Switchy

  Barring incidents like this, he enjoyed what he did.

  Before he headed home today, he planned to stop by the store, buy cleaning supplies, and drop them off at the house. Today he’d remembered to bring a notepad and a tape measure with him. He needed to get the measurements of the fridge. They might as well replace the stove, too, since it was as old as the house.

  Then again, if they were replacing the whole kitchen, they could pick a new fridge first, whatever model they wanted, and make sure the cabinets fit around it.

  Sure, visions of an IKEA trip dancing in his head weren’t a bad thing. He was already envisioning upper cabinets with glass doors, maybe. Something light that would make the kitchen feel bigger. Right now, it had dark brown cabinets that looked like builder-grade blah with mottled grey counter tops.

  Garrison was handling getting the Dumpster. They’d have it for as long as a month, which was more than enough time for them to get the fridge, carpet, and kitchen cabinets ripped out, as well as empty the house.

  So much to do.

  So much wonderfully hard, back-breaking work to throw himself into.

  He tried not to think about the cute house the three of them had found in downtown Sarasota, just a few blocks from the Selby Gardens. The house Janis had seen on her way home from work one day and had fallen in love with.

  The house they’d planned to buy when Janis received the devastating news they hadn’t been expecting.

  Those plans had all gone out the window, every spare penny they had going toward copays and medicine and then…

  Jarred pinched the inside of his left arm, hard, just above his elbow. It was a technique that always helped ground him, helped bring him back to the present.

  Helped stop him from crying.

  I need to ask Garrison for a scene.

  They hadn’t played in a few weeks, both of them busy or tired, and then now all of this, with his uncle’s death and inheriting the house on top of it.

  But a house.

  Their house.

  Maybe it was also time to revisit their unfinished conversation about their personal future. About fulfilling one of Janis’ last wishes for them. Maybe now he could get Garrison to finally agree.

  About the two of them getting married.

  He headed back out to the floor to take care of his patients and put his personal life on hold for the time being.

  * * * *

  “Inconclusive.”

  Em rubbed at the bridge of her nose with her free hand. “What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means he’s having his nurse schedule everything and get the orders drawn up for a thorough round of testing,” her father said. “She’s overdue for a lot of routine tests anyway, so we’re throwing that into the mix.”

  “How insufferable is she being over that?”

  Her father chuckled. “Not nearly as bad as I thought she’d be. I think she thought she was going to get out of there crowing how wrong you and I were, and the doctor sort of stuck a pin in that balloon. He told her that what we were relating certainly could be early warning symptoms, but they needed to test her first. Some common medical conditions can cause behavioral problems as well.”

  Em leaned back in her office chair. “How long will this all take?”

  “It’ll happen over the next couple of weeks. Between you and me, she’s acted pretty subdued today.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “She went out grocery shopping after we got home. Said she’s going to cook dinner.”

  “Really? Well, that’s a step in the right direction.” When her mom cooked, it was practically a gourmet feast. She was a fantastic cook.

  And it was also something she’d done less and less of over the past couple of years.

  “I’ll make sure I’m home early then,” Em said. “I’ll try to keep her in a good mood by not missing dinner.”

  “I appreciate it. Oh, and be prepared. She’s complaining because our new neighbors had a big construction Dumpster dropped off today.”

  “Oh, boy. She needs to suck it up.”

  “I know. That’s what I told her.”

  “Any sign of the guys?”

  “No. It was there when we got home.”

  “Ah. Okay.” She finally got off the phone with him and was about to get back to work when Mitchell knocked on her doorway.

  “Well?” he asked.

  She filled him in. “The good news is,” he said, “your dad’s on your side. The bad news is, you don’t have any answers yet.”

  “Yep.” She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. “I have a feeling this isn’t going to be as easy as getting a diagnosis or forcing a showdown.”

  “Probably not, sweetie.”

  That prophetic thought was confirmed less than an hour later when Em’s cell phone rang from her sister’s number.

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  “What is wrong with you? Threatening to throw Mom and Dad out in the street?”

  “What?”

  “Mom just left here in tears. I had to calm her down.”

  “Oh, you gotta be shitting me.”

  Before Amy could talk over her, Em unleashed on her, getting up to close her office door for privacy as she told her sister exactly what had been going on.

  She finished with, “And you can call Dad and ask him yourself, instead of calling me and chewing me a new asshole without having all the facts. You and Don are the ones who ganged up on me with Mom, so don’t you dare try to throw some bullshit guilt trip on me. Because I am not going to fall for it.”

  Amy had gone silent. “Oh,” she quietly said.

  “Yeah, oh. So how’s your social life, huh? Getting laid by your hubby on a regular basis? Because I can barely close the bathroom door to take a dump in peace, much less take a damn business call at home, without Mom wanting to know everything I’m doing.”

  “Em, I’m sor—”

  “We are well past the ‘I’m sorry’ phase of this whole issue. Either you and Don start working with me and Dad, or one of you is going to find a damn moving truck backing up in your driveway and unloading all their stuff in your garage.”

  Em angrily punched the end button and fought the urge to throw her cell phone against the wall.

  Instead, she immediately called her father and updated him.

  Silence met her outrage. “Dad? You there?”

  “Yeah.” His quiet resignation worried her even more. “Sorry.”

  “So, you going to have my back with Amy and Don on this, or am I going to be strong-armed into playing the bad guy?”

  “I’ll call Amy and—oh, she’s calling me.” Another heavy sigh. “I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks.” She punched end and set the phone down on her desk. Then she jumped at the knock on her door.

  Mitchell stuck his head inside. “Do I need to alibi you? Just checking, because it’ll take me and Brent a couple of days to work one up for you.”

  Mitchell always had the perfect snarky quip to make her laugh. “Sorry. Does the whole building know?”

  He slipped inside and shut the door behind him. “I think it’s safe to say all of Sarasota County east of I-75 now knows.”

  She groaned.

  “You need to get out of here and go home and handle this. I can’t afford for you to go to jail. I don’t think they’ll let you work with a laptop and Internet there.” He smiled.

  “Don’t you and Brent want kids? You guys could adopt me. I’m already housebroken and everything.”

  “Don’t tempt me too much there, kitten. I just might take you up on that. Seriously, though. Go home and talk to your dad and get this hashed out. She’s obviously not firing on all cylinders somewhere if she thought this stunt would work.”

  “Yeah.”

  Twenty minutes later, Em was heading home and stewing over her responses. She was wondering how long it’d take her to pack her stuff and move out, even though she knew that wouldn’t be the b
est answer and might not even solve any of her current problems, all while creating a bunch of new ones in the process.

  Her mom’s car wasn’t there when Em pulled into her usual parking space in the driveway. When she walked in, her dad was sitting at the dining room table with his cell phone in front of him. He was rubbing his temples like he was working on the same headache threatening to overtake her.

  “Is it too early to start drinking?” she only half-joked.

  “I’m considering it. I already called Don and warned him. And yes, I straightened Amy out. She said she’ll be apologizing to you as soon as she pries her foot out of her mouth.” He finally realized she was home way ahead of schedule. “Why are you home from work so early?”

  She held out a hand, indicating his phone.

  “Ah.”

  “Ah, exactly.” She headed to her bedroom to dump her stuff on the bed and change into shorts and a T-shirt. “Me moving out is looking like a great option to me now,” she said when she rejoined him.

  “Only if you take me with you.” He looked up at her.

  Sliding into a chair across from him, she said, “This can’t be ‘nothing.’”

  “I know.”

  “I mean, what the hell?”

  “Well, we’re going to find out. Amy and Don will be over at six.”

  They were still sitting there, talking, when her mom arrived a few minutes later. She wore a happy, beaming smile that Em knew meant one thing—she thought she had the upper hand.

  “There’s several more loads in the car, if anyone wants to help me by unloading them.” Her mom headed straight for the kitchen.

  “So did you stop for groceries before or after you talked to Amy?” Em shot after her.

  Her mom froze, finally putting the bags on the counter before she turned. “I just stopped by to say hi. She hasn’t been by the house in a while, and—”

  “Knock it off, Francis.” Her father stood and walked over to her. “Amy called Em at work and started chewing her out for threatening to ‘kick us out.’ And you know damn well that’s not what’s going on.”

  “Why is everyone turning on me like this?”

  “Nobody is turning on you. You’re doing a fine job of turning us all against you, though. This is the last straw. Regardless of what the doctor says, you and I are going to find a place and move out.”

  Her eyes widened, shocked. “You don’t mean that! But we’ll never see any of the kids again!”

  “Of course we will. Don’t be ridiculous. At the rate you’re going, we’ll be lucky if the kids even want to talk to us, much less see us. I’m not going to have you destroying our relationship with our children because of whatever issues you’ve got going on.”

  “We shouldn’t be living alone at our age.”

  “Why not? Frankly? I’d love for us to have our own place again. I miss being able to walk around butt-naked if I want to! We’re both healthy and capable of living on our own.”

  “Uh, okay. On that note, I’m going to go get the groceries.” Em bolted for the front door.

  The last thing she wanted to do was contemplate her father’s bare ass.

  Chapter Five

  It was after seven when Jarred reached the house. He had parked alongside the driveway, on the practically non-existent grass, since the Dumpster took up the whole driveway.

  Not like it’s going to hurt it any. The lawn wasn’t exactly a priority for him. Once they were moved in, then he could decide what to do about the outside of the house.

  It took him several trips to fully unload all the cleaning supplies from his car and deposit them in the kitchen. He noticed it looked like there were two extra cars parked next door from what they’d seen yesterday, and wondered if Em had company.

  The first thing Jarred did inside was to securely seal the fridge with duct tape, ensuring no one could open it. Then he set about opening all the windows, even with the AC running, to at least give the place a chance to air out. He also set out five air fresheners containers he’d bought. “Clean Linen” might still have a funky undertone, but hopefully it would help.

  As he turned around and studied their new home, he could see the potential there, for them to have a personalized space that truly reflected them without being restricted by apartment rules.

  She would have liked it here.

  Taking a deep breath to choke back those thoughts, he set about clearing out the kitchen, removing all the food from the cabinets and filling several large contractor bags, toting them out to the Dumpster. Fortunately, the back end of it swung open, so when it came time to remove the fridge, stove, couch, and beds, they wouldn’t have to kill themselves heaving the heavy items over the top of it. Garrison was going to borrow an appliance dolly from Tracy’s work either tonight or tomorrow, and help him get the fridge and stove out.

  Then he wiped down all the cabinets, counter tops, and swept and mopped the kitchen floor. He would worry about emptying out the dishes and stuff from the cabinets and drawers later, when he felt like sorting through everything and had boxes to store the items in. There might be some things they’d keep, but they had their own dishes and cookware, so most of it would probably go.

  It was a start.

  Then he went to work on the guest bathroom, clearing out old products from under the counter and cleaning and scrubbing.

  He’d also made sure to purchase a couple of packages of toilet paper so they wouldn’t run out.

  I’d like a cold beer.

  But that would require beer.

  And a working fridge.

  And not having to drive home from there after consuming it.

  Instead, he walked out to the back porch and sat in a plastic chair there, carefully testing its stability before lowering all his weight onto it.

  It held.

  They had one oak tree in the back of the yard that provided some shade. He could envision herb plants along the fences, maybe a butterfly garden. Hell, he’d always wanted a koi pond. With the back yard already fenced, maybe he could make one and not worry about raccoons sneaking in and killing the fish.

  “Hello?”

  He looked over his shoulder at the sound of the woman’s voice. “Back here. Through the kitchen.” As the woman came into sight, he realized it was Em from next door. “Oh, hey.”

  “Hi. Hope I’m not intruding.”

  “No, not at all. I was just relaxing. Pull up a chair.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Looks like you have company over there.”

  “Just my brother and sister.”

  She sat and it gave him a chance to study her profile. Today she had her auburn hair pulled back with an elastic band, low on her neck, her ponytail falling just below her shoulders.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  She let out a bone-weary sigh. “Just a continuation of…stuff.”

  “Is your mom going to try to get me arrested again?” he teased.

  That evoked a smile. “Hopefully not. Why, do you have a thing for handcuffs?”

  His smile widened. “Sometimes. Depends on who’s doing the cuffing.”

  She blushed a little at that comment and she looked so adorable it nearly broke his heart.

  “If you want to talk about it,” he finally said, “I’m happy to listen.”

  “My brother and sister are over there right now, backing my dad up that it’s time our mom listens to us. Doctor’s going to schedule the necessary testing to see if she has any issues, but no answers yet. Nothing definitive. Dad’s also laid down the law to her that they’re moving out.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “Yeah, but I feel shitty about it.” She finally locked gazes with him, and his heart skipped a beat over her blue eyes.

  Like this, with her hair pulled back and looking so vulnerable, she reminded him so much of—

  “Don’t feel like that,” he said. “I know it’s easier said than done, but it sounds like if your dad’s on your side and your si
blings are coming around, that it’s not your fault.”

  “Is it so wrong to want peace? To not have every day feel like there’s a fight or a struggle in store? It’s like if things are going too well around the house, Mom deliberately does something to stir up trouble.”

  “Some people do. Did you consider she might have an issue, but it might be psychological and not strictly physiological?”

  “Not yet. We’re still in the early stages.”

  “There are all sorts of personality disorders. For all you know, maybe that’s what this is, and it’s always been there but manifesting in different ways now.”

  “You sound like you have experience.”

  “Some. Not an expert. I’m a CNA, but I took some psych classes in college. Wouldn’t hurt to get a mental health expert on board if the doctor doesn’t find anything.”

  “Thanks.” She let out a long, sad sigh. “It feels very peaceful here. My house used to feel like that. I can’t remember the last time I just sat out on my lanai and stared at the bird feeder.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because once they moved in, any time I went out there, Mom always followed me and started talking. Then when she was ready to go inside, which was usually in a few minutes, if I didn’t go, too, she would keep hounding me until I did. Even if I was sitting out there and trying to work. She’d pop her head out the door and ask how much longer I was going to be out there.”

  He turned in his chair to look at her. “Honestly? I’d start looking into the mental health aspects of it sooner rather than later. Has she always been like this?”

  “To a certain extent. But when we were kids she volunteered at school with us, and then she had other stuff she did when we all left home. Friends and hobbies. Once Dad retired about ten years ago, she seemed to lose interest in other things. Then once they moved in with me, she…”

  “Focused on her single child?”

  “Yeah. I guess I shouldn’t complain like this, because she’s alive for me to gripe about. I don’t want to sound ungrateful or anything, because I do love her. I’m just worn out.”