resurface.
As much as I hated to admit it, I had to give Holly a chance. I doubted her skills
as a physical therapist could help me, but maybe I could at least be grateful for her
company. After all, she was the only one allowed to talk to me casually.
I rubbed my face with my hands, trying to dispel the anger in my eyes before I
opened the door and leaned against the frame. Holly was sitting on a bench in the
hallway. Hank and Blondie remained standing at their posts in front of the
sunroom.
“Jaden, are you okay? I didn’t think—” Holly spoke quickly, like she was going
to apologize, but I cut her off.
“I’m fine. I’m sorry you had to see that, but I have a very short fuse, and I’m not
very good at controlling my anger. At least right now.”
Holly smiled, pleasantly surprised by my apology. “It’s okay, Jaden. I
understand. Don’t worry, though. We will figure this out together.”
I nodded in acknowledgment. There would be a lot of shit to figure out in the
next few weeks.
“So what’s next on this crazy train of yours?” I asked with a smirk.
She positively beamed.
“Well, it’s a bit early, but I thought we could have lunch on the patio. Are you
hungry?”
I wasn’t really that hungry, but whatever. I’d be the good little puppy and follow.
“Sure,” I said and allowed her to lead me out to the patio, Hank and Blondie hot
on my heels.
Our lunch had been placed on a small round bronze table for two at the far
corner of the patio, closest to the water. As we sat down, the staff poured us the
same detox water we had on the beach and then removed the lids covering out
plates. The moment I saw it, I almost flipped it off the table in rage and disgust.
A steaming bowl of chicken stir-fry sat in front of me, mocking and distasteful.
“Something wrong?” Holly asked as she picked up her fork, concern all over her
face again. I quickly looked up to brush it off.
“No. It’s fine,” I said with a half-smile. It was not fine. I never wanted to see
another chicken stir-fry in my life, let alone eat one! My time at the warehouse had
completely ruined stir-fry for me forever.
“Do you not like stir-fry?” Holly asked.
“No, it’s fine, I just … who chose our lunch for the day?”
Holly furrowed her brows in confusion. “I did,” she replied, taking a quick bite.
“Oh. Okay then.” I guess no one told her.
“But every meal required approval from Mr. Davis first,” she added.
“Ah. Of course,” I gritted.
Mr. Davis and I would be having words later.
We ate in silence for a while until Holly attempted to make small talk about the
weather, which I reluctantly obliged. She talked about how summer was her
favorite time of year and tried to get me to talk about my favorite season. She
wanted to know my favorite everything, actually, which was rather annoying. Fall,
Christmas, purple, wolf, Limp Bizkit, and ironically enough, Goodfellas.
Holly’s methods of figuring me out through means of conversation were
interesting to observe as she danced around subjects I knew were forbidden for her
to ask about. She neglected to ask about my family, where I was born, or where I
had gone to school. I almost found it comical how she carefully tiptoed around
anything that wasn’t a generic question, especially since she was doing a good job.
It seemed as though she were trying to remind me of all my favorite things, to
motivate me to experience them again as if they still had the power to make me
happy. I appreciated the efforts, but I was more interested in turning the
conversation to her.
“How did you come to accept employment here?” I asked. Holly chewed her food
as her eyes focused on the table, her mind clearly deliberating her answer. Finally,
she swallowed, but didn’t meet my gaze.
“I was recruited from the nearby hospital on the mainland.”
I raised my eyebrows. She didn’t exactly come off as a native.
“You live on the mainland?” I asked.
“Yes, I’m doing my residency at the hospital there.”
I furrowed my brows in confusion.
“How are you able to complete your residency and still do this?”
“I requested two months leave.” She smiled.
“Why would you do that? Won’t it screw you up?”
She folded her lips together as if she didn’t want to answer my question, but I
already knew the answer.
“Never mind,” I said. “It makes sense now.” I was sure Darren was paying her a
small fortune to come out here and be a live-in physical therapist.
“When an opportunity comes along to pay off your student loans, you jump on it
before it disappears,” she said sadly.
“No, I get it. You don’t have to feel bad about it. I’d probably do the same
thing.”
She nodded and began to push her remaining food around with her fork. I looked
down at
