Chapter 5: Gabby

GABBY

Despite the events of Friday night, I felt well rested and ready for the week when I woke up Monday morning. Though, I did feel a little bad for Byte. I was in the middle of my last semester of school and my schedule was brutal. I had to remind myself frequently that it was almost over.

I found Byte sitting at my kitchen table, intently focused on his laptop screen while he typed. "Morning," I said and made a beeline for the coffee machine. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah," he said distractedly and kept his attention on the screen in front of him.

Assuming he wasn't a morning person, I continued getting ready for the day in silence. Once I finished, I felt awkward and unsure of how to interrupt him. Finally, I cleared my throat and announced, "I'm ready if you are."

Without a single word, he rose from his seat, grabbed his keys, and headed for the front door.

I spent the first half of the ride to the hospital going over every interaction we'd had, trying to figure out what could have caused his sudden change in demeanor, but I couldn't come up with anything. I also didn't want to spend the whole day thinking about it. I had enough to stress about without adding more. So, I mustered up some courage and asked, "Did I do something to piss you off?"

"What?" he asked in surprise. "Of course not. Why would you even think that?"

"Because you've only said one word to me this morning."

"Shit. Sorry," he said and adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. "I haven't been able to find much on this Chad guy, and it's frustrating the hell out of me."

"Oh, well, I guess that's good. I mean good for me, not for you," I rambled. "Not that it's bad for you. Oh, hell, you know what I mean."

He chuckled. "I really got under your skin, huh?"

"I don't like it when someone's upset with me, especially when I don't know why," I admitted.

"Since we're going to be spending a lot of time together over the next two weeks, how about this? I promise to tell you if you do anything that bothers me."

I exhaled in relief. "That'll work for me."

"But you have to promise to do the same," he added.

"Oh, I don't know if I can do that."

"Come on, Gabby. You can't ask me to do something you're not willing to do yourself."

"Of course I can. Let's say there was a spider in the kitchen. I'd have no problem asking you to get rid of it, and that is definitely something I wouldn't be willing to do," I said as he pulled into the parking lot. "But for the sake of time, fine. I'll tell you if you do something that bothers me."

"Great," he smiled. "Now, what time do I need to pick you up?"

"Can I text you this afternoon and let you know? Technically, my shift is over at quarter after seven, but I can't leave if something's going on or if I haven't finished my work. Most of the time, I'm finished by seven thirty, but there have been times I was there until nine."

"That's fine, and I'll text you when I get here. Make sure you stay inside and in an area with people around until you hear from me."

"I will," I promised. "I'll see you later. Thanks again."

"You're welcome. Have a good day."

"Thanks. You, too," I said and got out of his truck. Then I stopped at the front door and turned to wave goodbye before I walked into hell.

"Rough day?" Byte asked when he picked me up from work.

"If I never hear my name again, it'll be too soon."

"What happened?"

"Today, I had a patient who's bedridden, blind, and has some dementia. As I always do, I started the day by going to each room and introducing myself. ‘Hi, my name's Gabby, and I'll be your nurse for the day.' From the moment I said my name, the man started saying it. On repeat. He called for me all day. Do you know what it's like to hear someone calling your name nonstop for twelve hours? Let me tell you. It is a special kind of nerve-wracking, anxiety-inducing, maddening torture."

Byte grimaced. "That sounds awful. There wasn't anything you could do?"

"I gave him the medicines his doctor had ordered for anxiety and agitation, hoping they would make him sleepy like they do every other person on the planet. But, no, not this guy. He sounded like a bird with the way he would draw out my name in his croaky little voice. ‘Gaaabby. Gaaabby. Gaaabby.' And it's not like I could ignore a patient calling for me. So, I pretty much spent my entire day hovering around his room."

"I can't say I've ever experienced anything like that."

"Enough about me. How was your day?"

He sighed. "Uneventful."

"Really?" I asked in surprise.

He shrugged. "Well, I guess that's not completely true. I did figure out the guy you were seeing was using a fake name. I don't know what his real name is, but it's not Chad Higgins."

"Well, that's great," I muttered.

He shrugged. "It's not a big deal. I was kind of expecting it."

"Really? Why?"

"When I initially searched his name, I should've found a lot more than I did. It's nearly impossible to not have some presence online. Think about it. Public records like traffic violations, judicial records, property taxes, and marriage licenses are all available online."

"Right, but what if he'd never been married, rented instead of owned, and hadn't been to court for anything?"

"Even if that was the case, I find it hard to believe that a twenty-nine-year-old has never been cited for a traffic violation."

"Touché," I admitted.

When we arrived at my house, I waited in the truck while Byte made sure the house was clear. He waved me inside a few moments later, and I went straight for the bathroom. I made quick work of showering and returned to the kitchen, only to realize I had very little to eat in the house.

"Byte," I gasped. "I'm so sorry. I completely forgot about groceries."

"Not a problem. I stopped by Irene's for dinner," he said and reached into the fridge. "I wasn't sure what you'd like, but I figured I couldn't go wrong with a cheeseburger."

"You're the best," I said and happily took the container of food from him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

After reheating the food, I sat down at the table and took a huge bite. "Mmm," I moaned. "This is delicious."

"Glad you like it."

"You mentioned her before. Who's Irene?" I asked and continued to inhale the cheeseburger.

"She's a good friend. She owns the diner on Main Street," he explained.

"Oh," I said, feeling slightly deflated with his response. Whatever, or whomever, he did in his free time was none of my business. Suddenly, the burger I had been devouring didn't taste as good as it initially had.

"You've obviously never been to the diner," he mused.

I cocked my head to the side. "What makes you say that?"

"Because if you had, you'd know Irene is in her sixties. She was the first person I met when I moved to Cedar Valley, and she's been like a mother to me ever since. Well, maybe a crazy aunt is a better way to describe her," he explained.

He was far more observant than I thought. I felt seen, and I didn't like it. I had no right to be jealous of anyone in his life. Then I silently laughed at myself. I wasn't jealous. I was under a lot of stress and tired. It was nothing more than that.

I swallowed the last bite of my burger and smiled. "Please thank her for dinner. It was wonderful. And thank you for thinking of me."

"Gabby," he started.

"Byte, I'm beyond tired. I'm going to bed."

"All right. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night," I said and headed for the sanctity of my bedroom.

"Did you change clothes?" Byte asked when he picked me up from the doctor's office the following evening.

"Yes, I did. Twice, actually," I huffed.

"Do I want to know why?"

"Probably not, but I'll tell you. The first time was because a patient vomited all over me. An adult patient who couldn't be bothered to turn her head away from me or attempt to cover her mouth. And she didn't apologize. Seriously, if you spray your stomach juice all over someone else, the least you can do is say you're sorry."

Byte tried to stifle his laughter, but he failed miserably. "I'm sorry. It's not funny, but the way you told it is." He cleared his throat and tried to regain some composure. "So, what caused the second change of clothes?"

"After lunch, we were seeing a patient who had her infant with her. She'd been holding the baby and put her in her carrier for the exam. Little Miss did not want to be put down and started screaming her head off. The patient was having sutures removed from her chest, so she couldn't hold her. I'm telling you, this baby was crying so hard her entire head was damn near purple. I was genuinely concerned for the child, so I offered to hold her while the doctor removed the stitches. The kid calmed down as soon as I picked her up. And two minutes later, she turned into a geyser of shit. Literally. It sprayed out of the leg holes of her diaper while simultaneously shooting up her back and out the neck of her onesie. I'm not sure how, but I managed to not drop the baby and keep a straight face while baby shit seeped into my clothing. The mother was apologetic, but I didn't care. I handed that kid off and bolted for the bathroom as soon as I could."

"Sounds like you had a pretty shitty day," Byte laughed.

"Ha. Ha. Ha," I sniped.

"I'm sure you'll be able to laugh about it later."

"Maybe, but right now, I feel disgusting, and I'm starving. And let me tell you why I'm starving. Because my lunch ‘mysteriously' disappeared."

"What do you mean by ‘mysteriously'?"

"I mean someone other than me ate it," I griped.

"Are you serious?"

"Yep. And it's not the first time it's happened."

"Someone's stealing your lunch?" he asked in disbelief. "Do you know who it is?"

"I have no idea, and I don't know how to catch them without hanging around the break room all morning, which I can't do."

"Oh, that's easy. Add some really hot peppers to something in your lunch. If your food doesn't get stolen that day, don't eat whatever has the peppers in it. If it does get stolen, you'll know without a doubt who took it," he said.

"That's brilliant!" I said excitedly.

"Do you want to stop by the grocery store on the way home?" he asked.

"Normally, I'd say yes, but I really, really want to take a shower. I rinsed off in the staff shower at the office, but I still don't feel clean. Can we go to the store after? And pick up something for dinner while we're out?"

"Sure, if that's what it takes to get you out of your crappy mood," he teased.