The Littlest Boss

CHAPTER FOUR

DESHAWN LOUNGED BACK in a chair around the table in the conference room of the Cleaning Crew offices. He’d spent four years of his life working here. He closed his eyes and tried to put himself back in the head of the young man he’d been when he first walked in here, all those years ago. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t fit there anymore.

What those years had been, for him, was work, hard work. He’d caught a little side-eye, at first, from those who couldn’t see a man in that role. Cleaning houses? But he figured out was that there was a world of difference between just doing the job and doing the job right. You did the job if it was a good day or a bad one. If you were sore or under the weather, you pushed that to the other side of your head and kept going. You learned to see more, to notice, to take pride in that wow in the client’s eyes. Yeah. And the friends he’d made here. The family he’d made.

He felt at home. There was no other way to say it, was there? He smiled. He liked that, a lot. At home.

Sadie came in and sat beside him. He smiled at the sight of her huge cup of coffee, steam still rising. Getting between Sadie and her coffee could drop a guy into seriously dire straits.

“I miss seeing you sitting here,” she said.

“It feels strange to be here. Like seeing your bedroom from when you were a kid. It’s perfectly the same, but somehow looks and feels completely different.”

“How are you doing, DeShawn? I know you’re going to say fine, but losing out on your Army commission was a huge blow. Are you really okay?”

“I am,” he said. He slouched back in his chair, looked up and then back at her. “I know I had a vision of myself traveling the world, building things, experiencing life. It was a hard decision to make, but I’m okay. On a different path is all.”

“You can still travel.”

“I know. Stop. Recalibrate. Make a new plan. I’m good. Actually beginning to feel a Divine hand in it. I feel like I’ve come home. Like this is where I belong.”

“Good. We’re your family. You should be with us.”

“My mother called me.”

And, hell. He hadn’t meant to say that. The words just fell out of his mouth without permission. The small part of him that wasn’t stunned into silence by the unexpected announcement was amused by Sadie’s transformation. She went from relaxed and happy to momma grizzly standing over a cub.

“And?” Just one word, but a word crackling and sparking with little pops of not-so-slight hint of am-I-going-to-have-to-kill-someone around the edges.

“And I don’t know. It was completely unexpected. I don’t even know how she got my number.”

“What did she want?”

Tipping the chair back against the wall, he laced his fingers behind his head. “To tell me she’d been clean and sober for three months. Wanted to talk to me.” He shook his head, still not wanting to believe it ever happened.

Sadie put her foot on the cross rung of the chair and sent the chair back to the floor with a jarring thud. “Told you not to do that to my chairs. Clean and sober? Three months. She’s probably doing that AA step where you’re supposed to make amends to those you’ve hurt.”

He stood and pushed the chair slowly back under the table, his fingers gripping the back. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”

Sadie stood and took his hand. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs and talk.”

It was easier here. Sitting on opposite ends of the couch in the apartment Sadie had built above the office. More like he was talking to his sister than his former boss. “If she is trying to stay sober, then I’m glad for her. That’s no way to live,” he said.

“But?”

“But do I have to go back down that road with her? What’s this amends stuff? She reminds me of all the horrible things she did and said? All the times she made Momma G cry? Dragged me out the house to hide me away with her wherever she was living until...until Momma G gave her money. Money for drugs. That’s what Momma G had to give her to get me back.”

He stood and paced around the living room. It was still right there, always just below the surface. That cool exterior was thin, and all it took was the right trigger—a word, a picture in his head, the whiff of something—to snap it and release all that poison. He’d only been hiding it from himself, pretending he was over it when really, he was just ignoring it. He rubbed at his face with shaky hands and tried to slow the pounding of his heart by taking a few deep breaths.

“Then what?” he asked quietly with his back to Sadie. “I say I forgive her? And she walks away feeling happy and free? I don’t want to go back there. Mentally. Emotionally. I walked away from all that.”

He heard Sadie’s footsteps and looked down at his feet. He felt selfish. Petulant. He should be a better person than this. Sadie put her hands on his shoulders.

“No.” The word was spoken firmly. “You do not owe her that. You don’t have to put yourself through that, DeShawn. That is your right. This mess is hers. You don’t have to help her clean it up. Okay?”

He felt the anger drain away. His shoulders relaxed under her hands. “Okay,” he said, turning to face her.

“But,” she said as she looked him in the eyes.

“Of course there’s a but with you.” He tried to make it a joke. Tried to grin. Because he knew what it was and didn’t want to hear it.

“Think about it, DeShawn. Don’t dismiss it automatically. You are obviously still angry and hurt, with good reason, but that means it is still affecting you. I had to forgive my mother so I could let go of all those feelings. I’m not saying that is your answer, but think about it, okay? I love you too much to know you are hurting like this.”

That got a real smile from him. “I’ll think about it, Boss.”

“Promise?”

A clatter arose from the kitchen downstairs. Josh and Mickie were back from picking up Ian. Relief flooded him. He shouldn’t have said anything. Sadie was going to hound him until this issue was resolved. “I promise,” he said. “Let’s go see that kiddo. You have to see Josh if there is any snot on Ian’s face. It’s priceless.”

Sadie scowled. “Ew. Snot? There better not be snot.”

* * *

PEEKING DOWN THE HALL, Tiana felt a sense of walking on eggshells. People were either sitting quietly or doing busywork. No one was acknowledging the truth: there were only two patients in the entire ER. A laceration that needed stitches and a migraine. Even for a Sunday night, this was unprecedented. No one dared to utter a word lest the magical spell be broken and an avalanche of critical patients buried them.

Stepping into Bay Six, Tiana pushed the cart she’d loaded with supplies to the cabinets. Shaking her head impatiently, she began restocking supply drawers. Yeah, it was nice to have a break, but dang! Without the constant flow of adrenaline, her body began to remind her it was two in the morning. Eyelids were heavy. Head all muffled. Thoughts of how much she loved her pillow. It was a great pillow. She missed it right now.

Kasey Rattigan twirled around in the room’s chair, her ponytail swinging from side to side. “Tell me something,” she said.

Kasey was her preceptor in the emergency department. Smart, tough, fearless and in possession of a sense of a wicked and black humor, she and Tiana had bonded over a particularly heinous code brown.

“What?”

“I don’t know. Something interesting.”

Tiana snorted out a laugh. “There is nothing remotely interesting in my life,” she said, stacking packages of sterile gauze. “I work, I sleep, I eat.”

“Let’s take the girls to the Children’s Museum this week.”

Moving on to the cabinets, Tiana checked the supply list. Needs more pulse oximeters. EKG leads. What about this DeShawn thing?

“Earth to Tiana!”

“Hmm?”

Kasey brought the chair to a sudden halt and stood up. “Whoa!” she said, grabbing at the counter. “Dizzy. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. I’m trying to memorize what’s in the cabinets.”

“You aren’t memorizing anything at two a.m. Save that for day brain. You keep zoning out. What’s on your mind? I’m your preceptor—you have to tell me.”

Tiana closed the cabinet drawers. Kasey was right. Her brain was passing the information through with zero storage. “It’s not a work thing.”

“Then as your newest best friend, you have to tell me.”

“It’s nothing really. I got this offer to do this...thing.”

Kasey’s eyebrows disappeared into her bangs. “Oh,” she said, each word dripping the sarcasm. “An offer. For a thing. Wow.”

Tiana leaned against the counter and looked around the bay. The more she’d thought about DeShawn’s project, the more she wanted to do it. But it came with DeShawn. And she couldn’t deny that their playful bickering was cover for some real attraction. At least on her part.

Kasey returned to the chair, this time flopping back in it with her arms hanging over the sides and her head lolling on the back. “Tell me,” she whined. “Before I say the b word!”

Tiana laughed but a flash of superstitious fear that jolted through her overruled the laughter. The b word was bored. It was worse than uttering the q word: quiet. To speak either of those words aloud would bring disaster raining down upon any nurse foolish enough to say them. She hooked the rolling stool with a foot, pulled it toward her and sat.

“I got asked to be part of a group to speak at a school. It’s a rural school with disadvantaged students. They are looking for speakers from similar backgrounds who’ve graduated college.”

Kasey sat up straight in the chair. “I didn’t know that was your background.”

“Small town. Crappy school system. Yep. That’s me.”

“So, you’d be perfect for this group. Why the hesitation?”

Making a face, Tiana began to swivel the stool from side to side. “The guy who’s putting it together...”

“Wait.” Kasey pushed off with her feet, sending her chair rolling toward Tiana’s stool. Their knees crashed together. “A guy? Tell me about this guy.”

“Nothing to tell,” Tiana said, even as the heat of her blush stung her cheeks. “I met him last year.”

“If there’s nothing to tell, why are you blushing?”

“It’s really nothing. There’s just this...like...chemistry there.”

“Chemistry? How horrible!” Kasey said, putting her hands to her cheeks.

“It’s not horrible. It’s just not what I need in my life right now.”

“Bullsheeeet.” Kasey sang out. “You could use a man in your life. Break up that work, sleep, eat routine you’ve got going on. Tell me about Mr. Chemistry.”

Tiana stood and walked to the bay door. Glancing down the hall, she saw everyone was still milling around or sitting at the nurses’ station. She pulled sliding glass door of the room almost shut and turned to look at Kasey. “I have to be careful,” she said as she went back to her stool.

“Of what?”

“Lily. I was seventeen when I got pregnant with her. Her dad and I tried to make it work, but we were so young. We wanted different things. He tried at first. But as Lily got older, he came around less and less until he finally just disappeared from our lives. Lily was old enough to know that her daddy left her.”

Kasey’s hands closed around Tiana’s with a gentle squeeze. “So you can’t have men coming and going from her life.”

Feeling her shoulders relax, Tiana nodded. She’d known Kasey would understand. “Exactly. I don’t know how to navigate that minefield.”

“And an explosion could hurt Lily. As your friend, I understand. As your preceptor, I’m going to tell you to seriously think about it though. Management eats that stuff up with a spoon. It would look amazing on your postorientation evaluation that you participated in a project like that. Mr. Chemistry or not.”

“Thanks,” Tiana said, her eyes glazing. “That makes the decision so much more easy.”

“Just do it.” Kasey glanced up at the clock and made a celebratory pumping motion with her first. “Woot! It’s two thirty! Only thirty minutes left on our shift!”

Tiana closed her eyes and silently counted backward. Did Kasey really just jinx it? Every nurse knows that you never, ever...

She was cut off by the sounding of an alarm, the incoming trauma alarm. Jumping to her feet, Tiana headed for the door with Kasey close behind her.

“This is all your fault, you know,” Tiana said as they joined the others in preparing for the ambulance’s arrival.

Kasey said nothing, but from the expression on her face, she didn’t have to.

* * *

“LENA? SADIE’S ACCOUNTANT LENA?” Malik took a step back but his eyes shone with interest. A mixed of fear and admiration ran through those four short words.

DeShawn laughed as they leaned against the side of his car in the parking lot of a strip mall along Savannah Highway, not far from 526. He’d talked to both Henry and Lena about his idea. They’d both been on board. Malik, a former Cleaning Crew member, was now in medical school, was his best friend and first recruit. He could feel a not-so-small sting of disappointment. He hadn’t heard anything from Tiana. “Yeah. She’s driving. Refused to pick us up at the apartment.”

“So this is why I’m standing in the cold on the side of the road, waiting? Instead of being in my warm bed?” Malik asked.

“She’s got a BMW. Unless you want to risk a hundred miles in my death rattle mobile? When it gives out, we could kick our feet through the floorboards and drive it Fred Flintstone style.”

Malik rubbed his hands together. “No, hard pass on that. I’ll take the BMW. Huh. Get a little comparison shopping in for when I’m a rich doctor.”

He closed his eyes, spread his arms wide and tilted his head up toward the sky. “What’s that you say, Mr. Car Dealer Man? Do I want this full custom package in Smoked Topaz or Silverstone? How about one of each, two sets of 444 horses side by side...”

“Uh-huh,” DeShawn said. “Didn’t you say you wanted to be a family practice doctor in an underserved area?”

Malik shook his head, still in his daydream. “You know, at this exact moment in time, I do not recall making that statement.”

“Ha!” DeShawn said. “You’ll see.”

A white BMW pulled into the parking lot and came to a quick stop beside them. The window powered down and Lena Reyes looked at them over the rims of her sunglasses. “Get in. Don’t track dirt.”

“Hi, Lena. Nice to see you again,” DeShawn said with a laugh.

“Get in, it’s cold.”

The window powered back up. DeShawn climbed into the front passenger seat, grinning. Lena liked to play tough but she was a softy when it came to kids. Mention poor kids and she opened her wallet and her heart.

She glanced at Malik as he got in the back seat. “Hi, Malik. Good to see you. How’s school going?”

“Great. Thanks.”

“So, DeShawn,” Lena said as she turned the car back onto Savannah Highway, heading south. “What is your goal, your vision for this project?”

The question startled him. “Uh,” he stammered. When he started thinking about it, he realized that he hadn’t really thought it all the way through. “I thought we could talk to the kids about our experiences. Show them that it can be done. Help them find resources.”

She nodded. “That’s a good start, but I think you’ve got something here that you can turn into a long-term project.”

“How?”

She grinned at him. “That’s for you to figure out. This is your idea, DeShawn. You want to help these kids? They need more than a parade of people lecturing them.”

That’s when the first wave of doubt soaked him. He tried to keep it off of his face, but inside, his mind was checking off all the boxes he hadn’t even noticed were on the list. Lena was right. She had that way of laying truth out flat in front of you. This was going to have to be more. Much more. The idea seemed so good when he was talking with Sadie. Inspire the kids. Point them in the right direction. But Momma G hadn’t just pointed off toward some picturesque horizon and made a nice speech. She’d been there, day after day, doing the hard work. Being a consistent model of goodness in his early, troubled life.

These kids were real people with real problems and real day to day needs. And having hope in the first place was to start hoping and then have it snatched away. To believe that this time, someone was going to actually keep a promise. He’d been there, done that too many times with his own parents. He began to consider the true depth of the waters he was diving into.

This wasn’t a weekend project. This was a commitment.

Malik reached over the seat to clap his hand against DeShawn’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine,” Malik said. “He’s an engineer. Solving problems is what he does.” He looked at DeShawn. “You got this.”

The doubt dialed down a few clicks. It wasn’t that he didn’t have a plan at all. He simply had insufficient data to make a comprehensive one. “We’ll talk to Henry,” he said. “Find out what the needs are and go from there.”

“That’s good,” Lena agreed. “Build the program around the kids. That’s how it should be.”

Charleston stretched out a while longer as they motored down 17 South. There was a long patch of green space, especially around the USDA lab, but really it kept that west of the Ashley vibe all the way up to the intersection of 17 and Main Road, where you could take a left and go high up in the sky on the new bridge over the Stono and get a breathtaking view of Johns Island. That’s usually how DeShawn saw it in the ever shifting map of the greater Charleston area he kept in his head. But they weren’t going to Johns Island today. No Stono Market or Tomato Shed Cafe, sad to say. Nope. Today was all a steady straight drive past the tractor supply places and you-pick berry farms that meant you were easing through Ravenel.

Lena put the pedal down as the road opened up and there was nothing but trees whizzing by on both sides, the car riding as smooth as silk. It was peaceful. He even let himself close his eyes for a while, just breathe the clean air and feel...good.

Don’t overthink it, he thought. Just go with it. Like she said. Build the program. Let it go the way it wants to go. What the kids need.

After some time of just watching the trees, he heard Malik muttering, “Gonna change to surgery. Get me one of these.”

DeShawn laughed, then cautioned Lena as they crossed the Edisto River that it was wise to tap the brakes a few times before entering historic Jacksonboro. That was a stretch of road where the constabulary liked to keep an eye and Radar out for southbound motorists in a little too much of a hurry to get to Beaufort or Savannah.

“Hm,” she said, slowing down. She looked around. “We’re good on gas. Do either of you need to stop for anything? Last civilization for a few miles at least.” She nodded toward the gas station at the fork where you could either cut north up into Walterboro or keep south along the ACE Basin Parkway.

“I’m good,” DeShawn said.

“Good,” Malik said.

They kept south.

“Do you know where this place is?” DeShawn asked. Once you were in the ACE Basin, the world just opened up, bursting with blue skies above, lush green all around, vast tea-brown waters snaking beneath the bridges. It was beautiful. An almost pristine estuary, one of the largest on the Eastern seaboard, pretty much undeveloped save for the highway they were traveling down.

“Nope,” Lena said with a wave of her hand. “Following GPS.”

About a dozen miles from I-95, DeShawn pointed up ahead to a dark, dragonesque shape in the marsh grass. “Is that a gator?” he asked.

“In February?” Lena said. “I don’t think so.”

“South Carolina Lizard Man, more likely,” Malik said.

“What?” DeShawn and Lena asked in unison.

It turned out to be a long curl of thrown-off truck tire, twisted up like a burnt cruller.

“You two hush up with your horror movie stuff,” Lena said. “I’m driving here.”

DeShawn looked back. “That’s a really big tire, though. That can’t have been good, when that thing blew.”

“Lizard Man’s a real thing,” Malik said. Lena’s eyes caught him in the rearview mirror. He shrugged. “Seriously. He lurks around in the swamps and tidal creeks, occasionally stumbles upon family picnics and hilarity ensues. What? You guys never saw that TV ad?”

Lena smirked. “Lurks,” she said, tasting the word. “Sounds like one of the charmers my family tried to hook me up with last year.”

DeShawn looked out the window and whistled. Lena laughed. “Relax,” she said. “It’s not far now.”

And she was right. They kept motoring down the big roads for a while longer, then took an exit to a smaller road, then turned off again. Farm houses with single grain silos, sun-faded barns. Another turn, this time onto a bumpy winding road where they drove past small houses ringed by clusters of mobile homes. Finally, they found themselves on a small-town main street. It was almost as if it was secreted away in the green, one of those Southern towns that had once been part of something—farming, textiles, trade—but were left behind and forgotten about in the wake of the great global industrial machine. Lena pulled into a small lot next to a neat red brick building, with only the words County School above the door.

“This is where Henry arranged for the meeting,” Lena said as they got out of the car. The lawn was brown and patchy beneath their feet in the relative cold of the South Carolina winter. DeShawn noticed that the paint was peeling and cracked. As they made their way inside, he had a strange feeling of déjà vu. The floor was clean but old. The ceiling tiles were sagging in places. The desks in the classrooms they passed looked like they were left over from the sixties.