Marissa was up the whole night teething. This simple act of tiny white pearls prickling through her gums cause her and Christian much discomfort, as he didn’t get even three hours of sleep before he had to wake up for work and greet the babysitter at the door. Marissa took to a soft slumber in her swing, as Christian brewed some coffee and went upstairs to change into his suit and gel up his jet black hair. The circles under his eyes weren’t that dark, no need for cover up today, he thought. Christian smirked walking back downstairs. The cover up had been a precious gift of his once mother-in-law. She thought he needed to cover up the scar that clung around his lower chin, but Christian loved sharing that story with others and wouldn’t want to hide that beautiful scar tissue, which added character to his smooth baby face. Even though, he knew his most recent client would probably agree with his ex-mother-in-law. She was an utmost unpleasant woman, conjuring up a will. Just the thought of work could make him scowl, but the glow on Marissa’s face, as she saw him bounding down the stairs, made his day hopeful and bright.
In bed, on the opposite side of this small town, Arabella grumbled. How funny it is that the snooze button quickly becomes our best friend in the wee hours of the morning, when we’re not ready to start the day. Arabella’s curly, dark blonde hair covered her pillow, as she looked up to slam the snooze button. The temperature had dropped during the night, and she wasn’t ready to come out of her blanketed cocoon. Her heavy eyelids tried to cover her emerald green eyes, but between tiny peeks, she knew it was six o’clock. That gave her roughly thirty minutes to be presentable for work. Arabella slugged off the hefty blankets and hurriedly turned the heat back up to seventy. She threw on a pair of dark, burgundy scrubs, ready for her bathroom routine. After she relieved her bladder, she rubbed the remnants of yesterday’s make-up off and smoothed it over with a fresh layer of eyeliner and mascara. Adding more hairspray to her messy hair, she sighed. This was going to have to be good enough, as she was running on a tight schedule.
Once into work, she started her morning customary care of waking up the inhabitants of the third floor. The patients of this floor were pitiful and sometimes scary. Their family members had no other choice, but to leave them here, some willingly, others not so much. This was the world of people who could no longer take care of themselves because of unwanted happenings, brain trauma, crushed vertebra, memories lacking the ability to remember the most precious moments of life. Their families felt helpless because someone would have to be with these patients twenty-four-seven, and unless they could afford homecare, they had to drop them off in an unfamiliar place, a nursing home. A nursing home had so many negative connotations, but there was one guy who came once a week to be with his wife, who probably had no idea who he was; Arabella watched for him every Sunday. He carried their beautiful baby girl in with such care and ease. Arabella couldn’t hide the lust in her eyes for him, but she knew it would all sum up to be just a fantasy. He had no intention of turning away from his wife, no matter her condition, which made him all the more attractive.
She stepped into Mrs. Galloway’s room and opened the blinds; a little sunshine wouldn’t hurt. Grumbling could be heard from underneath the thin blanket covering the bed. She was never one to be a morning person. Arabella gently walked over and placed a hand on the blanket gently.
“Mrs. Galloway, it’s time to wake up, take your medication, and maybe have some breakfast too.”
A drowsy young woman popped her head out from under the blanket. Her strawberry, blonde hair stuck up in all kinds of directions. Her icy blue eyes looked around suspiciously. Her mind jumbled from being aroused from sleep, she slumped her head back against the mattress, groaning. Arabella smiled; Mrs. Galloway reminded her of a five year old, sweet and young.
“Lets start the day, and maybe we’ll be able to go outside if the weather permits.”
“If we can’t, can I have hot coco?” Mrs. Galloway perked right up.
“Yes, yes you may, but only if you take your medicine and eat all of your breakfast.” Arabella handed her a glass of milk and a pill.
As Mrs. Galloway frowned and dramatically took her medicine, Arabella chuckled, “Good, I’ll be back to check on you in a few.”
Mrs. Galloway’s haunting eyes traveled her out of the room; sometimes they plead that a woman was trapped inside that body, which inhabited a child in it’s current state. What Arabella caught from bits and piece of overheard conversation, Mrs. Galloway use to be stunning, a show stopper. Her strawberry blonde hair laid along her back in long luscious waves. It was soft to the touch and smelled like raspberries. She stood above average woman, at five foot eight inches tall. Her long, slender legs were toned from years of high school track. Her torso once held four muscular abs, but was lost due to her pregnancy. Her emerald eyes held strong passion for her work as a publicist.
But now, everything looked wasted away by the weeks she laid in a coma, induced by her physicians. Her pasty skin hadn’t been able to see actually sunlight and contained multiple wrinkles. Her luscious hair was chopped off and buzzed, so that the surgeons could get to her brain, to stop the bleeding. It grew back little by little, but looked like short straw, a little boys hair cut. Her movements had become unsteady, unconfident.
Arabella made her way into all thirty rooms quickly, so she could give Mrs. Galloway a trip outside before it became too cold. When she walked into her room, Mrs. Galloway had her jacket on and was sitting in the chair by the window, excitedly looking out.
“Can we go, can we?” Twisting her head as soon as she heard Arabella walk in, she asked.
“Yes, we can. Lets put your shoes on, and then we’ll be ready to do.”
Outside, Mrs. Galloway went out of her way to step on the crunchy leaves, to smell every flower fake or dying, to take in deep breaths of the fresh southern air. This essence of being a child made Arabella smiled. If everyone added a little fun and carelessness to their day, look at how much happier they would. The cons of being a child forever slowly crept into Arabella’s head, making her frown as her partner in crime declared a race back to the front doors of the nursing home.
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