Falling for the Ghost of You(21)

"Yeah? Sounds interesting. I’d love to hear about it," he says, his dark eyes shining with interest.

"I'm not sure you want to. It involves a wooden puppet, body cavity searches, and a--um--butt load of cocaine."

"You're right, I think I'll pass," he says with a laugh. "Besides, I think I heard versions of this story one time too many."

I smile at him. I can't help it—he's just so, so cute!

Suddenly, I can't think of anything to say. I stand there with my arms crossed, shifting my weight from foot to foot. I hope he doesn't think I have to pee.

After a minute of total silence, we speak at the same time.

"I guess I'd better—"

"Maybe one day you—"

We both start laughing. "What were you going to say?" I ask him shyly.

But he just shakes his head. " Nothing important. You'd better get some rest, huh? Goodnight, Violet."

I watch as he stretches slowly, the hem of his shirt lifting up slightly to reveal his flat stomach. My mouth goes dry. All I can manage is a stiff nod before he goes to his room.

I suck! When he's gone, I let my head fall onto the counter with a thud.

Ow. I'm pretty sure I just gave myself a concussion.

Oh, Violet, you are a prize.











Chapter 9



The next morning, I wake up feeling hung over. Not that I know what that feels like, since I don't drink. Or smoke, or do drugs. I'm a good little virgin, all right.

I wish I could take a quick shower to wake up, but Zane's home, so there's no way I'm going in his room.

I settle for splashing my face with cold water. I move like a zombie as I dress in my blue work scrubs and wind my long hair into a tight bun. On the way out, I grab a sports drink from the fridge, hoping it will give me some much needed energy.

It's still dark out, which makes me feel vaguely depressed that I'm not lying snug in my bed. Yawning, I climb into the car and start the fifteen minute drive to work.

Sunset Park is a grand two story white clapboard building, surrounded by trees and colorful flowers. As far as facilities go, you could do worse. At least they make an effort to make it a cheerful and classy environment.

I park in the back, in the employee section. I'm happy to go through those glass doors again—I just hope not too much has changed since I was last here.

I run into Liz while I'm clocking in. She greets me with a hug, and immediately starts filling me in. Both the Freemans have passed, within a week of each other. That is sad, but not surprising—and I’m glad they went around the same time. I learn Ginnie had a stroke, which I'm shocked to hear. Ginnie was in better shape than me—she went swimming at the Y every day.

"We got two new people downstairs, but they're pretty self-sufficient," Liz is saying. "Oh, and Helize was asking yesterday when is her 'flower' coming back."

"Aww," I say. "How is she?"

"The same," she replies, pulling her dark hair back into a ponytail. "But Irma broke her right hip a month ago, so now she's a full assist."

"Poor Irma."

We head over to the office for a meeting. Everyone there welcomes me back with hugs and questions about my vacation in Hawaii. But was it really a vacation if you're working full-time in a bakery? According to the others, as long as you're in Hawaii, you're on vacation.

I look through the communication log for updates on my residents while we have our meeting. After it's over, I grab my walkie and pager and head for the storage room to get a box of tissues. Helize always needs tissues, and she's the first one on my list.

She’s already awake, lying in her bed.

"Rise and shine, woman," I announce, flipping on the lights.

Her clear blue eyes blink up at me. "Is that my flower I hear?"

"Your one and only." I turn off her oxygen concentrator on my way to her bed. "Good morning, beautiful."

Helize frowns at me, causing her delicate skin to bunch around her mouth and eyes. "I was just lying here, trying to think of your name. Lily, was it?"

"Close. Lily is my mother's name. I'm Violet."

"Ah, that's it."

I help her pull back the covers and begin the long process of helping her sit up. Then we work at untangling the nasal canula from her fine white hair. Meanwhile, I tell her all about my summer in Hawaii, and my mother's surprise engagement.

"And what have you been up to?" I ask her as I push her wheelchair over.

"Oh, the same. Not much changes around here." She sighs tiredly and reaches for a crumpled tissue stuffed in the sleeve of her nightgown.

"No wild parties? Dancing on tables?"

Helize cackles. "Oh, my table-dancing days are long over. Have I ever told you about that time in Nogales when the federales thought I was a prostitute?"