He’s clearly not done with the topic.
So, I go for the most annoying and vague response possible. “It is what it is.”
Make sense of that, I think viciously.
I feel his eyes on me but before he can say anything, my phone rings with a sharp trill, making me jump. I grapple for it in my purse and take it out. I give Dr. Greer an apologetic look. “I have to take this.”
He nods and I press the phone to my ear. “Chen, hi. I’m nearly home so I’ll just pick it up—No, put it on my tab. I’ll pay you when my paycheck comes.”
I can see Dr. Greer watching me as Chen demands why I’m asking for two servings of soup, and I rub the bridge of my nose. “I have a guest staying over. He’s not well, so one serving is for him.”
Pacifying Chen, who sounds suspicious, takes a few more minutes and by the time I end the call, I know he’ll come sniffing around to see this ‘friend’ that I’ve never brought up before.
“Your boyfriend?” Dr. Greer asks in a casual tone.
I glance at him. “No, my neighbor. He runs a Chinese place around the corner from my apartment.”
He doesn’t comment on that and considering how chatty he’s being, I half expect him to offer to check in on my ‘unwell guest’. Fortunately, it doesn’t come to that.
“You can drop me off here,” I say, as I glimpse the brightly lit restaurant in the distance. “I can—”
“You pick up what you need and I’ll drop you off at your apartment.”
“You really don’t have to,” I protest.
He gives me a stern look. “It’s late. You shouldn’t be wandering around in the dark in this sort of neighborhood.”
I feel slightly dazed at the almost ‘parental’ scolding I’m receiving, despite the fact that Dr. Greer is probably only three or four years older than me.
“O-Okay.”
I really don’t know what else to say.
He parks in front of the restaurant and I rush inside to grab the awaiting containers. Chen gives me a baffled look. “What’s your hurry?” He glances behind me toward the large windows which do not conceal the gleaming Mercedes parked right outside, and continues, “What’s with the car?”
“One of the doctors gave me a ride back home,” I tell him, hurriedly, grabbing the soup containers.
“I threw in some fried prawn tempura,” Chen calls out after me as I nearly run to the car, not wanting to impose on Dr. Greer more than I already have.
I wave over my shoulder, saying loudly, “Thanks! I owe you!”
I slide into the car, flushed and out of breath and for a second I think I see Dr. Greer’s lips twitch but when I blink, he has that same placid expression on his face. “Put on your seatbelt.”
“But my apartment is right around the corner,.” I point out.
He lifts a brow. “Safety isn’t a joke, Nurse Alexandra. Put the seatbelt on.”
I grumble under my breath, duly chastised, but move to obey him. Once the lock clicks, he throws the car into motion.
My neighborhood isn’t the best but it’s not exactly poverty stricken either. I see a few junkies hanging around the alley, minding their own business and I ignore them as I get out of the car. “Thank you for the ride. I really appreciate it.”
Dr. Greer studies me, his expression strange as if he wants to say something but can’t. Finally, he says. “I live five minutes away from here. I don’t mind giving you a ride when our shifts align.”
I have the strangest feeling that that is not what he had intended to say at all, but I shake my free hand, feeling too indebted. “That’s very kind of you but—”
“It’s convenient.” He cuts me off, and the words feel forced. “I know you go the extra mile for any patients I ask you to look after, so this will make us even.” Before I can even open my mouth, he continues. “It also conserves gas. And it makes no sense that we’re traveling the same route but using different mediums of transport.”
His logic is so sound and yet so flawed, that I don’t know what to say. I stare at him, bewildered by this sudden change in attitude.
“I—” I take in a deep breath in an attempt to get my scattered thoughts in order. “Once again, I appreciate the offer, Dr. Greer, but I can’t take you up on that.” I have to draw lines and while I can’t wrap my head around whatever this is, I can’t go around accepting favors, favors that I might not be able to pay back.
He doesn’t look very happy with my decision but nods. “Just think about it.”
I sigh, internally.
Closing the car door, I make my way to the front door of the building and when I don’t hear the silent purr of the car moving away, I look over my shoulder to see him still sitting there, a patient look on his face. Then I realize that he’s waiting for me to go in before he leaves and if that isn’t the sweetest thing a man has ever done for me, I don’t know what is. My lips curve in an involuntary smile and I lift a hand to wave at him before ducking inside and closing the door behind me.
As I check my mailbox, I wonder for a second whether he’s hitting on me but I discard the thought almost immediately. I didn’t get any vibes from him that he was interested in me. It was almost protective, his behavior.
Strange man. Sweet, though.
My lips are curved in a smile as I walk toward the steps. Suddenly, an unfamiliar ‘ding’ has me looking over and my eyes widen as I see the elevator doors, which haven’t worked for as long as I can remember, open. I recognize my young neighbor, Dan, as he steps out looking ridiculously pleased.
“Alex, check this out.” The grin on his face is wide. “Some dudes came over this afternoon and fixed up the elevator and the heating. This is so freaking awesome! I was beginning to think I would never feel my legs again.”
I stare at him. “Who—?”
He shakes his head. “I dunno, man. It was some young looking dude. Looked like he had a stick up his ass or something.”
My thoughts immediately go to Matt but why would he do something like that and how would he even be able to afford those kind of repairs or get permission?
I shake my head, both baffled and suspicious. It’s simply not possible. I watch Dan leave before stepping into the elevator. Pressing the button for my floor, I purse my lips, some of Dan’s enthusiasm leaking into me. I won’t have to climb those damned stairs anymore.
I get off at my floor and make my way to my apartment, the containers feeling heavy in my hand. Fitting my key in the lock and twisting it, I enter my apartment. I can feel the change before I see it.
The apartment isn’t cold. I step into the cramped foyer and tug off my shoes. Entering the living room, I blink, a strange feeling creeping inside of me.
The broken coffee table is no longer there. In its place is a heavy looking wooden table which is larger, and looks sleek and fancy enough for me to know that it could easily cost me more than two months of salary.
Even my couch is gone. I don’t recognize the L-shaped sofa which looks like one can sink into it. The ratty looking rug has been replaced by a deep blue furred rug on which the coffee table sits. There is a large flatscreen in place of the television, and I stare at it blankly, bewildered.