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Chapter 7

While coffee brewed the next morning, Karli made eggs and toast for herself and Axel. The old man was sitting up in bed, watching the History Channel, and he looked like he’d been awake for a while. “Couldn’t sleep?” she asked.

“Nah, didn’t finish the football game. Called it an early night, woke before the roosters crowed, and couldn’t go back to sleep.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “‘Bout time you got up and moving.”

She glanced out the window at the barn at the end of the driveway. “Do you have chickens?”

“Don’t be daft, girl. Not anymore. Used to, though. They crowed at first light.”

She was unimpressed. “You only got up half an hour ago then. First light doesn’t happen until after eight this late in November.”

He finished his eggs and swallowed his pills, then pushed his plate toward her. “Don’t you have something to do?”

“Lots of things. I’m making calls to see what I can line up for you today.”

“Knock yourself out.”

She took a napkin and swiped at the toast crumbs in his beard. “Consider your options, old man, while you still have them. Want me to help you to the bathroom to clean up?”

“I did that last night, didn’t I?”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself. I just thought it might feel good.”

He waved her away, too caught up in his TV show. She’d let him pass this time, but she’d try again later. If he didn’t use his legs, soon they wouldn’t hold him.

After she tidied up their dishes, she took the industrial broom she’d found at the back of the closet and swept the dining room floor. It was probably meant for the front porch, but it would save her time now. It got the top layer of dust, so that she could use the kitchen broom to remove the finer layer. She finished with the dust mop, and the floor was passable. She settled at the long, cherry table with its sixteen chairs. Two corner cupboards, one on each side of the front window, held cut glass vases and pitchers, fancy pieces that hadn’t been dusted since Axel’s mom died, she’d guess. She spread all of her papers and notes over the table’s surface. She could look into the living room across the hall. This house would be easy to entertain in. She wondered if Axel’s mom invited people over a lot.

She liked the downstairs layout. Off the entryway to the left was the parlor, behind it, the living room with the fireplace, and then the bathroom. To the right was the monstrous dining room and behind that, the kitchen. Two rooms jutted out the back: a mudroom on the left and the three-season room on the right. There was a basement, but she had no desire to go down there. If the main floor was this bad, what would it be like? She pictured spiders and mice scampering across crumbling cement.

It had taken longer to clean than she expected, so she called: “Hey, Axel, I’ll reheat some of the tamale casserole if you come out in the kitchen to eat with me.”

“Save it. Just bring me a carton of cottage cheese and some applesauce.”

“I know you can get those yourself.”

“Never mind. I’ll just eat some crackers.”

She sighed. Baby steps, she told herself. She’d get Axel moving and motivated one step at a time. She carried his cottage cheese and applesauce to him, then made herself a peanut butter sandwich. Once she ate that, she shook her head. Enough stalling. Time to get to work.

Karli checked her list and began making calls. She learned that a home nurse would come and check on Axel once a month, so she made an appointment for her to come to make her first assessment. She learned that Axel was eligible for Meals on Wheels at a slight fee, and after several more calls, that he could hire a housecleaning company to come once a month. When she finished marking appointments on Axel’s kitchen calendar, she went to tell him what she’d arranged.

The myriad of calls, trying to chase down the right people to talk to, had taken every bit as long as she’d dreaded, but at least, she’d accomplished something. She was happy with herself.

Axel shook his head. “I’m not doing it.”

“You don’t want meals delivered to your house?”

“I can live on cottage cheese, applesauce, and Ensure.”

“Why would you want to?”

“I’m not paying for food that has no taste.”

“Have you ever tried it?”

“No, but it’s for old people, right? They always make our food taste like mush. Figure we can’t chew and can’t have salt. I’m not doing it.”

She let out a frustrated sigh. “Okay, what if I pay for it for a week to see what they bring?”

“No skin off my back. It’s your money, but I won’t like it.”

She gave a nod. “It won’t start right away. They have to work you onto their delivery route.”

“A lot of bother for nothing. I’d rather heat mac ‘n cheese in the microwave.”

“I don’t see you doing much of that.” He only used his wheelchair when he absolutely had to, but that was going to change.

He waved her comment away. “Keagan makes it when he delivers my groceries once a week.”

She wasn’t going to win this argument. Maybe when the meals came to his door, he’d change his mind. Maybe. “Okay, what about the housecleaners? They’d only come once a month. They’d keep your house in decent shape.”

“I don’t give a shit what the place looks like.”

“You don’t need flies and mice. You have to keep it a little clean.”

He shook his head. “No mice have made a nest in my beard yet.”

“I don’t know why. It’s a freaking mess. When are you going to let me clean you up?”

“Not gonna happen. Keagan takes good care of me.”

“Do you ever wash your hair?”

“I wet it.”

She sighed. Every time she’d tried to clean him, he’d had a fit. In most nursing centers, the patients only got showered once a week, so she was probably fighting a losing battle. She shuffled the papers in her hand, aggravated. “Are you worried about money? Are you living in poverty or something?”

He snickered at her. “I have plenty stashed away, girlie, but don’t think you’re getting any of it.”

She gave him a level stare. “You can shove your money, as far as I’m concerned. I’m trying to help you. If you want to stay in this house, you need to get home care.”

He leaned forward. “I don’t have to do nothing. I was doing fine before you came, and I’ll do better after you take your scrawny ass out of here.”

She stood and stalked away. She wasn’t getting anywhere. She needed to find something to do to distract herself, or she’d be tempted to beat the old man’s head against the window. She glanced at the clock. Almost six. She went to the kitchen and reheated the chicken and fried potatoes that Ralph had sent. Maybe food would put Axel in a better mood. Hell, maybe it would make her feel better.

When she served it to Axel, he wolfed it down. She shook her head. “You love good food. If you really do have money, why not spend some to make your life nicer?”

His lips curled down in a sneer. “I’d rather leave everything in a mess and let all of you kids fight over it when I’m gone.”

“Dream on. I don’t need your money.”

He got a sly look. “I have twelve kids. When there’s money, there’s squabbles.”

“And you’ll be dead. A little late to enjoy the action. You’re an idiot. You go out of your way to drive people away, but you’re only hurting yourself.”

He chuckled. “You’re preaching to the devil, girl. Save your breath. A man has to have his dreams.”

She gathered his dirty plates. “Your dreams are too perverse to interest me.”

She rinsed his dishes, then carried her food to the dining room. She opened her laptop and watched an earlier episode of Dancing with the Stars while she ate. It was too early to call it a night. She was too restless, so she found a bucket, filled it with hot soapy water, and mopped. By the time she finished, the parlor, dining room, and kitchen floors were clean, and she was dragging.

“My teeth aren’t going to brush themselves!” Axel called.

She bit back the first thing that came to mind and went to help him into his wheelchair. He motioned for her to roll him into the kitchen, and he stared from it to the dining room.

“Mom always kept this place spotless. She made this house a home.”

“She must have loved it then.”

“She did.” His voice turned brusque. “Enough of that. I’m an old man. I need my rest. Let me clean up and get back in bed.”

She shook her head. His mellow mood had last more than a few seconds. She should celebrate.

After she got him settled, she went to the parlor, sagged onto her air mattress, and crashed hard.

Special Delivery

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