Leaving Normal Stef Holm (classic literature books TXT) 📖

"No toilets and no refrigerators." Tony accelerated, his hands firm on the driver's wheel. "I'm not hitting anything but smooth pavement all the way into the garage."

And true to his word, that's exactly how Tony brought E-13—Lucky Engine 13—into quarters.

The veterans' home was decorated for Valentine's Day. Red heart garlands hung from the hallway handrails, and shiny foil cupids were tacked to the wall with pushpins. Big-band music played through the sound system, a tune that Fred Miller hummed as he walked alongside Natalie, pushing a cart filled with buckets of mixed flowers.

The staff at the nursing station at the front entrance greeted them.

"We're ready for you. The men are so excited," a nurse wearing a daisy-print smock said. "Do you need any help getting the flowers to the recreation room?"

"No," Natalie replied. "I brought my dad to help me."

They rolled the cart down the hallway, following the nurse as she led the way.

Natalie had volunteered to show the residents how to put together a simple floral arrangement for their lady friends, wives or any female family members and acquaintances.

The activity was a good way for Natalie to get out of the shop—and a very well-timed outing that she'd looked forward to. She needed some space today. She'd gone into her office this morning and punched the answering machine's blinking light with a feeling of dread. Sure enough, Jonathon Falco had had the audacity leave her a message, stating his confusion over her disappearance—as if he couldn't have a clue as to why she'd fled! He called once more later in the morning and she'd spoken curtly to him, asking him not to call her again. Then she hung up.

The stress of those calls had kept Natalie distracted and took away from her earlier preoccupation with Tony Cruz.

She hadn't been able to thank him for the arrangement he'd left for her. She'd knocked on his door early this morning, her heartbeat racing a mile a minute. When he didn't answer, she figured he was working today and had already left. She didn't have his phone number to call and thank him because he wasn't listed in the phone book. She'd have to try and catch him tomorrow.

"Where do you want these, Natalie?" her dad asked.

"Right there along that wall would be great."

The large room was filled with chairs and about ten patients. They wore varying degrees of clothing. Some in gowns and others fully dressed. One man wore a suit and tie. He wasn't in a wheelchair like some of his counterparts; rather, a normal chair. Wrinkled and weathered, he looked very old, but he wasn't shaky or sickly-like in appearance.

"Most of these guys have short attention spans," he commented as they passed him. "You better talk fast and repeat yourself."

She grinned. "I'll do my best."

He smiled in return, a great smile that was infectious. His eyes were pale blue, the irises little dots of black.

"I don't suppose you know Dr. Cooper?" he asked.

"Urn, no."

"He performed surgery on me. My ticker is still going strong. I used to be in the lumberjack business up in Idaho City."

"That's nice."

He gazed at the bald man who'd rolled up beside him. "Hi, Ralph." Then to the male nurse, "Did you get his Lap Buddy on securely? Last time he got up he fell on me."

"It's snug, Maynard. Double-checked."

"Good. I'll hold you to that."

Ralph began to sing with the Muzak playing throughout the room and Maynard made a face. "I wouldn't mind him if he sang on key," he said to Natalie, then to the man beside him, "Ralph, you couldn't carry a tune if it came in your coat pocket."

Grumbling, Ralph sang louder.

Fred nudged Natalie and whispered, "Why'd you have to volunteer to come here? These men are old. They're making me feel every year of my retirement."

"Because they need people to come in and make them feel better."

"At the expense of making me feel worse?" Fred quibbled. "It smells like old man in here and it's making me nervous."

"It does not. That's room freshener."

"To disguise the real smell."

Natalie rolled her eyes. Her dad could be cantankerous sometimes. He really needed to find other interests, pursue something that was out of his comfort zone. Namely, she'd like him to consider finding a woman friend. He had a lot to offer and she had always thought it a shame that he hadn't expressed any interest in female company.

Ralph stopped his singing, gazed pointedly at Natalie and in a very calm tone asked, "Do you think you can get me some Viagra?"

Before she could respond, Maynard was butting in. "Ralph, quit asking every visitor that question. They aren't getting you any sex pills."

Fred frowned, his face clearly indicating that he wished he could leave right now.

All these old men in here were making him aware he was no longer in his prime.

Natalie went with the head nurse to get something and Fred was left alone by the flower cart.

Ralph asked, "Have you had any operations?"

"Nothing to write home about," Fred supplied tightly, recalling the vasectomy he'd had in his thirties.

Not letting up on his interrogation, Ralph's next question threw Fred for a wallop. "Any penile implants?"

"Hell, no."

Ralph laughed. "Your secret is safe with me because I won't remember it tomorrow, anyway."

Maynard cut in, his disgust evident in the abrupt way he rose to his spindly legs. His suit appeared to be a size too large; it hung on him. "Ralph, you're embarrassing yourself and you're too lame-headed to even know it."

Getting behind the wheelchair, Maynard rolled Ralph to the back of the room, then came back and took his seat. "That's what happens when you let them put you on that dang cholesterol reduction pill. I take an aspirin a day and they want me on some other things, but I told the doctor here to go screw himself."

Fred started, unprepared for the crass comment from a spry geezer who had presented himself as fairly polished.

Intrigued by the