Alec by Margaret McHeyzer
Driving out to May’s, I can’t help but think about what Alec said. I know he wasn’t aware of how both my parents had died. I know that, and I know in my heart he didn’t mean to be such a jerk about it. He tried to apologize, but he’s been a rightful dick from the moment I met him.
What’s his problem? Actually, what’s his problem with me?
I pull up at May’s and sit in my car for a moment. I have a list of clients I have to get to today, and I can’t do that if I’m not focused. Luckily, the next three clients are back at the hospital, so I don’t need to make any more house calls today.
I take my bag and my portable table out of the car, and head up the steps to knock on May’s door. “May, it’s Serena!”
“You waiting for an invitation?” she calls out, making me smile.
What I love about May is that what you see is what you get with her. There are no hidden agendas, no maliciousness. She’s just May. Opening the door, I head down the short hallway, past the kitchen and find her sitting in the family room watching wrestling. “Never took you for a wrestling fan.” I start setting the table up.
“Who isn’t?” she asks. “Move, you’re in my way.” She flicks her hand for me to shift. “Yes! Smash him, smash him, smash him!” she yells at the TV, gesticulating widely. Shaking my head, I reach over and take the remote, turning the TV off. “Are you kidding me right now?” she asks in a shrill voice.
“Come on, up you get.”
May narrows her eyes at me, but pushes up from the sofa, and with a slight struggle, gets up on the table. For a seventy-year-old woman, she’s still fairly sprightly, though the stroke she had has slightly mellowed her. “What’s wrong with you today, Serena?”
“Nothing, why?” Except for Alec. He bothers me. I don’t know if I should go back there, but I desperately need the money. Jordan doesn’t have health insurance, so it all falls to me. Which means I need to come up with the thirty-five thousand for his treatment.
She lays on her stomach, and I work on her lower back. I can feel the knots around her sciatic nerve, and when I start working it, she flinches. “Hey, you’re a bit heavy handed today.”
“I’m sorry,” I say as I try to lighten my touch. But Alec’s words about Mom play over and over in my head. “He’s so inconsiderate,” I mumble to myself.
“Who’s inconsiderate?” May asks.
“No one.” I keep working on her lower back.
“What’s this no one done?”
“Nothing.”
She cranes her neck and looks at me. “Right. You’d better talk to me, because whatever is eating at you is bothering you enough to have you hurting me.”
I step back and sigh. “I’m sorry, May. I’m...I’m, you know, I’m sorry.” I don’t really want to talk about all the pressures that are suffocating me. I’m here to help May, not the other way around.
“Who is he?” she finally asks after I restart on her lower back. “And don’t think you saying ‘no one’ will make me stop asking you questions. You may as well make this easy on yourself, and tell me. Either way, I’ll find out.”
I smirk, because even though I’ve been coming out here for about eight or nine months, I also know May is incredibly respected in the community, and if she wants to find out something, all she needs to do is ask. She’s like Hope River’s very own confessor. Everyone tells her everything. But funny enough, she never speaks about anyone else’s business. A confessor who’s also a vault. “I’ve just got some personal things happening,” I reply.
“Personal as in with your partner?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“A girlfriend then? I’m very open-minded. Had my fair share of fun when I was younger, so no judgement from me.”
My eyes widen with her declaration, but hey, good for her. “No, not into women. I haven’t tried, but I don’t find women sexually attractive.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. We are who we are. Tell me about this boy causing you troubles.”
“He’s a client.” I shrug, not really wanting to tell her, because I don’t want to breach his privacy.
“That’s a start. Do you like him?”
“No!” I reply with too much force.
“Then what’s the problem?”
I’m not entirely sure what it is either. “He gets under my skin, and he’s a jerk.” May chuckles. “He said something that I’m struggling with.”
“If he’s a jerk, he’ll always say something you’ll struggle with.”
“Doesn’t help that we’ve kissed.”
May tenses beneath my touch, and waves her hand for me to stop. “Oh no. Nope, we’re not doing this while you’re working on relaxing my lower back. Coffee time. Come on.” She pulls her t-shirt down and hoists herself to sit up.
“I haven’t finished, May. You should lay here for at least another twenty minutes.”
“No, no, no, no.” She waves her skinny finger at me. “We’re talking about what happened, because something else is going on here.”
“Please let me finish.” God, I need the money and if I don’t do this, then I’ll have to try and pick up another shift at The Narrow Table.
Nimbly, she gets off the table and walks toward the kitchen. She’s still got it together for an old chick. “Consider this May’s Intervention. Hurry up, get out here. We don’t have a lot of time before you have to leave.”
I’ll have to see if I can pick up a shift for Sunday night at the restaurant. I’ll ask the manager tomorrow night when I go into work. I pack my folding table up then follow the aroma of one of the amazing coffees May makes. I sit at the kitchen counter, and watch as May flutters easily around the kitchen making our coffees. “Do you actually need me? Because even with that cane, you move around quite well. You could save yourself a lot of money by not seeing me anymore.”
She places her hand to her chest and gasps. “I’m shocked you think I could get by without you.” She carefully hands me a mug with coffee, then she brings hers over and sits beside me. “Tell me about this kiss.”
“It was nothing.” I shrug.
“If it was nothing, then you shouldn’t have a problem telling me about it.” May’s gray hair is loosely pulled back in an old-fashioned bun on top of her head. Her inquisitive eyes stare at me, waiting for my reply. May might be seventy, but she doesn’t dress like a woman her age. She often wears jeans, and brightly colored t-shirts. She’s the perfect mixture of modern and sophisticated. But boy-oh-boy, she’s one hell of an observant woman. “Well, what happened?” She picks her mug up and takes a sip.
“Honestly, I don’t know. From the moment I met him, I felt something. But I didn’t know what it was. He was angry at me being there, and I don’t take too kindly to working with people who don’t appreciate me. So, I told him he was acting like an entitled ass. We seemed to butt heads from the moment we met. He’d say something and I couldn’t control myself. I’d come back with a harsh comment” I chuckle. “I still can’t control myself. I give as good as I get.”
“Well done.” May claps her hands once. “But how did you end up kissing?”
“He was being a dick. I poked him in the shoulder, told him to snap out of it. The next thing I knew, he had his hand around my wrist, and...” I slowly shrug. “I don’t know how, but we ended up kissing.”
“You don’t know how?” May rolls her eyes. “Pffft. When two people like each other,” she starts.
“But we don’t like each other.”
“Oh, goody!” She claps her hands together. “An enemies-to-lovers kind of romance. Oh, this is going to be fun!”
“We’re not ever going to be lovers, so you can stop clapping now.” I sip on my coffee.
“Did you kiss today? Is that what’s put you in an interesting mood?”
Interesting? “No, it was last Saturday. It was dumb, and it shouldn’t have happened. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, it won’t happen again.”
“Obviously, there’s something there if you kissed.” Her mood has become less joyful, and more serious as she drinks her coffee and waits for my reply.
“For a moment I lost my head. I was caught up in a dream of something that could never be.” A smile strains to stretch my lips.
“So, you do like him, then? Because now I’m confused.”
“Being with someone isn’t in the cards for me, May.”
“Let me ask you this. When was the last time you had sex?”
My face instantly reddens. “Jesus, that’s pretty personal.” My hands tremble as I lift my mug to take another sip of coffee.
“Okay, I’ll go first. I got my dirty on very recently. Why do you think my lower back has been hurting me? I’m not the pretzel I used to be. It’s more missionary, reverse cowgirl, me on top, you know. I can’t be sticking my leg up over my head anymore, or I’ll break a hip. Then I’d really need you.” What a conversation to be having. And what an image to get in my head. “I’ve shared, now it’s your turn.” She taps her fingers on the counter, waiting.
“It’s been a long time, May. Long, long time. I’ve got other priorities right now.”
“How old are you?” she asks.
“Twenty-seven.”
“Twenty-seven and you’re not having sex at least six times a day?” A day? She blows out her breath and shakes her head. “Girl, you’re missing out. Now look, if you don’t want a serious boyfriend, you at least have to do yourself a favor and taste what’s on the menu. You have no idea the immense stress relief you’ll feel once you’ve reached orgasm. All the worries in the world disappear, even if it’s only for a few moments. You deserve it, Serena.”
“What you’ve described is only achievable for people who have only one job and a stable life.” I stand, pick up my mug and finish off my coffee. “And I don’t have any of that. For now, it’s all about working, and keeping my brother al...” Crap, I’ve said too much. “Thanks for the coffee, May. I’ve gotta head back to the hospital because I’ve got more clients.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother. What’s going on with him?”
I lift my foldable table and my bag and start walking toward the front door. “I’ve gotta go. This time next week, right?”
“You know it. But, if you ever want to drop around for a coffee, then you’re more than welcome,” she says as I walk across the porch and down the front steps.
I hope May doesn’t bring this up again. I don’t want to talk about Jordan and his addiction with anyone.
Rushing home, I have forty-five minutes to get changed and head back out to Willow Heights. The Bishops have asked me to clean their house once a week instead of once every two weeks. Thankfully, they’re incredibly accommodating and know I have two other jobs, so they allow me to come in late because they don’t get in from work until late themselves. When I pull up at home, the guys down the road are outside, and watch as I park my car and walk into my home. I can feel their eyes glued on me as I walk to my front door, unlock it, and get inside. They give me bad vibes. I don’t know what it is about them, but something doesn’t sit right in my stomach.
“Jordan?” I call, although I can tell by the darkness he’s not home. I unlock my bedroom door, and look around, making sure nothing’s been disturbed. I check the window, and it’s still locked, although he wouldn’t be able to get in here because there are bars on every window in this house. Looking at my phone, I know I’m already late. Problem is, I’m going to be home late, and I need to be up early tomorrow to get to the hospital for my appointments. “You’re doing this for Jordan,” I say to myself over and over again.
I change in record time and make sure to lock my room, and double-check it as I leave. My eye catches the mail I brought in, and I quickly go through them in case something of importance is in there. A letter with the property management company’s logo catches my eye. I rip it open, and begin to read the letter.
I stumble backward until my knees find the sofa, and I collapse on it. “What?” I say as I rub my fingers across my forehead. All the air leaves my body as I burst into tears. I didn’t move here because I liked it, I moved here because it was cheap and I could save more to send Jordan to a rehab center. I don’t know what to do. I can’t come up with the remainder of the money for the rehab center in three weeks, it’s impossible. And now I have to find somewhere else to live which is sure to cost a lot more than what I’m paying here. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, and try to push that out of my mind for now. I need to get over to the Bishop’s house and clean it.
I’m not sure I can deal with anything else. I’m already struggling to breathe with everything on top of me. I need a break.
