A/N: Here's the very belated first installment of Mari's Xmas Exchange. She requested.
1) A dingy side alley 2) Mrs. Moreno 3) Mushrooms 4) Logan's quarterly check from Cale Industries
I'm bound and determined to include them all eventually. The whole Mrs. Moreno's scene was always a bit much for me, so why not have a little fun with it? I'll be happy to take suggestions if you have an idea of where you want this to go. I've got ideas, but I'm willing to entertain other possibilities! Enjoy and review!
Fogle Towers, Seattle, WA
It had been three days since Mrs. Moreno had collapsed in her bathroom and the dripping water had brought Logan to her apartment. When the paramedics took her to Metro Medical, it had looked as though she had suffered only a slight bump on the head. She should have been discharged after a few hours of observation. Out of curiosity and a little concern, Logan had gone past her door yesterday and, seeing the junk mail piled in front of it, figured that they still hadn't released her.
There were dozens of messages in his Eyes Only inbox, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to look at them. It had only been a week since Dr. Vertes had been killed, bringing to an end his hope for walking again. In truth, once the sensation and strength had started ebbing from his legs, he had not held out much hope that the injections and therapy would bring them back. Yet he hadn't been able to stop himself from seeking out the doctor…if you could really call her that. Deep down, he had known that Max wouldn't understand how he could have put himself in the hands of that vile woman, but he couldn't help himself. The feeling of sand between his toes, the cold water freezing his feet, putting one foot in front of the other - it had been intoxicating and he had wanted so desperately to hold onto it.
So, this morning, Logan had held a finger poised over his keyboard, the cursor over his email inbox. Instead, he had opened a new window and typed in "Metro Medical Inpatient Roster Moreno". An hour later, he had figured out why Mrs. Moreno hadn't been back to her apartment. Apparently, she didn't have any family living nearby and the medical staff said she didn't have transportation to get home. Although she had seemed confused when she first arrived, later notes showed that she seemed utterly lucid and was eagerly asking to go home. Still, the social worker had refused to approve her for discharge. Since when did hospitals worry about how a patient was going to get home? Since the Pulse, hospitals had barely enough resources to patch people up, let alone worry about their social situations.
Logan looked up the number and dialed.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. Who did you say you were again?" The social worker had said when she finally came on the line.
Logan flicked on the speaker of his headset. "Daniel Moreno. I'm Ana Moreno's nephew. My aunt passed her competency test, so I'd like to pick her up tonight or tomorrow and bring her home. I've arranged for home nursing for her first few days home. I think that was the last piece you were probably waiting for."
"Yes, I know. Everything's clear. Your aunt's doctor was a bit surprised that you had called. Apparently, she had understood that your aunt's relatives didn't live in Seattle and that she wouldn't be moving back to her place at all. I think the doctor said that one of your other uncles arranged for her to move to a supervised residential facility. Apparently, he didn't live in Seattle, but he was worried about her living alone, but, since you've arranged everything, I don't see why she can't be on her way home soon," the social worker had said.
"I'm glad to hear that. Especially since Christmas is the day after tomorrow. She'll be glad to be back in her own place. Good-bye Mr. Moreno."
The front door slammed.
Max called out to him as she shifted a bag of groceries from one hip to the other, "Don't you think that's weird that Mrs. Moreno never told you she had a relative trying to find a place for her in a nursing home?"
"You know I find it creepy when you listen in on every word of a phone conversation right through the door…both sides of the phone conversation," Logan replied, looking up to see Max's face peeking at him over bag of food.
"Sorry. I couldn't help myself. Like I said, don't you think it's weird?"
Logan swiveled in a neat circle and followed Max to the kitchen.
"Yeah, she's never mentioned anyone in the area, for sure. In fact, I think one of the reasons she's been a little down is that her only son lives in D.C. and he hasn't visited her for a long time. If she had a brother who knew her well enough to arrange for her to move out of the apartment, you'd think she would have mentioned him before."
Since Logan and Mrs. Moreno shared the last elevator stop, it was inevitable that they would run into each other at least once a week. When he had first moved in, he had rarely talked to his neighbor. Once Eyes Only came along, he tried to keep an even lower profile. If wasn't until after the shooting that he had gotten to know her better. She had looked in on him a few times when he had come home from the hospital. The batches of homemade cookies which she had shyly left at the door had won over
Bling too and they chatted regularly after that.
Logan had bought the apartment years ago. Before Eyes Only. Even before his stint at the Pacific Free Press. A friend of the family said he had a gorgeous penthouse that he was going to sell for a song. If it hadn't been for the rock-bottom price, Logan probably wouldn't have given the place a second look. He tried to have as little to do as possible with Jonas and his friends, but the opportunity to own his own place, on his own salary, without depending on his quarterly check from Cale Industries, was an opportunity he couldn't pass up.
It was the younger son of Jack Westing, Jonas's friend, who had sold him the apartment. The family's main residence was outside the city, but the they had kept the Fogle Towers as a place to entertain and serve as a guest house for visiting business acquantances.
Officially, Logan's apartment was the penthouse, but the building had a little extra studio on the half floor above his apartment. Most of his apartment had double-height cathedral ceilings, but the bedrooms and study had conventional low ceilings. Mrs. Moreno apartment sat in that space above those rooms. A small flight of steps ran up from the penthouse landing to Mrs. Moreno's front door. The night that Mrs. Moreno had fallen in the bathroom, he had backed his way up those steps one at a time to get to her apartment, painfully aware that, just one week earlier, he could have bounded up the steps easily. He supposed that, at one time, her apartment must have been a maid's quarters, a place for someone who worked for the occupant of the penthouse. If Mrs. Moreno's bathroom hadn't been directly over Logan's desk, he might never have noticed the dripping water or found Mrs. Moreno. Lucky for her, he supposed.
Max started unloading groceries onto the counter.
"I brought the fixings for eggnog and hot chocolate for a late night snack," Max pulled eggs and cream out of the bag, "I thought it would get us in the holiday spirit."
"I'm not sure I've got much holiday spirit yet, Max," Logan said gently, his face darkening. "Still getting used to being shorter again." He rolled the chair back and forth a few times, as if to emphasize his point.
Max pointedly ignored his comment and continued to put the food into the fridge.
"I am going to make this eggnog. If you don't help me, I can't take any responsibility for the way it tastes and a lot of eggs and cream will have been wasted, not to mention the booze." Max turned to face Logan, hand on her hip, holding up the bottle of cream and a paper bag. "And if that isn't enough inspiration, I managed to find a few elusive wild mushrooms at the street market too."
Logan looked at his favorite enhanced DNA transgenic girl, dressed in sleek black and red riding gear, stripping off her bike gloves and tying on a kitchen apron.
"All right, all right. You remind me of some post-apocalyptic dairy maid with that bottle of cream in your hand and that look on your face." He laughed and the dark moment passed.