Origami Heart (Book 3 - DP series - COMPLETE)

6. Butterflies

       

Photo above: Jessie (cuz I don't think any of you ladies mind looking at him. lol)

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Dressed and ready for another week of work, I drop Haley off with her caregiver and head to the clinic. I spent much of the weekend thinking about Friday night and the events that took place. From Mike's drunken behavior, to his kiss, to Jessie showing up. Looking back, I'm not sure how I made it through all that in one piece.

Maybe I'm overly sensitive. Maybe most people wouldn't have had the slightest problem spending the evening with two of their exes. Maybe others would be able to see past their mistakes and bitterness without a problem. Apparently, I'm not one of those people because I haven't been able to shut my mind up about it since.

I'm both aching for a repeat of the moment Mike and I shared and dreading the moment I have to see him again. Would he even acknowledge my text if I were to send him one? Does he even have the same number? It's been so long since I've even bothered glancing at his name in my contacts that it'd feel weird seeking it out amongst all the other names.

Checking in the last patient for the morning, I grab my purse and head up to the staff lunch room. I decided to bring a PB&J with me today, too lazy to bother with anything else. Dropping a few coins into the vending machine, I punch the blue button and watch a Pepsi drop into the pocket. Settling into one of the many empty seats, I pop the tab and take a drink.

It's actually quite lonely up here. I'm usually alone on my lunch breaks because I get the hour off before everyone else so that I can be back in time to check in the afternoon patients. So, rather than converse with real people, I typically munch in silence while watching pointless videos on Youtube. I went to college for teaching and somehow ended up here. Back in those days, I had the motivation to pursue that dream, but over time, that dream faded. Now I'm just taking each day at a time and wondering when my life will finally bloom into the beautiful, wondrous life I've always dreamed of.

But I'm not stupid. I know why it's not in a place I want it to be. It's because I've lost my spark. My drive for success is flickering out. If I'm not careful I'll just be floundering around in the dark—hopeless, lonely and lost.

Shuffling back to my desk, I'm greeted by the assistance bell outside. We've got a special doorbell at the clinic entrance for people to press if they need help. Since no one else is around at the moment, that job goes to me. Pushing my chair back, I head to the front to see a van with a wheelchair ramp as it lowers to the ground.

"Hi," the driver greets, turning toward me as I approach.

"Need me to hold open the door?" I ask, hoping that's all he requires of me.

"Yes, please," is his distracted response.

Then I watch as our patient, Mr. Robbins, struggles to wheel himself slowly and carefully down the wheelchair ramp. I swear this man is bigger every time I see him. And I don't mean big as in big. I mean big as in big! He's at least five-hundred pounds over weight. He had a severely traumatic childhood and has eaten himself into a state of drastic physical impairment. He can walk, but the amount of pressure it puts on his knees has already cost him one knee replacement and he's not even out of his forties yet.

I only know these details because I have partial access to his medical records. I also know some of Mike's history, but the gritty details are confidential. Guess the job of simple receptionist doesn't qualify me for those juicy details... not that I'd snoop anyway. I respect Mike way too much to do something like that.

Pushing the door open, I press myself against the narrow hallway to make room for Mr. Robbins to pass through. It's quite a squeeze and the raised metal threshold that runs along the floor beneath the door offers somewhat of a speed bump to pass over. Unfortunately for me, the man pushing the wheelchair has to put a significant amount of strength into shoving the wheelchair over the barrier, ultimately running over my toes in the process. The worst part is that the driver is so preoccupied with steadying the wheelchair that he doesn't even notice. Why this guy hasn't requested a motorized wheelchair yet is beyond me.