Page 19 of Unnatural
“Humph.”
Autumn placed the stethoscope in her ears and put the chest piece on Ms. Hastings’s warm, wrinkled skin. “It’s a beautiful day out,” she said, satisfied with the sound of the woman’s heart, removing the earpieces and hanging the stethoscope around her neck. “We should sit in the sun for a bit,” she said, nodding to the small patio out the window where a wooden bench sat directly in a puddle of sunlight.
“I’m just fine in here.”
“Vitamin D is good for you.”
“What’s good for me is my fanny parked in this chair watching my shows.”
Her shows.Autumn wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Ms. Hastings’s arm and pressed the button. The soft purr of the tightening cuff sounded as Autumn tipped her chin toward the dark TV. “That stuff rots your brain. Those fakepeoplerot your brain.”
“They’re not fake—”
“Theyarefake. They live in a box.”
The machine let out a whistling sound as the pressure released, the cuff deflating. “You sound like my mother.”
I sound like your daughter should sound if she cared about you and had anything to do with your life, Autumn thought, picturing the dusty picture on the mantel of the high school graduation photo of the girl, now a woman, who had called once after her mother’s surgery, been told she had made it through, replied with a terse word that reeked of disappointment, and not called back again.Norvisited, though she only lived an hour away. Autumn didn’t know all the ins and outs of their relationship, so she supposed she shouldn’t judge. All she knew was that the grief of loneliness hung on Ms. Hastings, and her body wasn’t going to heal as quickly if her soul was withering away. “I’m wise beyond my years,” Autumn said, giving the woman a cheeky grin and holding out her hand.
Ms. Hastings grumbled a little bit more but let Autumn pull her to her feet and walk her out the back door and onto the sun-drenched patio.
They sat down on the bench, and Autumn scooted close, taking the woman’s hand in hers and patting it. “Doesn’t that feel good?”
“I know these visits aren’t necessary,” Ms. Hastings said, and there was a small tremor in her voice. Fear maybe. Sadness.
“They’re necessary to me,” Autumn said, patting her hand again and holding it tighter.
“For how long?” the old woman asked, and the tremor that time was definitely fear.
“A while, Ms. Hastings. Quite a while.”
Ms. Hastings’s shoulders lowered, a breath releasing.
“What’s sun got to do with medicine?” she murmured.
Autumn squinted up at the sky, breathing deep. “Everything, Ms. Hastings. Feel that vitamin D soaking into your skin?” she asked. “It’s invisible but itheals.It’s sort of like magic, isn’t it?”
“Magic, humph. You’re some kind of nurse, Autumn Clancy.” But Ms. Hastings tipped her face, closing her eyes, a very slight smile gracing her lips. The warmth of the sun. Human contact. Not things listed in medical books but medicine all the same.
Who knows that better than me?
***
“Bill?” Autumn called, dropping her sweater on the back of the couch and walking to the hall that led to his bedroom. The door was open, and she didn’t hear him puttering around inside, so she turned, leaving the house, walking around the side to the large shed at the edge of the trees. She heard the momentary buzz of the saw, and when she opened the door, Bill looked up from where he stood at the counter, a piece of freshly cut wood in his hand.
His smile was instantaneous. He took off his safety glasses and set what looked like a table leg aside. “Hey, darlin’. I didn’t know you were stopping by.”
Autumn smiled too, walking forward and squeezing him tightly. “Do I need an appointment?”
“Never. This is your home. But I would have had some tea made and been a tad less dusty.”
“I don’t need tea, and I’m used to you dusty,” she said on a laugh.
He grabbed a nearby rag and wiped his hands off. “And,” he said, “I would have hidden this because it’s not quitedone.”
Autumn’s eyes widened as she caught sight of the rocking chair right next to him, the stained wood dark and rich. Her breath caught. It was an exact replica of the two on his front porch. “You made me a rocking chair?” she breathed, tears gathering at the backs of her eyes. “But…but my chair ishere.”
He smiled, shrugged, looking as pleased as could be. “And it always will be. But I figured you needed one at your place too. I’ve been meaning to make you one since you moved out and finally got around to it.”
