Chapter 3

Dusty was on the board of trustees of the hospital. He hadn't really wanted to be. It just happened that way. When Martha, the woman that they all had fallen in love with when moving here, when she would ask them to do something, they did it for her. She had always steered them in the right direction, and even in death, they still thought of her to do things that would keep making her proud of them.

She would have told him to fire Scott several months ago had she still been with them. The man was insane to think that someone who loathed him as much as Shipley did would marry him. He looked around the table of the men and women that were on the board as well. When asked if he had anything to say, he stood up.

"As you all know, my family has been taking care of this hospital since we moved here. Donating not just our hard-earned money but also our time and efforts to keep things well running here. But the funding will stop if you continue to keep Scott Landry on as an employee. This is the first time that we've had any interaction with you to do something that we want, and after all this time, it's something that needs to be done before he gives the hospital a bad name." He named off all the things that they'd been able to find out about the man in the short amount of time that they had.

Fifteen minutes before the board was called together, his family was able to find nearly thirty things that the man had been reprimanded on, written up about, and talked to about his behavior. That was a lot of things to have on your record for only the first five days of the month.

"My family has mentioned four times before that Scott Landry is a problem here, and according to the notebook that I have from his office, he's been doing things behind the back of all of us that should have been picked up on sooner than this." They asked him what kind of things that they supposedly had on the man. "I have it right here."

He handed each of them a copy of the pages that he'd only been able to glance at when Alex had told him what to copy. In addition to the things in the book that involved the hospital, there were things in the book that had to do with not just Shipley but her sister and her husband as well. He had the staff hold pain meds from the man that might have made him rest easier. They certainly would have made his death a bit more comfortable than it had been.

The men and women of the board were reading over the papers as he finished up handing them out. There were several questions, which he had expected, but there were also a lot of them saying that they had had trouble with him as well.

"I don't want to tell you what to do. But if he continues to work here, you'll find the funding that we donate here taken off our books. As it stands right now, we have stopped payments made to keep the nursing staff in things that they need to get their jobs done. Also, the wing that is being funded by the Martha Grable foundations, which my brother oversees, will stop as well." One of the women asked him if he was blackmailing him. "Call it what you wish, but would you keep a man on that you can see for yourself is causing trouble over the hundreds of thousands of dollars my family donates to you yearly?"

Gathering up his things, he was on his way down the elevator when he heard from the board. They had decided to fire Scott. However, they weren't pleased about the blackmail of their funding. As soon as he saw Locke and the other, he was going to tell them to stop donating money to the hospital by half. He didn't like the way that he'd had to do what he'd done either.

He was glad to see that they had done as they said on his way out of the hospital. Much to his surprise they were calling in the police in the event that something went wrong. While he didn't think that the man was the violent type, he was single-minded and would drive them crazy with his way of thinking things through. Watching the men gather with the others made him feel good about having to put his foot down. He also didn't care to be doing that as it made him feel like he was making demands on the staff that he'd been trying his best to make sure had all that they needed to work.

Dusty was headed home when he heard from Shipley. She told him that she was at his house and had some questions for him. Diverting himself to his home, she was standing on the front porch when he pulled into his driveway. Then he corrected himself. It was their driveway now.

"Why on earth did you buy such a huge assed house?" He laughed, telling her what Martha, the woman that they compared all women to, had told him all the time about going big or going home. "I suppose that's about as good a reason as any; however, if you think that I'm filling these rooms with babies, then you have to rethink that. I'm not a broodmare."

"No, you are not." He kissed her on the mouth. "What was it that you wanted to ask me? I'm in a sore mood. Not bad; I just think that the hospital board hurt my feelings. Whiney? Yes, but they should have taken care of the man long before now."

"I agree. Okay. You have eleven bedrooms if you count the playroom on the third floor. I've been in all of them and if you ask me, there needs to be something done to the ones on the upper floor. The rooms are much too small to be anything but for an office or storage." He asked her what she had in mind. "Well, and you can tell me no if you wish, but what if there were only two bedrooms on that floor, and we take the middle one and make it a part of the master bedroom. The other one can be an office, that's about all it's going to be good for that people can't just wander into our private area and then have a bedroom worthy of a house this large." He asked her about the other bedrooms.

"There are eight of them down the long hall. Four on either side of it. While I do know that they're a good size for a bedroom for kids, just putting that out there, I think that only having the one bathroom at the end of the hall will cause trouble when we have daughters. I hope that they're just like you, by the way." She glared at him. "Or sons. I could care less so long as we can make them be good people that we can be proud of."

"While you're right about the bathrooms, I can't think of a way to make that happen without tearing up the entire house to get it done." He kissed her again, loving how it made her look frustrated when she was asking him something.

"Will you stop that and pay attention to me? I'm trying to be serious here. If we start having sex, I want to be prepared for any child that might come from it. And yes, before you ask, I'd be thrilled to have a child with you. But I want this taken care of first. What do you say?"

"I say that we have August come in and look around. I think he has a minor in architecture that has come in handy a few times. I know that he loves doing it but starting out, it didn't make him as much money as he thought that they should be making. I don't know what that means to him. But call him, tell him what we were thinking, and let him guide us to make it so that we have the least amount of mess that we can have." She asked how come he didn't do that for a living now. "I don't know. I believe that he has his reasons but I can't for the life of me remember if he told me about it or not. He is really good at facts, so that might be it."

She was calling his brother when he went into the first bedroom on the second floor. Shipley was right. They were about big enough for a bedroom but not much more. This particular bedroom had a full-sized bed in it that he'd picked up somewhere a while ago. For a time, he'd been using the bed but now he slept on the first floor. There was a nice-sized room down there that he was sure was supposed to be like a gaming room but he liked the way that the sun shone into the room on a sunny day.

"He's coming over now. Demitrius is coming with him. There is a job opening up someplace that he wants to talk to you about." Shipley looked at him. "Why do you work? I know you're supposed to have a ton of money, so why not…you know what? I've answered that for myself. You'd never be the type of person that would just be idle. I'm betting, too, that you make all kinds of money for yourself and your family, too, don't you? How did you start out with all this money? I don't know why, but I have a feeling that you didn't come from money."

"We didn't. And that's a good story. When we were all living at home with our father, an abusive man that we hated with every breath that we took. We'd play the lottery. Not all of us, but mostly, it would be Locke. He would play all our birthdays and since Demitrus and Knox were born on the twenty-third of a month, he used that second number to use as the power ball doubler. It's been about twelve years since we won, and the amount, a staggering fifty-six billion that we didn't have to share with anyone, has about doubled since then. Or more, I guess, if you count the money that Locke has from Alma's estate. Which he shared with us as well." She asked him if he was serious. "Yes. Forever serious when it comes to money. If we were to separate out our own money from working, I'd have the most as I sometimes invest in things that the family doesn't want to. I've taken chances that they didn't want to for one reason or another and have done very well."

"You're a billionaire. The six of you are billionaires. Is that what you're saying?" He smiled at her and nodded. "I'm going to need words here, Dusty. You're all billionaires, and you've never, I'm assuming, that you've never told anyone, and that's why no one believes you when you say things like you did today with the board."

"Pretty much. The banker here in town wouldn't allow us to open an account with them when we first moved here. As you might well understand, we left with literally nothing but the clothing on our backs. We left behind everything, not taking even a picture for fear of our father or someone would find us. I believe to this day that's the only thing that saved us." She asked him about his father. "I know that he died sometime back. Not that any of us went to his funeral or even paid for it, though we could have. As I said, he was an abusive bastard that knocked us around more than necessary. Our mom, for all we know, could be dead as well. She left us when we were little to save herself from our father. The older I got, the more selfish I realized that she was. We didn't contact her either, even though we had enough money to do so. I don't know, however, if she's gone but I'm assuming so. If she is still alive, she'd be in her late eighties by now. I don't know for sure."

She sat there on the couch with him. A couch like the bedroom set that he had in one of the spare bedrooms was used and looked pensive. When she stood up, putting out her hand, he took it into his.

"This house is lacking in even the basic needs here. We have no bedroom furniture but for a mattress laying on the floor. Four plates, three forks, and one glass that we have to share. We're not going to go crazy with your money—" He corrected her. "All right, our money, but we need to get this house in some kind of finished state. We'll talk to August, then go to town. I'm the type of person who likes to test things before buying them. So, no internet buying. All right with you? Also, I'll sign a prenup if you wish."

"I don't want that. What I have is yours now." He pulled out his wallet and thought it funny that he only had four one dollar bills in it. But a lot of credit cards. "We can use these or not. I don't know where they came from other than they had my name on them, and…Alex told me not to cancel them as they'll ding my credit score. Which is really good, she told me."

He told her how Alex had gotten them to look at their credit. How people were charging them for things that they didn't need. Then he told her how he was paying several cable bills for the same house and that Locke had been paying for someone to come into his home and press his suits. That he didn't wear but once in a while.

"What am I going to do with you, Dusty? You're a brilliant man who has no idea what kind of credit score you have." She looked at the credit cards in his wallet. "These are all for specialty stores. We'll use the credit card that is taken everywhere so that we don't have to pay so much in interest. Also, we'll have dinner. I don't want to make you broke so we're going to keep a running total of what we spend for each room."

August showed up about the time they had decided where they were headed. However once August started looking around, they were going to have to go tomorrow. He had ideas about the bedroom that they both loved. It was something that he'd done in his own home recently.

"More than likely, six bedrooms will be plenty. Just cut the middle one out and add bathrooms to all of them, even if they have to be like a Jack and Jill bathroom—though now that I think about it might not work. Just put a bathroom in each bedroom, and it will make everyone happy. Larger rooms, too." They agreed with him. "I can have a crew up here as early as Monday. Also someone to come in and redo the upper levels as well. I think that's what Locke and Alex are doing to the nursey that they uncovered, too."

~*~

Scott was so pissed off that he had a headache from it. How dare Candy turn him down when he'd asked her first. Not to mention turning to that fool Derick or whatever his name was when he was standing right there with his ring out.

Of course, the bastard had a ring, too. But he'd bet anything that it was a fake diamond or something equally stupid. Like one he'd gotten from a bubble gum machine. The man was so uncouth that he wanted to smack him around every time he saw him. They were stupid with their money, too. His momma had told him that information just yesterday when she'd come to talk to him.

They'd used Ms. Garble's money to renovate that big ugly house on Main Street. And he knew for a fact that the men did not have a dime between them when they'd come into town either. His brother had been the banker for the local one when they'd come here. Not once did they come into the place to open an account.

Barry had been the bank manager for a decade when suddenly he was pulled out by the police one morning and arrested. They said that he was skimming money off of the bank's end of day. If he'd told his brother once, he'd told him a million times, don't piss where you took a nap. He'd also told him not to get caught. That was what his momma had taught the two of them since they were little men. The police didn't care for people to be messing with the bank funds. That's the reason that he was in the hospital working. There were no funds there but a lot of people's lives that he could fuck around with. And he did. Everyday.

But the Erickson's took the check that Alma, the old woman that they'd cuddled up to when she got hers, they'd come in and put it into her account. Not cash it out like he would have done and pocketed the money. Nope, the idiots had left it in her account for her to pay her bills.

Scott thought that when you got to a certain age, they should be doubling up on their bills. Charge them twice for whatever they had in the way of utilities. It was a certainty that they'd not be around long, so why not get as much out of them as one could. They just never thought like he did when it came to old people. Speaking of which…

When he heard wheezing coming down the hallway to the cell he was in, he knew that it was his momma. When she got to the place he'd been put in, she banged on his cell bars and told him to come closer so that she could knock him around. Of course, he didn't. There was no way that he was going to be letting her beat on him while in jail.

A chair was brought for her, and her oxygen tank was sat up close to her. She was forever totting around a large tank so that she could continue breathing. She sat down with a huff and the chair actually spread its legs out wider, like it understood it was in danger with her sitting in it.

"Well?" He asked her what she meant. "Well, did she tell you no like I told you she would? I have told you and told you what to do with her. Grab her off the streets and knock her around a bit. Then tell everyone that you had her so that she'll be spoiled for other men. Did you do that?"

"No. She carries a gun. I told you that, too. I think that she'd shoot me before I could get her to listen to me." His momma told him that he was a fool then. "Do you really think that I'd be able to get her to listen to me? She doesn't seem to listen to anyone that talks to her."

"That's why you gotta show her who the boss is. Dang it, Scott, I told you that she needs to be caring for me in my olden age. With her being a doctor, she'll not be able to charge me those big prices to keep me alive. You can't do it and have a job. She can lift me up. She's got them strong arms from being in the army. I need her to be around so that I can show her how to be a good daughter-in-law, too. What are you waiting on?" He told his momma what had happened at the house when he'd been arrested. "So what? That man didn't ask her first. She's bonded to you now. You tell her that she has to marry you now on account'a you having asked her first. We should have thought of that before. You binding her with you by asking."

"I don't know that I want to be married to her. She's a real mean person, momma. Is there anyone else that you can think of that will be able to move you around? I think that I'd be better off leaving her alone. She carries that gun, too, and has men around her all the time, so she's protected. I told you that." Momma told him to stop being a pussy and to listen to her. "I have been, and so far, all I've gotten is a headache when her sister hit me."

"Her sister hit you? Well Jeeze Louise, Scott, how do you think that's going to sound when it gets around? People already don't have much in the way of respect for you. This is going to make you a laughing stock." He told her that he knew that, too. "Did you at least hit her back? I would have."

"I couldn't. I got knocked out." She didn't take too kindly to that information either. When the door opened down the hall, they both waited to see what was coming. He hoped it was another person to be in jail. It was lonely not having anyone to talk to all day. That's why the hospital job was so good for him.

He could walk around like he was in charge. He was, to a point, in his mind anyway. Just the nurses were in his department. However, he did try to manage the doctors too. But they knew he was lying when he said he'd been in charge of them. They'd just go about their business as if he'd ever said a word to them. Damned upstarts, as his momma would call them.

"Mr. Landry? I have a message from the hospital for you." He reached for the sheet of paper, but his momma snatched it away before he could get it. "It says you have been fired. My sister works there. She told me that you were a bully to everyone. I'm glad you lost your job."

The man walked away, laughing his fool ass off. He had to wait until his momma got finished with the note before he could read what their excuse was for firing the best man they had. She crumbled the note up and tossed it in the hallway.

"They said that you've been fired so that the Ericksons don't take back their funding. What does that mean?" He told her that he honestly didn't know that the Ericksons had any money. Then he told her what his brother would say to him. "So they have enough to have something to do with the new wing it said. The only new part of that hospital had been from Martha…what was her last name? Grable, that's it. And since it was in her name, then that means that they had nothing to do with it but to spend that old woman's money when her son was left out in the cold. Did you know that? She didn't leave her son a single dime. That's not right. Even gave her house to that nurse, Derick or something. The one that you're forever telling me about."

He'd heard that story, too. That the six men had pulled up in a van, and when it broke down, they went into the house and started making it their own. Not the real story, but that was the one he liked better than them helping out old Lady Grable so much that the house became a showcase and was featured in all kinds of magazines. And that Locke—another stupid name for a person— had gone to nursing school to become a good nurse to take care of the old broad in her later years. Christ, it sickened him when he thought of what a waste of time it had been to keep that woman hanging around longer than her time. He wished someone would take out his momma at times. She could be as mean as a rattler when she wanted to.

"You've lost your job. Now you need to get married to that girl. Fast too. I'm not going to keep you with my social security, either. That's barely enough for me to get my medications and my hair done once a week. You tell her that I said to get her bottom in gear and say yes. Then, if that don't work, you tell her that I'm coming for her if she don't. I'm finished with that girl putting you off all the time." He told her that he'd have to get out of jail first. "I'm making arrangements for that to happen too. I can't believe that they're making me, of all people, have to bail you out. What do they think that I'm made of? Money? Certainly not."

There was quite a kerfuffle when his momma had asked for a senior discount on his bail. He didn't know what that would have entailed with her, but he was sure that she should have been given it. She was almost sixty-five, so that should count for something, he thought. But then he realized that he'd not have given her a discount either if she'd been in his hospital.

When he got out, he made his way to the hospital. He had something to do there, and most importantly, he was going to make them give him his job back. There was no reason whatsoever that he should be out of work because of the Erickson people. What had they ever done for the hospital, he wondered.

The security team was called as soon as he came in the front entrance. The lady at the reception desk told him that he wasn't to be there. Like anything would get done if he wasn't. Leaving her there to go and deal with his office, he made his way to the elevators to go up to his floor.

His badge wouldn't work in getting him into his office. The dammed people took forever to get him his overtime pay when he had it, but they were Johnny on the spot to turn off his badge when they supposedly fired him. It wasn't until security chased him all over the hospital before finding him that he could get one of them to open his door. And even then, they told him that he didn't work here and they'd not do it.

After explaining to them how Derrick was to blame for the misunderstanding, he told them that he had to get out his book if nothing else. It was what he wrote about in it that kept him informed. Like which two people were having an affair. Which nurses had the best ass. The one that had the biggest breasts, too. There were notes on everyone, and he'd use it against them all if they didn't let him do his flipping job.

"You're not going in there or anywhere else in the hospital, Mr. Landry. You're to leave now. Before we call the police and have you taken back to jail." He said that he'd only just been free of there. "Be that as it may. If you don't leave now, we're going to make sure that you stay put this time. I'm not kidding you when I tell you that the police won't be as nice to you as we've been."

"You haven't been nice to me at all. You're trying to kick me off the premises like I have no right to be here. I'm in charge of the nursing department." He said that he wasn't, actually. "As I have said to you twice now, there was a simple misunderstanding that I'm going to clear up soon. I just have to get into my office and get my book."

The police were called and he still hadn't gotten into his office. He couldn't even get the daily schedule that he had himself on. It was to make sure that he hit one part of the hospital daily. These people were not cooperating with him, and now he was headed back to the flipping jail.

This time, there was no bail that could be paid. When his momma couldn't pay it, he'd already tapped her out she'd told him he tried calling Candy. Surely, she'd come to help him. He'd have to threaten her, too, if she didn't. There wasn't any way that she was going to leave the love of her life in jail to rot.

"I need to call Candy." None of the officers knew who he was speaking about. "Candy Shipley. Of course, you know who she is. We're getting married soon."

"I don't think you have the right of that, Mr. Landry. She's set to marry Dusty." He asked who that was. "You call him Derrick all the time. In fact it's been brought to my attention that you call everyone that you don't know Derrick. Even the women. That's very sloppy work on you if you really do that."

"I don't have time to learn people's names. I have enough going on with my momma and that errant soon-to-be wife of mine." He was told that Shipley—who he had to have explained to him who she was—wanted nothing to do with him. "Well, that's just too bad on her part. I want you to call her up right now and tell her that I'm demanding her to get her bottom here and bail me out so that we can talk wedding plans."

While he was being escorted out of the hospital, all he could think about was why he was so obsessed with marrying a woman that he didn't particularly like all that much. She'd never been nice to him. Not even when they were in school together. She was forever treating him like he was a pest, like a fly buzzing around her head and nothing more. So why did he want her? He asked himself again and again. What the hell was wrong with him? That was something else that he asked himself times a day and still had no answer.