Page 34 of The Foul Out

“Duty calls.” I stood and clicked my radio to my belt, popped in the earpiece, and pressed the button to reply. “I’ll check her room.”

“This conversation isn’t done,” Carolyn assured as I breezed past her.

With a roll of my eyes, I waved over my shoulder and headed out.

In no time, I was approaching Eleanor Sparrow’s room on the fifth floor.

“Ms. Sparrow.” I rapped on the door. When she didn’t answer, I pulled out my card and unlocked it. “Eleanor,” I called as I stepped into the tidy space.

“In here, dear,” she said from the bathroom.

I opened the door and peeked in tentatively. Inside, she was awkwardly sitting on the seat in her shower with a towel draped over her body.

“What happened?” I asked. I’d known the woman for years, since she had been friends with my late grandmother.

When I turned eighteen, my grandmother had moved from the apartment we, along with my mother, shared and into Boston Lights. In order to spend more time with her, andbecause I could use the money, I’d taken a job as an assistant in the office here.

After my mother passed away a year later, Boston Lights became more than just a job. I spent more time here than anywhere else, even through college. Over thirteen years, I worked my way from assistant to director. And even after my grandmother passed away two years ago, I didn’t want to leave.

Eleanor smiled. “Just a little dizzy, that’s all. Figured I’d best sit until it passed.”

“Why didn’t you hit your call button?” I glanced at her wrist, but the gray band was missing. Turning, I scanned the bathroom. “Where is it?”

“It’s in the bedroom.” Her tone was matter-of-fact.

“What?” The shower was one of the most dangerous places for the elderly. We always made it clear that they should wear the device at all times.

“I don’t put it on until after my shower in the morning.”

I blinked. “You shouldn’t take it off. You know it’s important to wear it at all times.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I could never sleep in that thing.” She waved me off. “And showering in it? Good lord, my wrist would chafe.”

I shook my head. Falling out of bed was almost as common as falling in the shower, and this woman wasn’t wearing her alert bracelet in either place.

“The rules?—”

“You and the rules.” She chuckled. “Always so uptight.”

Irritation prickled through me. She was the second person who’d said that in the last couple of days. “My job is to make sure that you’re safe and that everything runs smoothly.”

“Just like Lucy.” She shook her head. “Your grandmother worried herself into indigestion every day.”

As if on cue, my esophagus burned. I knew that feeling. I lived on Tums. And coffee.

With one hand holding her towel in place, she patted my arm with the other. “I don’t need a button. I have the good sense the lord gave me. And when I’m dizzy, I sit down.”

I sighed. “The button is to help. It’s there just in case. For situations like this one.”

“If we’re always thinking about the ‘just in case,’ we miss the good things in life,” Eleanor said. “Lucy would want you to enjoy life sometimes, you know.”

Shoulders slumping, I sighed. “I do.”

“When was the last time you did something other than work or take care of your kids?” She raised a gray brow. “I haven’t heard a single story from you about anything outside of parenting in years. Remember when you’d visit Lucy? You’d bring some newfangled coffee flavor to try and tell her about your week.”

Yes. I did remember. That was back when I was twenty-one and fun. Back when I had stories to tell. About the ridiculous guy I’d met at a bar. Or the trip to California with my friends. Friends I drifted from after having Piper. Friends I drifted even farther from after separating from Jace almost two years ago. Now my friends consisted mostly of coworkers. And I only saw them at work.

That sounded a bit pathetic now that I thought about it.

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