On the Other Side(24)

“Is your wife able to walk on her own?”

“She has a broken rib, so she’s moving a little slow, but she can walk on her own.”

“Mr. Westman, will I be able to reach you in case of an emergency?”

“I will have a very limited ability to communicate. I will call you and check in when I can. And, Florence, I don’t want my wife disturbed. She is to spend the time resting. That means no work calls, no girlfriends and no mother.”

The nurse’s face had a look of confusion. “Mr. Westman, I believe there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not security. I’m a nurse. My duty is to care for your wife’s medical and physical needs.”

Neal handed Florence a fist full of cash.

“I’ll see to it that your wife is not disturbed while you’re away,” Florence quickly responded.

With all the talk people engaged in about racism, Neal was always aware of the fact that green was the most powerful color in America.

Damita strained her ears to listen and was surprised to find that a trait she used to find so impressive, now seemed weak and unflattering. Neal had been born into money. His father’s architectural firm was world-renowned and boasted some of the most influential clients in the country. When his parents died, everything was left to Neal. His money and reputation opened doors many people only dreamed of. They got the best tables at restaurants. If there was ever a need for any kind of assistance, Neal knew the person to talk to in order to get it done. When they were dating, Damita had to admit that she was impressed by his power. Now, however, she realized that money could buy you a lot of things, but it couldn’t buy anyone a soul.

Neal brought Florence into the bedroom to introduce her to Damita.

“Damita, this is Florence. She’s going to be taking care of you for a while.”

“Hello, Florence,” Damita said.

“Hi, Damita. Is there anything you need?”

“Oh no, I’m fine right now. Why don’t you get settled. You can put your things in the guest bedroom.”

“No worries, Mrs. Westman. Your husband already showed me where I could put my things. Right now I’m at your disposal. What can I help you with? Mr. Westman mentioned that you might want to take a shower.”

Damita glanced over at Neal, trying to conceal her annoyance. In everything he did there was that ever-present element of control.

Florence didn’t miss the look on Damita’s face. She had worked in enough homes and dealt with enough families to know when there were untold secrets afoot.

“No rush. I understand you have a broken rib. That can be very painful. Whenever you’re ready to take a shower or even a sponge bath, I’m here to provide whatever assistance you need.”

Damita didn’t want to like Florence because she was hired by Neal but she didn’t miss her intervention at that moment and it helped her to like the woman a bit more.

“In the meantime, are you hungry or would you like something to drink?”

“You don’t have to cook for me.”

“One of the nice things about private duty is we can make it up as we go along. I don’t mind cooking, if you don’t.”

Damita laughed and frowned simultaneously, thanks to her rib pain. “No complaints here. I’m not exactly a wiz around the kitchen,” Damita added.

“I can attest to that,” Neal offered.

Damita looked at Neal as if he had just entered the room, wondering when he would be leaving. “What time is your appointment?” she asked.

“I should probably leave now.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Westman. I will take very good care of your wife.”

“I’m not worried at all.”

Florence watched as Neal walked over to the bed and kissed Damita goodbye. The woman’s response to her husband’s touch spoke volumes. If she didn’t know it before, Florence was relatively sure how Mrs. Westman’s rib came to be broken. She was suddenly sorry she had taken the extra money to help limit the woman’s contact with the outside world.

“I’ll call you as soon as I can,” Neal said as he was leaving.

Damita suddenly looked relieved. “Okay,” was her only response.

Florence noticed that the moment Neal Westman walked out the door there was a noticeable shift in the energy in the apartment.

“So what’s it going to be, Mrs. Westman? Would you like food and drink first or a shower?”

Damita laughed and waved her hand in front of her nose. “Definitely a shower first,” she said.

Damita didn’t realize how incapacitated she was until Florence helped her out of the bed so she could take a shower. However, after a day or so, the more she moved around, the easier it got. She believed she was finally ready to talk to Carmella and her mother. She decided she would call Carmella first. Although Florence was taking a break and having a cup of tea in the kitchen, Damita picked up her cell phone and shut the bedroom door, fully aware that the nurse could be spying on her at Neal’s request.