
Denise was quiet for a minute. Her silence made perfect sense. Anne never asked for anyone’s opinion…because hers was the only one that usually counted.
“I don’t think so,” she finally said.
“I can see the benefits from a cost standpoint,” Bryce said. “There is the potential for less food waste.”
Denise shot him an irritated look.
“But,” he continued, “I’ve seen the interaction you have with the residents. I’ve heard you tell them to finish their vegetables or to eat their prunes. What happens when that human point of contact goes away?”
Denise’s expression changed. “Exactly,” she exclaimed, her hands now on her hips. “There are far more important things than saving money. We need to keep these residents healthy, and eating a well-balanced diet is one way to do it.”
“I agree,” Bryce said. “So I say we keep things the same for now.”
Her eyes bulged. “Really?”
“Really,” he said. “It seems like something that would take a lot more planning and conversation before we could implement it. Let's keep the ball rolling the way it's been rolling.”
It was Denise’s turn to beam. “Well, then. I…I guess I’ll be heading back to the dining room now.”
She turned to leave but not before I heard her mutter something under her breath.
“I hope Anne stays gone forever.”
EIGHT
My office phone rang and I debated not picking it up.
I’d spent the better part of the day on the phone, making arrangements for all of the December activities. It felt good to type confirmed events into the computer-based calendar, and to know that this would be the fullest monthly calendar on record since my arrival at Oasis Ridge. Well, actually since forever, considering the director before me had limited events to bingo and manicures.
So when the phone rang just shy of five o’clock, I hesitated. I felt all talked out. But what if it was someone I needed to talk to? What if it was someone calling about one of the activities?
I picked up.
And immediately wished I hadn’t.
“Sunny.” Anne’s voice was harsh.
I bit back a sigh. “Hello, Anne.” And then I remembered to ask, “How are you?”
“How do you think I am?” she snapped. “I was in a car accident, for crying out loud.”
“Are you still in the hospital?”
“No, I came home today.”
“So no concussion?”
“What is this, Twenty Questions?” She sighed loudly. “I have a mild concussion. Nothing they can do about it…which is exactly what I said when I got there yesterday.”
“Oh, well that’s good news, then.”
“What, that I have a concussion?”
“No, of course not,” I said, feeling the heat as it traveled from my neck to my cheeks. “That you’re home.”
“Oh.” She sniffed. “Yes, it is.”
The line buzzed for a minute.
“Is there a reason why you’re calling?” I asked, a little hesitantly.
“Yes. I need for you to come over.”
“Excuse me?”
“Come over,” she repeated. “I need you to come over. Right now.”
“To...to your house?”
“Isn’t that where I said I was?” she barked.
Her tone was getting to me. “I’m actually busy tonight,” I said coolly.
“What?” she sputtered. “But…but I need you. I need you to come to my house right now! I…I order you to!”
“You’re not the boss of me,” I said.
Well, technically speaking, she was, but not in this scenario. And we'd clearly devolved into preschool speak.
I could hear her breathing, struggling to get control over her feelings.
“Fine,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Will you please come to my house this evening?” She was trying to sound pleasant but I could hear the strain in her voice.
“Why?”
“Because I said so!” She stopped, then tried again. “Because I need to see you.”
“Why?”
“I have something important to tell you.”
“We’re talking right now,” I said. “You can tell me now.”
“Not over the phone,” Anne argued. “It’s too…too sensitive.”
I didn’t have the foggiest idea what she was talking about. But I had to admit that she was beginning to pique my curiosity.
“What is too sensitive?”
“What I need to tell you.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Anne, just tell me.”
“No.”
She was giving me a headache. “Look, I don’t have time for this. I know you're not feeling well and I'm sorry. But I am glad you're home now and able to rest.”
“Sunny…”
“I’m going to go. Maybe I’ll see you Monday. I hope you have a good weekend.”
“I was drugged,” Anne blurted out.
I'd been about to hang up the phone, but her words made me stop. “What?”
“I was drugged,” she repeated. “And I need your help to figure out who did it.”
I tried to process what she had just told me. Drugged? Who would drug Anne? And, more importantly, why?
“You want my help?”
“Yes,” she said, without hesitation.
“Why?”
“Because you’ve solved a couple of…situations at work.”
This was probably the closest to a compliment that she was willing to give me.
“I’m not sure what that has to do with you,” I said.
“I’ll explain,” she promised. “I just need for you to come to my house. As quickly as you can.”
It was my turn to sigh. I did not want to go to Anne’s. It was Friday night and I had the bulk of my weekend set aside to do absolutely nothing. I wanted to park myself on the couch and eat takeout and find a show I could binge-watch.
I did not want to go to my boss’s house.
But I would be lying if I said her statement didn’t intrigue me. I wanted more details.
Which was exactly what Anne was banking on. She knew me well enough to know that dangling a carrot like that would lead me right where she wanted me to be.
“Fine,” I said, relenting. “But only for a little bit. What’s your address?”
She told me and I jotted it down on a pad of paper on my desk.
“Alright, I’m leaving now,” I said. “I’ll be there in a little bit.”
I hung up the phone and typed Anne’s address directly into the maps app on my phone.
“You heading out soon?” Bryce asked from the doorway.
I looked up, a little startled.
He eased his way into my office, standing right at the threshold. “Heard you making plans,” he said, nodding at the phone. “A friend or a date?”
“What?”
“The plans you just made,” he said. His eyes twinkled. “Was it with a friend or a date?”
I was tempted to say neither. “A…a friend.”
He chuckled. “You don’t sound too sure.”
“No, it’s a friend,” I said. “I’m just stopping by.”
I could have told him it was Anne. But something niggled at me, told me to keep that bit of news to myself.
“That’s too bad,” he said.
I started straightening up my desk. “What is?”
Bryce leaned against the doorframe. “That you have plans tonight.”
I stacked my papers into a neat pile and slid them to the side.
“If you didn’t, we could have gone out for a happy hour or something,” he said.
I stole a glance at him. He was watching me, a sexy smirk on his handsome face. Butterflies took flight in my stomach and I forced myself to look back at my desk.
“We could have
invited Denise to come along, too,” he added. “Even Lindsay. Connie.”
So he hadn’t been talking about a date.
I felt a wave of relief wash over me, followed by a small stab of disappointment.
That was a good thing, I thought. Wasn’t it? That he wasn’t asking me out?
I mean, Bryce was my boss…at least for the moment. And the last thing I needed to do was go out on a date with my superior. It was already bad enough that I was heading over to Anne’s house during my off hours.
“Oh, that would have been nice,” I murmured. “Maybe some other time?”
“Yeah, maybe,” he said. “I have a feeling I’m going to be here for a while, so there will probably be plenty of opportunities for us to have a rain check.”
I frowned. I wasn’t sure how he would be sticking around too much longer, especially since Anne had been released from the hospital. Maybe he knew more than I did—maybe she was on bed rest or something for a while. But regardless, I was pretty sure she would eventually be returning to her position at Oasis Ridge. And knowing Anne, if she had anything to say about it, it would be happening sooner rather than later.
“You think she’s going to be out for a while?” I asked. I couldn’t help it.
Bryce just shrugged. “No idea.”
“You’re supposed to be transferring though, right? To the new facility in Jacksonville?”
He nodded. “I am.”
“It sounds like a great place,” I said, a little wistfully. I’d heard a little about the new development, and I knew that it was going to be a state-of-the-art facility.
“I’m sure it is,” Bryce said. “But, if it were up to me, I think I’d choose to stay here.”
“Really?” I was incredulous. “Why?”
His eyes locked on mine and he offered the faintest of smiles. “Lots of reasons, Sunny. Lots of them.”
NINE
I got lost going to Anne’s house.
Despite having directions, I made three wrong-turns and then drove past her house, even with my phone giving me explicit instructions.
And I knew why.
I was too distracted by what had just happened in my office to pay much attention to my phone telling me where to go.
