A Friendly Encounter

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A Friendly Encounter Page 3

by Alex Dafney


  He looks over to me before turning an angry scowl toward his wife. “I already told you, I don’t need a nurse.” She glances over at me, giving me an apologetic smile. I step forward, a bright smile on my face and an outstretched hand toward him. “Mr. Russell, I’m Abbi Knowles.” He shakes my hand tentatively, as if the mere fact he’s shaking hands is signing some invisible contract between us.

  “No disrespect, mam, but I won’t be needing your assistance.” I give him a warm smile despite his words. Like I had told Mrs. Russell before, he’s not my first patient that didn’t want my help. “How did you break your hip?” He gives a grunt, folding his arms over his chest and looking across the room toward the window.

  “That old mare decided to throw a tizzy and kick back a leg when I wasn’t paying attention.” My eyes widen in surprise. Most of my patients at this age who suffer a broken hip do it with a fall. “You got kicked by a horse?” He grunts again and I’m starting to understand this is part of his way of communicating.

  “Then he walked back here from the back pasture and I had to force him to go to the hospital.” I stare at Mrs. Russell, my mouth slightly open. This old man is hella tough to have done that. “I didn’t need no surgery. My hip’s fine. I’ll be up and walking in a few days.” He turns to me, a slight scowl marring his face. “Which is why I don’t need ya.”

  Mrs. Russell starts to open her mouth and I place a hand on her shoulder. With a smile, I address him. “How about I hang around this morning, just to make sure you don’t need anything.” He gives a grunt and turns the volume of the TV back to its ear drum shattering level. I turn to walk out of the room, hoping Mrs. Russell is following.

  She closes the door gently and faces me in the small hallway, a regretful look on her face. “I’m sorry, honey. He’s normally more polite than that.” I wave a hand toward her in nonchalance. “I promise, I’ve seen it all.” She starts to shuffle toward the living room as I walk behind her. “Our grandson is coming in from California. Arnold thinks it’s more fitting for him to help care for him.”

  She moves through the living room, stepping through a doorway that leads into a homey kitchen. She glances back at me, waving her hand for me to follow. “I worry our grandson won’t be able to help much though. He has a life in California. A job. Girlfriend. You know.” She shrugs slightly, pointing to the kitchen table. “Have a seat, honey. I’ll fix us some coffee.”

  I take a seat at the table, watching her as she slowly moves about the kitchen. “I’ve witnessed many families try to take care of everything on their own in situations such as this. It can be done, but it’s hard on everyone. I’m trained to do this, most of the time, family members are not.” She nods lightly as she pours coffee into two cups.

  She places the coffee mug in front of me before sitting across from me at the small oak table. “I know. Like I said, I don’t think our grandson will be able to stay during the entire twelve-week recovery. Arnold’s just so darned stubborn.” Her brows draw together, causing me to chuckle. I take a sip of the warm coffee, thankful for it after my fitful night of sleep.

  A sudden clatter comes from down the hallway and I jump up, sloshing the coffee over my hand. I wipe it on my scrub pants as I briskly walk toward Arnold’s room. I knock as I push the door open. My eyes nearly popping out of my head when I find him hanging off the side of the bed, trying to reach the TV remote that has fallen to the ground.

  I step over to him, gripping his shoulder. “I’ve got it.” I shake my head as I push his upper body back to the bed. I give him a stern look and he sighs irritability. Reaching down I grab the remote, placing it on the bed next to him. “I would’ve gotten it for you.” He mumbles as I walk back toward the doorway. “Next time, please call for me. I don’t want you falling on that hip. It could cause irrevocable damage.”

  He scoffs loudly as I pull the door closed behind me, going back to join Mrs. Russell in the kitchen. As I round the doorway, she’s just made it to standing, her eyes meeting mine. “I was coming to help, honey.” I give her a smile as I sit back in the seat I just vacated. “He dropped the remote and was trying to reach for it.”

  As she sits, she lets out a heavy sigh. “That man is as stubborn as a mule. Probably why he got kicked by one.” I let out a laugh. “I didn’t even hear that.” She looks down into her coffee cup, a worried expression on her face. I reach over, placing my hand on her arm and giving a gentle squeeze. “That’s why I’m here.” She pats my hand, giving me a small smile.

  As the clock creeps toward noon, I know I have to get going. I have three more patients I need to check in with today, but I don’t want to leave Mr. Russell. He’s too stubborn for his own good, and in my experience, those are the patients that end up further injuring themselves by refusing help.

  I check on Mr. Russell, finding him to be snoring just as loudly as the TV before venturing into the kitchen. Mrs. Russell has her back to me, facing the stove. My stomach grumbles at the smell in the room. “Mrs. Russell? I’ve got to get going. I won’t be able to come back tomorrow morning, but I’ll be here in the afternoon.” She glances at me over her shoulder. “Sit and eat lunch.”

  I give her a grateful smile as I shake my head. “I can’t. I have three more patients I need to tend to today.” She turns to me, giving me that warning look that only Moms and Grandmothers have as she points to the table with the wooden spoon she holds. “You sit down right this minute. It won’t take you ten minutes to eat.”

  I glance at the watch on my wrist. I should’ve left two hours ago, but I didn’t trust Mr. Russell not to do something and wind up hurting himself. “I’m sorry, but I need to go. I’m already late.” She lets out a sigh as she pulls open a drawer, pulling out a small container with a lid. She grabs a ladle from the drawer beside the stove and dips it in the pot, filling the container.

  She steps over to another drawer, pulling out a silver spoon and placing it on top of the container as she shuffles toward me, holding it out to me. “At least take it with you. I noticed those apples and granola bars in your purse. You can’t possibly keep up your energy with eating just that.” I take the container from her gratefully. Little does she know, that was to be my lunch for the day since I’m already behind schedule.

  “Thank you. I’ll bring these back to you tomorrow.” She waves her hand toward me as I hurriedly grab my purse from the table and make my way toward the front door. As I drive to my next patient’s home, I can’t help but to worry about Mr. Russell. I have a feeling he’s going to be my trouble case.

  Chapter 3

  I groan as I’m awakened by my four o’clock alarm. I swing my legs over the bed, rubbing my eyes and stretching my arms over my head before making my way to the bathroom to get ready for the day. After leaving the Russell’s home yesterday afternoon, I made my way around town to my other three patients and didn’t get home until after nine at night. Thank God for Mrs. Russell’s homemade chicken and dumplings since that’s the only meal I had all day yesterday.

  Quickly getting ready, I head toward the front door, snatching a banana from the counter on my way out. I stop in my tracks when I find Remington sleeping on my small couch. I step over to the couch, kicking the bottom with my tennis shoe. “Rem! Wake up!” He groans, placing his hand over his eyes and peeking through his fingers at me as I scowl down at him.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” My voice is laced with anger and frustration. I haven’t heard a word from him since our argument Sunday, and now I find him like this? It’s not like it’s the first time he’s come into my home in the middle of the night, but normally he crawls into my bed smelling like liquor and cigarette smoke after a gig at a bar. Most of the time another woman’s perfume as well.

  “Uh, my set didn’t end until late. I didn’t want to wake up Mom and Dad.” I let out a huff as I drop my hands to my hips, tapping my foot on the hardwood floor. “But it’s alright to come in and wake me up? Knowing I have to be at work early?” He lets out a sigh as h
e sits up, swinging his long, lean legs to the floor. “I didn’t wake you up, Abbi. That’s why I slept out here so I wouldn’t disturb you.”

  For a brief second my heart constricts in my chest. This may be the first thing he’s done in years that was a selfless act. Maybe he’s coming around in his thinking? I shake my head, quickly shaking the thought away as I pick up my purse from the coffee table and glance at my watch. “Dammit.” Now I’m fifteen minutes behind schedule. I make my way around the couch toward the front door and pull it open, making a mental note to get my key back from him, but I don’t have time for that conversation now. I’ve got to get to my patients.

  My first visit of the morning goes rather quickly. I helped Mrs. Harris get ready for her dialysis appointment and got her into her daughter’s car before driving like a mad woman toward my next stop. Mr. Allred wasn’t as appeasing this morning and refused to let me change the bandage on his chest incision from his most recent heart surgery. He shooed my hand away as I sighed, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

  “Mr. Allred, you will let me change this bandage, otherwise you’re going to start growing mold and we’ll have to toss you out like last weeks leftovers.” I was rewarded with a small chuckle and his willingness to let me do what I needed to do. After talking with his sitter, I hurried out the door, stuffing a granola bar down my throat as I travelled toward the Russell’s.

  As I pull in the driveway, I notice a shiny new sedan that wasn’t here yesterday. I quickly make my way toward the porch as I brush granola crumbs from my chest. Just as I raise my hand to knock on the door it swings open and a tall, dark haired, muscular man barrels through in a haste, slamming right into me as he holds a cell phone to his ear.

  I stumble backwards, my purse sliding to the porch as I try to catch myself from falling. Strong arms slide around me, grazing over my breasts, catching me just before I hit the wooden porch. “I’ll call you back.” I suck in a shuddering breath at the contact, his deep voice vibrating through me. He quickly rights me with little effort and drops to his knees, gathering the contents that spilled from purse and shoving them inside quickly.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were standing there.” I kneel, trying to grab the more embarrassing items from my purse before this handsome man sees them. Just as I grab for a random tampon, that’s probably been traveling with me for a decade, he does the same, his hand sliding on top of mine. I curl my fingers around it, but his hand doesn’t move from mine.

  I slowly bring my head up, finding him staring at me with a small smile and raised eyebrow. “Abigail Knowles?” My brow draws together in slight confusion. The way he says my name it sounds like he recognizes me, but there’s no way I would forget this man’s name. As I look in his dark blue eyes, I’m suddenly hit with a long ago memory.

  A boy in art class, junior class, when I was a lowly freshman in high school. Most of the upperclassmen looked down upon us, but that lanky boy with the same dark blue eyes was always kind, offering to help me when I seemed lost as to what the assignment was. “Jason?” His mouth pulls up into a large grin, highlighting a dimple under his neatly trimmed facial hair. He stands, offering me his large hand to pull me up.

  Of course, I hold out the hand that encases the wayward tampon, slipping it into his palm. As I pull my hand from his and grab my purse that he offers me, he holds the tampon toward me. I take it, my cheeks turning bright red as I slip it in my purse. I glance up at him. He has to be at least 6’3. I’m not a short girl, average height at best, but I have to crane my neck up to look into his eyes.

  He gives me a kind smile. “It’s good to see you again, Abigail.” I try to match his smile as I stand in front of this obnoxiously handsome man, knowing I look like a damn train wreck after visiting my first two patients this morning. “It’s good to see you as well, Jason. I, uh, go by Abbi nowadays.”

  His grin spreads, showing that dimple in his cheek and I think my heart may stop at the incredibly sexy sight. “I go by Jase.” We stand staring at each other for a few seconds before he thrusts his hand toward the door. “I’m going to assume you’re here to help out with Pops?” He holds the door open for me as I step in, glancing at him over my shoulder. “You’re the grandson from California?”

  He gives a nod, still standing outside on the porch, holding the door propped open. “I am. I was just going out to grab my bags.” I give him a small smile before turning and making my way toward the kitchen. I drop my purse on the table and step over next to Mrs. Russell who hovers over the stove. “Good morning, Mrs. Russell.” She turns to me, giving me a smile as she waves her hand toward me. “Enough of the Mrs. nonsense. Call me Agnus.”

  I inhale the aromas in the kitchen, my stomach instantly growling. “Why don’t you grab a seat? Lunch will be ready in a few moments.” I shake my head at her, pinching my brows together. “Oh, no mam. I’m here to check on Mr. Russell, not impose on lunch.” She glances over at me, giving me that look. “Did you eat my dumplings yesterday?” I nod, a smile creeping onto my lips.

  “I did, and they were wonderful. I’ll have your bowl back to you tomorrow. I simply walked out the front door this morning and left it sitting on my kitchen counter.” There was no simply anything at my house this morning. Finding Remington passed out on my couch threw me for a freaking loop. “No worries, honey. Just get it back to me when you can.”

  I give her a nod before turning to walk out of the kitchen toward the hallway that will lead me to Mr. Russell’s room. The reason I’m here. I tap lightly on the door, already able to hear the loud TV from the hallway. He doesn’t answer and I push the door open a crack to peek inside. My eyes widen and my breath catches when I see him.

  He sits on the edge of the bed, starting to push himself to standing without the assistance of a walker or a cane. “Mr. Russell!” I raise my voice as I hurry toward him, sliding the walker that sits along the wall in front of him as I reach him. He lets out an irritated sigh, glancing up to me. “I thought I told you I didn’t need your help.” I place my hand on my hip, giving him a smile. “Yet, here I am.”

  He places his hands on the walker, trying to push himself to standing. I place my hand under his arm, lifting him carefully. Once he’s standing, he turns to me with a scowl. “I told you I can do this myself. Now get on outta here.”

  “Pops! Don’t talk to Abbi like that. She’s only here to help you.” Jase strides across the room with large steps, standing at the other side of the walker. “I don’t need her here. She ain’t got no business seeing my willy while I go to the bathroom.” I cover my mouth with my hand to hide my smirk as Jase shakes his head. Mr. Russell looks up to him with an angry scowl. “What are you waitin fer? Help me to the bathroom!”

  I step over to his side, starting to slip my arm under his, but Jase shaking his head catches my attention. As I remove my arm, I take a step back, mouthing to him behind his grandfather’s back. “You ok?” He gives me a once nod as he helps the man shuffle toward the bathroom. I stand in the bedroom, waiting for the bathroom door to open to assist him back into bed.

  As the bathroom door opens, I watch as they slowly make their way toward the bed. As Mr. Russell sits on the edge of the bed, I step toward him, helping him lift his legs into the bed and situating the pillows behind him. “I need to take a look at your incision.” I turn to walk toward the bathroom to wash my hands. “No, you don’t. You’re fired.” I turn back to him, placing a hand on my hip as I give him a glare. I’ve worked with many patients just like him, and I know exactly how to go about this.

  “I’ve never been fired by a patient, and I don’t intend for my first time to be today.” I drop my hand and walk toward him, folding my arms over my chest and matching his scowl. “Here’s how this is going to work. You let me do my job. Help you recover over the next twelve weeks and I’m out of your hair. You never have to see me again and you go back to your usual activities.” He opens his mouth to argue and I quickly talk over him.

  “Or,
you fire me, end up taking twice as long to recover because you stubbornly do it on your own.” I raise an eyebrow at him, noticing Jase is smirking from the other side of the bed. Mr. Russell lets out a huff, mumbling about strong willed women and how they’ll be the death of him as I turn for the bathroom. I quickly wash my hands before walking back to the side of the bed.

  I grab two gloves from the box on the bedside table and pull them on before flipping the sheet of the bed up just enough to redress and inspect the incision sight. I look up to Mr. Russell with a slight scowl as I gently pull the surgical tape back and survey his wound. “You’ve popped a stitch trying to get around all on your own.”

  He grumbles as I make quick work changing his dressing. I pull the sheet back to rest over his leg and grab a pillow from the chair across the room, sliding it onto the end of the bed and ever so gently lifting his feet onto it. “You’ve got a bit of swelling in your legs. We’re going to try elevating for a bit and if that doesn’t work, we’ll get an ice pack.”

  He makes no motion to acknowledge me, simply grabs the TV remote and turns the volume of the political talk station as high as it will go. I rip my gloves off, tossing them in the waste bin as I walk out of his room. “Hey.” I turn in the narrow hallway as Jase steps up to me. “I’m really glad you’ll be helping with Pops. He’s a tough old man, but after seeing you in there with him, I think you’re the only person for this job.”

  I give him a small smile as I turn my back to him, walking toward the kitchen. Agnus glances at us over her shoulder. “Perfect timing. Lunch is ready.” I wait patiently as she makes a plate of delicious smelling food for me to take to Mr. Russell. I place the plate and glass of sweet tea on the tray and carry it to him, situating it over him on the bed.

 

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