Chapters (38)
- one
- two
- three
- four
- five
- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
- fifteen
- sixteen
- seventeen
- eighteen
- nineteen
- twenty
- twenty-one
- twenty-two
- twenty-three
- twenty-four
- twenty-five
- twenty-six
- twenty-seven
- twenty-eight
- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
- thirty-three
- thirty-four
- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- epilogue
Kait made a big show of looking under the bed and in the closet. “There is no cat, Mrs. Meyers.”
“But it meows very loudly. It’s hiding from you. Cats are good at that.”
Kait sighed and left me to deal with an increasingly agitated Ruth Meyers.
“Did you look in the bathroom?” she asked. She shared a small toilet and shower with Mrs. Harrigan in the next room. “Go search in there.” She turned her gaze to the door.
I did. I swept the shower curtain aside. I opened the cabinet under the sink. I swung open the door on Mrs. Harrigan’s side, and discovered the key to our feline mystery. The spring was old, and creaked a loud, wailing meow sound when the door moved.
“Guess what, Mrs. Meyers?” I patted her bony leg under the blanket. “I know what you’re hearing, and it does sound exactly like a cat. We need to fix Mrs. Harrigan’s door and you won’t hear it again.”
“There’s no cat?” She was crestfallen.
“No, ma’am. Just a silly door imitating one very well. I’ll call maintenance and you won’t hear it any more.” I made a mental note: Mrs. Harrigan is going to the bathroom in the middle of the night. A lot.
“Can I get a cat?”
“No, Mrs. Meyers, we can’t have cats in here. Too many people are allergic.”
“I hate this place.” She closed her eyes and sank into the pillows. “We need cats.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Meyers. We do our best.” I closed her door and decided to pick up a stuffed animal at Target for Mrs. Meyers soon. I smiled and went to tell Kait what I’d found before we had to start wound care rounds, every nurse’s least favorite part of the day
Our first stop was poor Mr. Ridley, who was covered in bedsores and required more ointment than we could ever supply. We tried to be gentle but he cried silently as Kait and I tended to him. We noted charts and examined lacerations, looking for signs of infection in each patient.
Kait returned from her break and announced, “There’s a good-looking man in uniform here to see you.” She nodded toward the lobby and took the gauze I was using on Mr. Herman from my hand. “Go. I’ve got this.”