Page 5 of Wall

Dr. Oldham already has a good man at home, but I don’t want to ruin Miss Janice’s fun. “He’s not my type.”

“That man is everyone’s type.”

“Not mine. He’s got a tragic flaw.”

“Which is?”

“Vegetarian.”

Miss Janice cracks up. “See? Poorly fed.” Her laugh devolves into a hacking cough.

I freshen up her plastic cup with water from the sink. I need to have a word with the CNA about keeping her hydrated. Janice sips like a bird; she shouldn’t be running out of water.

I keep up the conversation while she gets her cough under control. “Besides. I’m done with men. More trouble than they’re worth.”

She shakes her head. “You’re much too young to say that. What are you? Twenty-five? Twenty-six?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“See? Too young. There’s a fella out there made perfectly for you. You’ll see.”

The usual, horrible feelings burble up inside me, and I stand quickly and make a show of getting myself a drink of water. I’m okay ninety-nine percent of the time. But then someone says something—and out of nowhere—I’m in a Looney Tunes cartoon and a safe crashes on top of my head.

John Wall sure did a number on me.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I need to fix my face. I pinch my cheeks to get some color back. “I’m focusing on climbing the corporate ladder, you know that Miss Janice.”

“You’re much too sweet to be the big boss.”

“That may be, but someone has to look out for you all.”

It’s criminal how some facilities are run. Shady Acres is one of the good ones, but the condition of the patients we get from some other places? It’s a crying shame. Bed sores. Dehydration. You name it.

My ten-year plan is to get my RN and then my MBA. You can’t change much in the trenches; you can only work yourself to the bone, which most of my colleagues do. You can only fix things if you have the right letters after your name.

I didn’t used to have a fire lit under my butt. The year after John and I split near killed me, but one day, bawling in the shower, I just got sick of myself. I decided I needed to care about someone else for a while, and I took a good look around and realized I’m working with people who need me every day. And I could do more for them. So I dusted myself off, enrolled in a nursing program, and here I am.

I make my way back to the guest chair, grabbing two books on the way.

“You up to this?” I hold them up. “Sounds like you had a busy day. It was raining men.”

“Hallelujah.” Miss Janice snickers and holds her hand out. “Study group is in session. Now, where were we?”

I flip open the NCLEX-RN study guide and set it on her tray. It’s way too heavy to lay in her hand.

“Bleeded and impaired hemostasis.”

“Sounds interesting! Get my glasses.”

I gently pluck them from the string around her neck and slide them on her nose.

“Thank you, my dear.”

We spend the next fifteen minutes or so with Miss Janice quizzing me on the test to become a registered nurse. She was a lector at her church, so she has a lovely reading voice. When her voice starts cracking, I take the study guide and shelve it behind the collection of greeting cards from the folks in her congregation.

“You ready now?”

Miss Janice rests her head back, her eyelids beginning to droop. Reading takes a lot out of her. “Always. What are we on this evening?”

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