Reclaimed

by Vicki Green

  I nod as I walk to his beside. His eyes are closed and for a man who towered over me, he looks so small in the even smaller bed. His skin looks pale and not the darker skin color I’ve been used to all my life. He is one of those people that at the beginning of spring, he’d go out and mow the yard and come back with a dark tan. He always said he had some Indian blood in him, but I think he was just teasing.

  He opens his eyes and I have to hold in my gasp when he smiles. Food is stuck in his teeth and when I leaned down to kiss his cheek, his breath just about knocks me over. I’m livid as I stand back up. They aren’t taking care of him properly on the permanent hall. As soon as I leave here, I am going there and they won’t like me when I talk to the staff.

  They decide to put Dad in a room for the night, wanting to run more tests and make sure he’s okay to return to the nursing home. I stayed until he was settled and asleep, telling the nurse that he’ll need help brushing his teeth and he’ll need mouthwash too. It’s late afternoon as I head over to the nursing home. Calling Ella, the director, on the way there, I tell her I need a meeting with her, the head nurse on the permanent hall, and Dr. Turner as soon as I get there. She assured me she’d set it up. When I get there and walk inside the front door, Ella greets me and I follow her to a conference room. Dr. Turner is there and some woman, who I suspect is the head nurse on Dad’s hall. I sit down facing her and Dr. Turner and clasp my hands on the table.

  “Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Ella begins. She looks at Dr. Turner. “Jack, I know you’re not the doctor on B-hall but I do know that you have an avid interest in Mr. Benton.” Dr. Turner nods. Ella turns to me and smiles. “Please proceed, Miss Benton.”

  I clear my throat and sit up straight. “Yes, thank you. As you know, Dad was taken to the ER this morning with chest pains and high blood pressure. They are keeping him overnight for further tests. However, what I discovered when I saw him was the most horrible means of not being taken care of since he moved to your hall.” I look directly at the head nurse. “Now, I realize he just recently has gotten worse but he cannot take care of himself. I found tons of food lodged in between his teeth and his breath is horrible. Obviously, he’s not brushing his teeth.”

  Ella gasps and Dr. Turner turns and looks at the nurse with a frown.

  She’s clearly uncomfortable and begins to stammer. “I was informed that he could do things himself, that he needed minimal help.”

  Dr. Turner shakes his head. “Tami, I updated his records to include his dementia has worsened and could not do most things on his own.” He turns in his seat to face her. “Does the staff on your hall not check on patients several times a day? Do they not make sure everyone is healthy and taken care of?”

  “Well, yes… I…”

  He turns to Ella. “I want him back on my hall,” he says with determination.

  Ella looks to Dr. Turner and smiles. “While we all appreciate that, Jack, you barely have room for the patients you have now.”

  He looks at me and smiles. “I’ll make room. He’s very fond of Brice and when Brice returns tomorrow he’ll be upset to learn that Mr. Benton has been moved. I want this move to happen today before Mr. Benton is released from the hospital.”

  And with that, plans were set in motion. Ella informed the head nurse that she wanted to speak with her once we’d left. As I head towards the front door to go home, with the need to call work and tell them I wasn’t coming in today and why, Dr. Turner stops me. “Saige.” I turn and wait for him to catch up, giving him a genuine smile. “I’m so sorry for what happened with your dad. Is he okay?” First time through this entire ordeal that anyone has even bothered to ask that question. My respect for Dr. Turner just went up a lot.

  “Thank you for asking. I hope so. I guess I’ll know more in the morning.”

  He smiles. “Well, please keep me informed.”

  “Thank you. I will.” He starts to turn and I grasp his arm, stopping him. He turns to me. “Thank you for what you said in there.” I tilt my head towards the conference room. “I appreciate you being so helpful and getting him moved back to your floor.”

  He smiles again and removes his glasses. “I only want the utmost care for my patients, and I still consider him my patient. I’ve grown rather fond of him myself, and I know he feels more at ease with Brice. Sadly, it won’t make him better, but I can assure you, he will get the best care from the staff on my hall.”

  I smile back, feeling a bit better but still angry this happened at all. “I trust that he will. Thank you, again.”

  I called work on the way home and spoke with Jackie, and she told me not to worry about it and take off as much time as I needed. I stopped by the liquor store on the way home and bought a twelve pack of Bud Light. I learned my lesson on drinking shots so I’m staying with what I normally drink. I go inside my house, change into a pair of yoga pants, my tennis shoes, and an old long sleeved t-shirt that has seen better days but is still my favorite. I pack up my small cooler with ice and beer and walk out the back door, down the deck steps, and through the side gate. I follow the dirt path that I remember walking so many times in my life, down the hill and onto the sandy beach.

  The sun is beginning its descent in the horizon with looks as though it’s going to go right into the water. When I lived at home, I used to come here almost nightly and watch the beautiful scenery. It always calmed me, centered me, but not tonight. Tonight I’m angry about what happened with Dad, how they have treated him so poorly. I sit here and drink beer after beer, hoping for that calmness to take me. But it doesn’t. I remember his teeth and how bad his breath smelled. How could anyone treat someone that way? Aren’t they supposed to be there to help take care of those that can’t take care of themselves? What do they think the “permanent hall” represents? The more I drink, the angrier I become. By the time I finish my fifth beer and the sun is long gone, I stand and hold the empty bottle back, like I’m going to throw it in the ocean. But I can’t because that would be littering, and I can’t do that.

  In the darkness, I feel raindrops start to splatter on me. Then as if the sky is as angry as me, it opens up with the loudest thunder and lightning streaking above, showing the black clouds all around. Rain begins to pour and I just stand there, opening my arms to it, relishing the feel, and how it matches my irritation at the world. Suddenly, I’m not just angry at what happened today but what’s been happening for the last almost four months. Why? Why does it have to be him? Why does it have to be the last person in my family? Why do I feel so all alone?

  “WHY?” I scream dropping the beer bottle at my feet and balling my hands into fists at my side.

  I’m soaked and shivering but screaming felt good – I do it again.

  “WHY HIM? WHY NOT ME?”

  I begin to sob, my tears intermixing with the rain on my face. It’s pouring so hard, and it’s so dark, I can barely see around me. “WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME HERE ALONE?” I choke on my words and sob harder.

  Suddenly, I’m grabbed from behind, losing my balance as they turn me around. I start screaming and hitting their chest hard, while trying to move from their arms. “NOOOO!” They’re hold tightens, and I hit harder. It’s hard to see in the darkness, but they seem so familiar but I keep hitting and kicking with my feet. “NO!” I scream.

  “Let it go, Saige.”

  Dax’s voice surrounds me, but I keep hitting and hitting and screaming until my voice begins to go hoarse then I start crying, and my stamina starts to slow. My hits become more like pats as I sob so hard my stomach clenches. Then his hand is on the back of my head, pushing until my face is pressed into his chest.

  “It’s okay to let it out when you need to,” he whispers, barely heard in the raging storm. I shiver in his arms. “C’mon. Let’s get you home and dry.” I nod into his chest – I don’t want to move. I’ve missed him so much and have had such a shitty day. He doesn’t let me go so I walk with him. He leans down and picks up my cooler, never removing his
arm from around me. I press my head against his shoulder as we walk up the hill. The rain hits us hard while we walk home, and by the time we get to the gate, I’m freezing. I stumbled a few times but he held me firmly. “You’re cold.” He takes me through the house, both of us leaving droplets of rain water and bits of sand in our wake, and straight to my bathroom. He turns on the light, and I close my eyes, the brightness not welcome. “Hold on.” He places my hand on the counter to steady me yet I feel cold without him near. He doesn’t leave me for long, his warmth returns and I let out a sigh. “Just stay put.” I hear the water in the bathtub and then his hands on my arms. “I’ve turned off the lights and lit candles. You can open your eyes.”

  Slowly I open my eyes to the warm glow in the small room. I look up and see him bending down in front of me, looking into my eyes.

  “I’m going to undress you now.”

  I let him pull my shirt up and over my head, shivering. He squats before me and pulls down my yoga pants, my panties with them. When he gets them down to my feet, he taps on my foot lightly, and I place my hands on his shoulder as he removes my shoes and I step out of my pants. When he stands I lift my eyes to look up at him as he reaches around me and unclasps my bra. He slides the straps over my shoulders and pulls them down my arms. His face is full of concentration as he takes it and drops it on the pile of my saturated clothes. The room filled with only the sound of the running water as he takes my hand and helps me into the tub, checking the water before shutting it off. I watch him undress. It’s not sexual or seductive. His face is now full of worry. He steps in behind me, his legs on either side of mine. He pulls me back until I’m fully in his arms, my head resting on his shoulder. No words are spoken. None are needed. He rubs my left arm while he cups water in his free hand, pouring it over my right arm, my shoulder, and my chest. I don’t know how long we lay here but I finally look up at him. His brows are lowered and he’s staring at me.

  “You’re here,” I whisper, my voice raspy.

  The side of his mouth lifts. “I’m here,” he whispers. He leans down, and I close my eyes as he presses his lips to my forehead, relishing it.

  I look back up at him, my brows lower in confusion. “You weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow.” My heart hammers in my chest and I spring up, looking all over his body for cuts and bruises. He captures me with his hands and pulls me back down against him.

  “I’m fine.” He chuckles. I let out a sigh in relief. He strokes my hair and I close my eyes, briefly. I’ve missed this. Missed him. He tightens his arms around me as I wait for more. “Peter called me.” Ah. “Of course it was later in the day. He told me about your dad, and I knew you’d be beside yourself.” He lets out a sigh as he rubs my arm. “I got here as soon as I could. I should have been here for you sooner. You needed me. I failed you.”

  My eyes snap up to his. “What? No. How could you have been here? You had things to do. You didn’t fail me.”

  He looks at me, seriousness covering his beautiful face. “My main job, my biggest priority is you. I’m trying so hard to get this business done then I’m quitting. My place is here with you, to be here for you, to love you, and to protect you. I wasn’t, so I failed you.”

  Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I begin rubbing his arm that’s across my stomach. “You’re too hard on yourself. You didn’t know that Dad had been rushed to the emergency room. You didn’t know that he wasn’t being treated well at the nursing home and…”

  He abruptly lifts me up and turns me to face him, his hands grasping my upper arms. His eyes search mine. His face changed from concern to anger. “What do you mean he wasn’t being treated well? What the fuck happened while I was gone?” he growls.

  I set my resolve, knowing he’s angry at the situation and worried about Dad. “When I went to the ER I found that he hadn’t been brushing his teeth. The odor was horrible and food was stuck everywhere in his teeth. They hadn’t been taking care of him on that other hall.” He fingers tightened around my arms. “When I left the hospital, I went over to the nursing home and had a “come to Jesus” meeting with Ella and the head nurse of that hall. Dr. Turner was there too. He’s being moved back to your hall as soon as he’s released from the hospital.”

  He purses his lips. Anger radiates from him. I’m not sure if he’s only angry at what happened to Dad or angry with himself for not being here, again. He’s too hard on himself, but it makes me love him that much more. “Fuck,” he whispers, beating himself up. His eyes suddenly soften. He releases my left arm and cups my face with his hand. “You’re so strong.” I shake my head. “Yes, you are.” Leaning up, he kisses me. Soft. Gentle. Sweet. He sits back and looks into my eyes. “Not many would have gone to the nursing home and fought for what’s right and decent. I’m proud of you.” He pulls me down and kisses me hard. He breaks the kiss and lays me back down against him, his arms encasing me.

  “I was so angry,” I tell him, feeling so loved and cared for.

  “Is that why you were letting off steam on the beach?”

  I nod. “It felt good to scream.” I look up at him. “I’m sorry for hitting you.” He chuckles.

  “You can use me as a punching bag any time you feel the need.” I smile. “Once everything is sorted tomorrow with your dad, I’ll take you where I let off steam.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Power Max, the gym in town. I’ve become somewhat friends with Matt, the owner.”

  I let out a laugh, and he raises a brow. “I dated him in junior high.” I feel his growl in his chest as it reaches my ears. I let out another laugh. “We’re friends, Dax. Nothing more. Our few dates ended amicably. He had his eyes on Penny Dawson, and I just wanted to study.” God, I sound pathetic. “Anyway, he married Penny and they have three kids now. Besides, I’ve never been to his gym. I’d always preferred jogging through our neighborhood or on the beach.”

  He tightens his hold around me, kissing the top of my head. “I’ll take you tomorrow. There’s a punching bag there with your name on it. It’s a better alternative to screaming and drinking while getting soaked to death by the rain.” I look up at him and smile. “Let’s get you out of here and dried off.”

  I feel so relaxed and so sleepy that it’s difficult for me to move. He lifts me up and gets out of the tub then helps me out. Before I can turn, he’s gotten a towel from the linen closet and dries me completely. He takes another towel and starts to dry my hair. Once he’s done all he can do, leaving my hair damp, he quickly dries himself then grabs the brush on the counter. Lifting me into his arms, he takes me to the bed, setting me down carefully. He climbs onto the mattress and sits behind me, his legs surrounding mine. I close my eyes as he brushes the snarls and tangles from my hair, something no one’s done since my mom passed away. It lulls, relaxes and calms my already overtired body. Once satisfied, he sets the brush on the nightstand and pulls down the covers, grasping my arm and helping me get settled against him. He pulls the covers up over us and kisses the top of my head as he brings my arm over his stomach, holding it. I’ve never been more exhausted, more comforted, and more cared for. My eyes close of their own accord, and I instantly begin to drift off.

  “Mia per sempre,” he whispers. “Forever.”

  23

  I’ve never been so pissed, learning what all happened to Saige’s dad in my absence. That head nurse should be fucking fired. I had no idea they’d planned to move him off my hall or I would have stopped it. Even without loving Saige, I’ve grown fond of Harry and had planned on doing whatever I could to help him through this until he found peace. No one deserves to leave this earth without their dignity. I had planned on speaking with Jack, Dr. Turner, once I’d returned knowing Harry’s time was growing shorter being on our hall with his recent changes. Once again I’d failed. I should have spoken with him before I left. I should have been here for Saige. She was so angry so I let her hit me until she wore herself out. When I’d found out what all happened, I’d have
given anything to go to the gym and hit the punching bag until my knuckles were raw and bleeding. But I needed to take care of her, get her warmed so she didn’t become ill. I needed to hold her as much as she needed to be in my arms.

  And then my business was no better. I had leads to where the asshole might be, only to miss him at every turn. He must have been laughing his ass off at me. For over two years, I’ve tried to nail his ass. His partners weren’t so lucky. They’re not alive to care anymore. It was their loss when I was trying to take them in. They shouldn’t have fought me. This needs to end. Now.

  It’s still dark in her bedroom, the sun not even thinking of rising yet. I didn’t sleep much, her restlessness made me hold onto her that much tighter, whispering words of comfort to her. She’s strong, confident, and stubborn. I can bet all the money I own, which is quite substantial, that she didn’t eat at all yesterday. She’d lose, I’m sure, but couldn’t afford to pay up, monetarily. No matter. I can think of a million other ways to be repaid.

  I check the clock, looking over her head. I’m hoping Harry is released today and sent back over to the nursing home. I want to be there, privately assure him that I’ll never leave him again, or Saige. He needs to know I’m there for the long haul, until he no longer needs me. My business might have to take a back seat, knowing there might not be much time left for him. I hate to think it and would never say it to Saige, but I pray that he’s taken quickly. I’m sure his pride has already been hurt, knowing he’ll never go home, and if he already hasn’t, will begin losing his precious memories of everything and everyone who’s important to him.