by Dale Mayer
His life goal now was to live the best life he could to make up for his friends’ deaths. Heath should have been the one who died. That he didn’t was something he would have to live with for the rest of his life.
He closed his eyes, hoping that maybe this time he could sleep. Sleep was necessary for healing. He also knew that the docs thought Heath needed to continue seeing the psychologist. The psychologist felt that Heath needed to talk more. And he needed them to just go away and to leave him the hell alone.
The black abyss was one that he rightly belonged in. He shouldn’t even be here, shouldn’t be taking up a bed. He didn’t even know how he’d really come to be here. In one of his more positive moments he’d applied to a bunch of places, and, sure, this had been one of them, but he hadn’t really thought he’d get in. When the acceptance letter came, he’d been given a bunch more paperwork, and he hadn’t cared either way but figured he’d started something so needed to carry it through. He’d signed them and passed them on. Next thing he knew, he was transferred here. But it hadn’t really settled in as to where and to what he’d been transferred to.
As he lay here hating himself and the world he lived in, he could hear the cleaning lady go by—every night as regular as clockwork. He heard the swish of the mop as she dropped it back into the bucket, trying to be quiet but failing. The requirements of her job necessitated some noise. There was something about the mundaneness of her actions, knowing that she was out there and that he, therefore, wasn’t alone.
Yet, after his nightmares every night, seeing his two buddies blown up once more, his tears welled up. He always tried to hold them off, but it was hard. Deep down, he silently wished that somebody could know he was in such pain. Yet that was foolish because, in his rational mind, he didn’t want anybody to know. However, she was a silent witness to his own pain. He hated it, but it was a connection he needed, only hadn’t known it until she started her nightly ritual. It was just one more thing in Heath’s life that was so wrong.
And still, to hear her out there, swishing back and forth, he’d often imagined what she must look like. He figured she had to be at least in her fifties and gray-haired. He wondered if she’d left a half-dozen kids at home. Maybe even grandchildren? Perhaps she had a husband who was retired. Heath didn’t know why it was easier to imagine her as older. Maybe it was the thoroughness with which she cleaned everything.
He could tell time by her movements too. Every night it took her exactly twenty minutes to get to his door. The tears would have already started and now stopped when he finally heard her mop. That sound always made him hold back the tears a little bit better. He hated it, and yet he waited for it. Sometimes teary-eyed. Sometimes sleepy-eyed. He wondered now if he woke up just in time to hear her. He often considered opening the door to see her. Not to embarrass her by any means and not to worry her or scare her, but just for that connection to somebody who had obviously heard his pain and was still here, day in and day out.
Maybe to know he hadn’t scared her away.
Heath never cried in the morning. He never cried during the day, even after Shane put him through the paces. That new guy, Jeff, was supposed to be just as wickedly good too. Or wickedly bad, depending on your viewpoint. Heath seriously hurt after his physical therapy sessions, but Shane kept saying that Heath was getting better, getting stronger. He would just smile and nod, knowing Shane was full of crap.
Because Heath wasn’t getting any better; no way he could get better. Who could possibly want him to get better? He held too much pain, too much horror, too much of everything. He wasn’t suicidal; he just wished that life had been a whole lot fairer and had taken him and had left his friends to live their lives and their dreams with their partners who cared for them. Heath was alone and had always been alone. He knew nothing else. The light in his life had been his two buddies. He’d been an orphan, and nobody else had been in his life like they were. They’d known each other since they first enlisted. He shook his head, trying to figure it out.
“You’ve been there with me for the longest period of time that I’ve ever known anyone,” he whispered. “But still you were taken from me.” And more like a parent who’d lost their child or a brother who’d lost his siblings, Heath had been left, bereft and alone. And he hated it. He’d do damn-near anything to not be this way anymore. Bereft. Alone. Anything but go out to meet and to enjoy the entire community of other broken people in this rehab facility.
Because to acknowledge them was to accept himself.
Chapter 3
Hailee sat in the hallway, holding her coffee, taking a breather before she started work at her second job of the day. She’d come in from her low-level bookkeeping job in town—where she holed up in her office with her head down and with no one to distract her—straight to Hathaway House. This was her life, and it sucked, but each was honest work, and each brought in its own paycheck.
Her phone buzzed with a text. She smiled at her lawyer’s message. It was simple and didn’t say anything really. But the message Making progress made her smile. He was trying to reduce her medical bills from Jacob’s intensive treatments. That Jacob hadn’t made it through didn’t matter to the debt-collection laws or to the hospital. It didn’t matter that she’d struggled to keep food on the table while her infant son had struggled to take each breath.
He’d been gone a year now. A year of deep soul searching, working multiple jobs, and fighting for a greatly reduced hospital bill that would set her free and clear within her own lifetime. Her lawyer also considered going after the company that had laid her off when her son’s health issues had hit hard at the company’s health coverage. Of course they didn’t fire her. They found a way to make her position redundant.
But the hospital bill was the more important issue. She sighed. And could only hope that this nightmare would be over soon.
Voices reached her around the corner from the direction of the offices.
“Did we get a new cleaning lady?”
Hailee stiffened with worry. She couldn’t see who was speaking and didn’t recognize the voice, but dozens of staff members were here, so it could be anyone. “Hi, Anna. Yes, a friend of mine is cleaning for us. Yes,” Dani said, her voice easily sliding down the hallway. “Problems?”
“No,” Anna said. “I was just commenting on the fact that everything seemed so clean, and a lemon scent is in the air when I come in first thing in the morning now.”
“That’ll be Hailee,” Dani said. “She loves lemon. As long as nobody complains about it, then I’m happy to let her use it.”
“No, it’s quite nice,” Anna said, her footsteps clipping across the floor as she walked. She seemed to pause and then asked, “Do you know her well?”
“I do. She has gone through some rough times lately. This job isn’t one that she would normally do. I have a great need for an accountant, and she is one, but I haven’t quite convinced her to come here full-time.”
“She’s an accountant, but instead she’s doing the cleaning?” Anna asked in surprise.
Hailee winced. She hadn’t asked Dani to keep that to herself, but Hailee was a reserved and private person and wouldn’t want others talking behind her back. Although it was human nature, she’d like to avoid their curiosity if possible.
Dani added slowly, “And I’d appreciate it if you don’t pass that on. We all have to do what we need to do for whatever reason we feel is right.”
Prophetic words. Hailee smiled as she sipped her coffee. Dani was a wise woman.
“I don’t have a problem not talking about her,” Anna said. “I’d love to meet her, but I don’t ever see her. She’s not here when I arrive, and she must show up after I’ve left.”
“That’s the way she likes it too. Sometimes it takes time to adjust to being around people.”
“Not sure cleaning on the night shift will do that,” Anna said doubtfully.
“No, but we have to do what we need to do in our own time frame.”
�
��That seems to be one of the Hathaway House mottos here,” Anna said. “Everybody makes progress in their own way.”
Hailee peeked around the corner.
Anna stepped out of Dani’s office into the hallway, then stopped, and, with a big smile, turned back to face Dani again. “Speaking of which, I was down with Stan. Did you see that new cat he’s got down there?”
“A new cat?”
“If that’s what it is,” she said. “It’s huge. I have no clue. But it’s missing a full back leg, like it was taken right off at the hip, but it’s got the temperament of a teddy bear.”
“Wow,” Hailee muttered. She wished she could take a look. She had yet to be in the veterinarian clinic. They had their own cleaning staff.
“I hadn’t heard,” Dani said. “I may take a look at this guy myself.”
“You should,” Anna said, now standing in Dani’s doorway. “She’s huge. As in seriously huge.”
“Is she really?”
Anna stopped, tossed her head to the side a little bit as she considered the question, then nodded. “She definitely has an extra pouch on her. I think she must have had a litter, and she’s holding some of that belly weight,” she said with a laugh. “A common complaint all mothers have.”
“Generally the animal world doesn’t care about it though,” Dani said. “It’s just us crazy human females.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” Anna said with a chuckle. “Anyway, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Anna tossed Dani a bright smile as she headed down the hallway, away from Hailee.
On that note, before Dani stepped out and realized that Hailee had heard them, Hailee got up and headed off to start her shift.
When Heath woke up again, gasping, his breath seizing in his chest and his body completely covered in sweat, he didn’t need to check his clock to know that it would be right around two a.m. He waited for the sounds outside in the hallway to slowly penetrate through the massive din of screams in back of his mind. He could hear his friends screaming over and over and over again. Some cruel twist of fate had this exact same moment frozen in time being relived in his nightmares.
It could have been ten minutes earlier, or it could have been ten minutes later, but it was always when the truck blew up, and he could hear the screams and roars and then the deafening silence. Except the silence was broken by his own sobs. From his friends, there was nothing. Not a sound. And that was worse than anything.
He’d once again be laying there on the desert ground, staring up at the sky, and hoping that he was wrong, hoping that they were just knocked unconscious. But he already knew that they were gone. Such an emptiness resided inside his soul. The only brothers he’d ever known, the only real friends he’d ever had, the only people who had ever given a damn about him were gone. Worse, he’d been responsible.
He didn’t quite understand what had happened, but he knew that Shawn had reached over and grabbed the wheel. They were joking and laughing, and he’d done it as a joke, but his movement had driven the truck to the shoulder of the road. Heath had been too surprised to react fast enough. He should have jerked the steering wheel back faster to keep them on the roadway. But he hadn’t, and then he had no time to respond.
It was just over.
It was becoming quite a habit now, but, as he lay here, his body tense in the cool air and slowly drying as the sweat evaporated around him, he could hear the sounds he expected. The swish-swish of the mop going back and forth across the tiled floors. He smiled and settled back into his bed—almost as if hearing her helped him to stay grounded in this world and a long way away from all the nightmares and the cries around him.
Comforted by the sounds proving she was out there, he closed his eyes and let the repetitive sounds, moving back and forth, ease his soul, bringing him back to the reality of where he lived now. This was his life. And, even as the screams faded, the sound of the mop became louder and louder. It was a comfort; it was a reassurance. It was a connection to another living soul.
And, more than that, it fired up his curiosity about her. Whoever the poor woman was, the last thing she needed was some scary-ass dude like himself opening the door and frightening her. He could get up and open the door at any time; he knew that, but just something about the mystery of her kept him glued into the bed. He closed his eyes and let sleep take him once again.
Chapter 4
When Hailee showed up for work the next evening at eight, she was surprised to see Dani still working in her office. Dani looked up and called her over. “I hope you didn’t stay late for my sake,” Hailee said worriedly. “Am I not doing a decent job?”
Dani looked at her in surprise. “Oh my,” she said, “you’re doing a wonderful job. And several people have commented about the fresh lemon scent.”
“Is that okay?” Hailee asked, still worried if her friend and boss had waited for her intentionally.
“It’s more than okay,” Dani said warmly. “Stop being so worried.”
“It’s hard not to be,” she said. “At least now.”
“It’ll be fine. Just chill.”
“Got it,” Hailee said, laughing. “And, if there’s no problem, I need to get to work.” And, with that, she took off. Sometimes she headed to the laundry area to see how that was going. She came in and helped out in that department a few hours a week. She was totally okay to do whatever was needed, and some weeks it was a little more than others.
As she walked into the laundry area, Dennis from the kitchen brought in another big load of kitchen towels. She grinned at him. “You know what? You guys almost dominate the laundry these days. Sometimes way more kitchen laundry here than bedding.”
“Lots of people eating,” he said. “Lots of cooking happening. Lots of kitchen towels. But we’re nowhere near what the bedding or the linens are or the towels for the showers.”
“Just seems like it,” she said. She took the large hamper and wielded it toward one of the big machines and quickly filled one washer. She added in the soap as required, closed the door, and started it. When she turned, Dennis stood there, his hands on his hips, studying her.
“What’s up?” she asked casually, as she walked over to the utility closet, where her mops and brooms and dustpans were. She would clean the kitchen and dining room area tonight. She turned toward him. “When does the dining room close?”
“Never, really,” he said. “Drinks are always available for any of the patients. Are you gonna vacuum?”
She nodded. “I just thought I would start there a little earlier tonight.”
“Go ahead,” he said. “Are you doing the bathrooms too?”
She nodded. “I’ll vacuum first and then hit up the bathrooms.”
“Good enough,” he said.
As he stepped back, she nudged the hamper at him. “Here you go. You can refill it. I will send another up with folded towels when that load’s done.”
He grabbed the hamper, grinned, and said, “It’s nice to see a friendly face down here.”
She stared at him in surprise. “Everybody is friendly here.”
He shook his head. “Don’t often see anybody in here. Most of the time, I put the laundry on myself.”
“That’s hardly needed,” she said. “There’s like four people doing laundry at this place every day.”
“Yeah, but why add more work for other people if it’s something you can do yourself?”
She nodded. “Well, I agree, but most people don’t.”
He shrugged. “But we,” he said, pointing his finger at her and then him, “are not normal people.”
“No, we aren’t,” she said with a smile. She watched as he disappeared, whistling, happy and cheerful as always. He was one of the most upbeat people she’d ever met. She used to be optimistic. She used to be bright and cheerful, but life had dealt her one too many blows, and she didn’t even feel like she had the time or the effort anymore. And that was such a defeatist attitude.
On that note, she grabbed he
r commercial vacuum and headed up the service elevator to the dining room. With Dennis quickly moving chairs and tables for her, she got started. When she turned around, he was wiping down the tables and the tops of the condiment bottles with a cloth, then wiping down all the chair seats too. She smiled. “You make my job easy.”
“You’ve got enough to do,” he said. “At least a dozen public bathrooms are in this place.”
She chuckled. “Hey, but I’m not doing the private bathrooms, so it’s much better.”
He rolled his eyes at that. “If you need a hand in the bathrooms, let me know.”
She shook her head. “I’ll lose my job. If we’re too efficient, you’ll cut my hours in half.”
He frowned. “I don’t want to do that.”
She chuckled. “I’m kidding. You have lots of work to do for tomorrow yourself.”
“Yep, but I’m waiting for somebody. We’re seeing a movie in town. So, for fifteen to twenty minutes, I can do a little bit of extra work too.” At that, he started refilling the salt and pepper shakers.
She left him to do his kitchen duties. She wasn’t exactly sure what position he held, but he was everywhere, from the kitchen to the dining room to the laundry area. He was one of those guys just happy to lend a hand, and she wished more people were like him.
She headed to the bathrooms, gloves on and armed with lots of cleansers and her mop. She didn’t mind doing the bathrooms. She had such a great sense of satisfaction when everything turned out sparkling clean. She moved steadily from one bathroom to the other. By the time midnight hit, she was damn-near done. But now it was time to start the floors. That always took her a couple hours.
