Three years. Time he could not get back had passed and Randy had finally gotten the best news he could hope for. The parole board granted his freedom and the next day, he would walk out of those steel bars and pick up where he left off. He had grown angry as the time passed. Not at Mia, but at the world who felt he had to pay for stopping two criminals from hurting anyone else. The world was a horrible place and he didn't want to trust anyone. He did want to drive a car though. He missed his truck. He missed his job and he missed his best friends. Roman visited him once a week, depositing money and updating him on the progress of his business that was temporally in the hands of his longest employee. A man he knew could handle it in his ab sense. But no new contracts had been signed and no new projects had been accepted. He only wanted the ones he had already take on finished. Now, only the two largest remained and his parole meant that his men no longer had to fear losing their jobs when the last building was complete.
In his own clothes, something he would never take for granted again, Randy stepped out with one bag of belongings. He couldn't wait to get home. Couldn't wait to see Roman who waved from his spot leaned against his truck. It was nice to be free and the universe had given him a perfect blue sky to welcome him back.
"Hey old man!" Roman joked. "Please tell me you are going to shave that thing." He joked about his the beard he had let grow while he was incarcerated. It didn't make sense for him to keep it shaved. It was easier and safer to just let it grow.
"What do you think?"
"I think we are hitting the clubs tonight." A pretty woman smiled from the truck. "You remember Destiny."
"Yes. I do." He raised an eyebrow.
"I've learned a lot of things after … you know. I'm monogamous these days."
"That's hard to believe." he kidded his friend.
"Honest. I'm even thinking about buying a ring." He whispered.
"Congratulations." But the mention of weddings cut him deep. He knew there was one person he wanted to see that wouldn't be waiting for him. That made him bitter and he detested the thought being in a relationship. He didn't want to meet anyone, not even for a one night stand.
He wanted his home, his job and that was it. He wanted nothing to do with the public, the police, he just wanted to be left alone. He would tolerate Roman. He had to. They'd been friends to long, but deep down he resented him for messing up his chance to be happy with his soul mate. He still thought Mia was the only woman meant for him, but he had managed to lock that away as well. The word love just left a bad taste in his mouth.
Even though he argued, Roman managed to drag him out that night. He ended up sitting by himself in the booth, sipping a beer and glowering at his friend and his new girl. Another thing that made him bitter. Karma just wasn't as just as it ought to be. She had her picks. Her favorites that could get away with what ever they wanted.
"I'll catch you later." Randy told Roman and Destiny when they returned to the table.
"It's early!"
"I haven't slept in a real bed in three years." He said. "That's all I want to do right now."
"No thanks to that midget that had you guys wrapped around her finger." Destiny snorted.
"Don't talk about her like that!" Randy warned. "Don't you ever say anything bad about Mia."
Roman watched his friend walk away. Destiny hadn't meant any harm. It was just a little jealousy that worked its way out from time to time. After all Mia was the reason she had been denied a real relationship with Roman. And she deserved better. He had caused her resentments and she resented Mia for running off when Randy was in jail, never coming to see him. Not even a phone call.
"He'll be okay. He's over Mia – and so am I." Roman took his new girls hand. "Damn, I love you." The words he had never been able to say to anyone he told her on a daily basis. She had always claimed she didn't want love, but know that he knew her better, he knew she had tried hard to hide that part of herself. And it had made it easier to deal with the situation. Now that she didn't have to share him, she was happy. As soon as she kissed him, he opened his eyes. Everyone was running outside and he had a feeling he needed to follow them.
He pushed through the crowd outside. There was a circle surrounding something and it was hard to get to the front.
Randy groaned in pain, his back, his legs, his head, everything throbbed. He had barley seen the car that had came barreling through the parking lot, running him down like he had a large target sign on his back, but he knew the driver had meant it. The woman in the drivers seat – her eyes were familiar and as he laid there writhing in pain, he remembered. She was the mother of the men he had shot.
Mia walked in after her weekend off and clocked in. she put her purse away in her locker and took off her coat. The week before had been rough and she didn't feel like she had been off at all. Tori hadn't arrived yet. While Mia was usually thirty minutes early, her friend usually clocked in a couple minutes late.
"We have a transfer coming in today, make sure you have 410 ready." Her nurse ordered. It was unusual for Sonya to arrive so early, which meant she had worked the shift before. Something that only happened when she and her husband were in an argument, which meant she was going to have a particularly bad day. The room was split, the large square desk in the center separating the fifty eight beds the wing held. On the right, the nurse was laid back, letting her assistants work peacefully. On her side, the nurse was a tyrant, bossing and screaming, well only at her. The other two aids could do whatever they pleased and could normally be found standing around the desk or the medicine cart chatting with their supervisor.
"It's already made." Mia never liked a bare mattress in her rooms. It made the room look bad and since her patients had to share a room, she wanted it to look as welcoming as possible.
Her floor was a self pay floor, which meant most the occupants paid for their fees out of pocket with or without the help of private insurance. The other three floors were for government paid programs. Two for one branch and one for the other kind. She didn't care about the specifics. All she knew was that everything had to be perfect on her floor. The patients families were particular and hands on when the care came out of their own pockets.
She had an easy group compared to the other five group of rooms. Some of hers had been with her some time. Some learning the basics all over again after an amputation, some recovering from strokes and others had just had bad luck, but all of them were over the age of sixty. Her favorite had just left the Friday before. Nursing home bound. The last stage of life, but she would fine. She suffered from dementia and would probably still think she was in the small mountain hospital she had spent some of her childhood in. She'd had one leg shorter than the other and until she was sixteen, she had undergone many surgeries in an effort to correct it, until she grew tired and refused any other treatments. She just hoped her next caregiver cared and wasn't just around for a paycheck like so many of the people she worked with.
"You need to call maintenance to remove a bed."
"I'm sorry?" She already had one patient in the room so it made no sense to remove the other bed when a new patient was arriving. Sonya was never clear, but she would act like she gave her perfect directions that she refused to follow when the charge nurse arrived. None of the big wigs knew what kind of a tyrant she really was because she put on a great act, but once no one was around …
"Ms. McGaha is moving to 401. The new patient pays for a private room.
"Oh." That made sense, but it wasn't something she had in one of her rooms, but it did give her one less patient and that would be nice when it came to getting them all up in the morning. She got the room ready that day, moving her patient who wasn't happy about giving up her aid and Mia was sad too, because the girl she was stuck with didn't care about anything but getting done and she thought she was mean to her residents. Not physically, but just in the way she went around telling them what to do instead of asking them. The people were adults after all and deserved to make a decision in their lives.
"Never mind packing McGaha." Sonya poked her head in. "We're moving Chelsea's resident instead." Of course. Chelsea was her favorite aid and she would get the break and have one less patient for a time. And worse, she was getting a patient who was a fighter. Perfect.
After settling her new patient, who seemed much more docile than she remembered her being in her co-workers room, she went on with her work. Helping nine other people bathe and dress before their therapy sessions, passing out breakfast trays in the process and taking vital signs that was supposed to be part of the nurses duties. There was a lot of things the nurses put off on them while they read their morning papers behind the desk.
Three hours later, she sat at the computer moving the mouse, clicking bubbles on her charts. Then paper charts, then she ran down to laundry to collect new sheets for her beds. as soon as the last one was made, it was time to pass out lunch. Collect the trays when they were done, then she took her own lunch break. It was an exhausting day every day in a job where she was never caught up, but the hours went by fast and as soon as she returned, checked her incontinent patients, aided the continent to the bathroom, filled the ice cups, it would be time to go home.
By that time, the new patient had arrived, but she had yet to meet him or her. She shrugged, caught up with Tori, clocked out and headed home.
"Get out!" Randy screamed at the short blond headed girl who had dared pop her head into his room. He hated the new place as much as the old. He hated that he couldn't move his legs, hated that they had sent him out of town to facility that they said was better equipped for his needs. What they really wanted was to be rid of a difficult patient. He stared at the wheelchair, he hated it. And he hated the world. He hated the little girls dressed in blue scrubs who thought they could tell him what to do. They would see. They would all see. He didn't' care who they sent in. three shifts of regular aids and a few fill ins. He had sent them all out in the month he was at the new facility. Even the therapist and doctors who made their rounds found out he wanted no part of their program. If he was going to be stuck in a nursing home, he would do it on his terms. He didn't care how much they told him it was rehabilitation to help him live with he new disability. He didn't believe them when they said he might be able to use his legs again if he just tried. It was bullshit. He knew better. He was there for life and he knew it. He had lost half his life just because he had done the right thing. Sometimes, he even hated Mia. He wished he had died when he was hit by that car. Then she would feel bad, because everything he owned would be handed to her. Then she would have felt guilty.
"Get out! Are you deaf!" he screamed. He especially hated Chelsea. She came in his room the first morning after he arrived, demanding, telling he had to get up. He had to let her bathe him. Even tried to bring in two of her buddies to hold him down so she could. But she didn't care. All she wanted to do was check him off her list. He tossed the tray she had brought. She ducked and it flew outside the door nearly hitting the nurse. At least his arms still worked.
"Close the damn door!" He screamed after her, which she gave him a smirk and walked off, leaving him without privacy out of spite and they said that the employees weren't allowed to do anything to get revenge no matter how he acted. Just like everything else, the brochures had lied.
He glanced outside. Everyone wheeling by was old. Cryptically old. He wasn't ready for the life he was stuck in. He hadn't lived enough yet. At least at the other place there were people his age. The whole wing had been for people his age. Now he was stuck where they mixed everyone. And the only people his age wore a uniform. It didn't matter. He didn't want to associate with the other patients anyway.
Another day, another grand out of his pocket. Why the hell wouldn't they let him hire private care. Why couldn't he have stayed in his own home. Because his parents thought he needed the this type of care. They just didn't want to deal with him. At that moment, he hated them too and the judge that thought he wasn't competent enough to make rash decisions about his own care.
