Anton (Chicago Blaze 1)
“Hello?”
“Mr. Petrov, it’s Marjorie, Mr. Dixon’s nurse.”
The new nurse has only been on duty for a few days. My stomach drops with worry over the late-night call.
“Is he okay?” I ask.
Her laugh is humorless. “I tucked him into bed and went to take a shower. A Chicago PD officer knocked on the door as soon as I was done and told me Mr. Dixon was urinating off of the balcony.”
“Oh, shit.” I close my eyes.
“I can’t even trust him long enough to use the bathroom. And his language…”
“Marjorie, I’m sorry.”
She sighs heavily into the phone. “I know you told me he’s a challenging patient, but I can’t take care of someone who doesn’t want the care.”
“Please tell me you’re not quitting.”
She lowers her voice. “He’s the most foul-mouthed, ungrateful old grouch I’ve ever met. You couldn’t pay me enough to keep doing this job.”
I rest my elbow on the table and my forehead on my hand. “Yeah, I understand.”
“Look, I know you’re in a tough spot, being out of town for your job right now. I’ll stay until you get back, of course. And I’ll work a couple days after that if you really need me. I just wanted to give you as much notice as possible.”
“I appreciate that. Thank you.”
“I convinced the officer not to press charges, but he told me if it happens again, they won’t be so lenient.”
I shake my head as I imagine Uncle Dix out on my balcony taking a piss over the edge. He pushes me to my limit, but he’s family, so I’ll never turn my back on him.
“Okay.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Petrov.”
“Night.” I end the call, sigh softly and cut into my steak.
“Everything okay?” Vic asks me.
“Another nurse quit.”
“Ah, shit. So that leaves you to line another one up from the road?”
“Pretty much.”
“Dude, your uncle needs a drill sergeant, not a nurse.”
“Something like that.” I shake my head.
I finish my dinner and pay, then take an Uber back to the hotel and call my brother.
“My older, wiser brother!” His voice is too loud when he answers, which means he’s been drinking.
“Really, asshole? I need to have a serious conversation with you and you’re drunk?”
“Nah. I don’t get drunk.”
I let out an exasperated breath. “The new nurse quit.”
“Christ, Uncle Dix is a diiiiiicks.”
“Speaking of dicks…”
“Wha, me?” I hear female laughter in the background. “You love me, Anton.”
“So I guess I’ll just hire another one,” I say.
Alexei turns serious for a second. “One of these days, one of them nurses gonna sue the shit out of us.”
“Can’t say I blame ‘em. They’d win.”
“Didn’t he grab somebody’s tit once?”
I purse my lips at the memory. “He claimed it was an accident.”
Alexei laughs. “Thas right. Said her tit was flopping around and it just landed on his hand.”
“Okay, well…guess I’ll take care of this myself. Again.”
“Cool. Send him to live with me, you know? If ya want.”
“Lex, he’d die in your care.”
“Yeah, but he’d die happy.” A woman squeals in the background and Alexei laughs.
“You guys lost tonight,” I remind him. “Get your shit together and earn your money.”
“I did my part. Thompson was asleep at the post.”
“You’re a lost cause. Go get some sleep. And don’t bring any strippers to Thanksgiving dinner this year.”
“Hey, Candy was…what was it? An exotic dancer.”
“I’m hanging up, asshole.”
“Byyyyyye.”
I toss my phone on the bed and lie back. I have a sudden urge to call Mia and talk to her about this. I can’t, though. She’s working. Instead, I send a text urging her to take an Uber home tonight, and I crawl under the covers and turn off my bedside lamp.
I’m not letting Martin and Laura down. They gave me, Alexei and their daughter a great upbringing, then nursed Martin’s mom and dad through terminal illnesses. They deserve this time to travel.
I’ll try to lecture Uncle Dix, but it won’t work. It never does. That old bastard knows I can’t do anything about his outlandish behavior.
Hopefully the home health place has another nurse with nerves of steel and a high tolerance for bullshit. I’ve got a feeling it’s going to cost me more, but if it solves my Uncle Dix issues, I don’t mind.Chapter NineMiaDre’s ball bounces off my door for the hundredth time, and I pull the covers up over my head.
Fuuuuuck. I’m trying to study for finals on four hours of sleep. I go back and forth between nodding off and being woken up by the loud four-year-old playing outside my door at 8:00 a.m.
“Ee-ya, come out,” Dre says.
He can’t pronounce my name right, and I fall for the cuteness of the way he says it every time.
“Ee-ya has to study,” I tell him. “I’m sorry.”
“You make me tea.”
When Anita is making his dinner, I play with him and we make pretend tea and desserts. He always gets a huge kick out of me pretending to eat and drink our made-up creations. Anita’s too busy to have much time to play with him.