Taylor spent the day touring Ferndale Woods with
Rory. There were 25 residents in the facility, a mix of widows, widowers and couples. Taylor tried not to feel saddened by these people who had gotten too old to live in their own homes.
Taylor was particularly taken with an elderly couple, Molly and Frank. They had been married for close to 60 years, and had recently sold their home and moved to Ferndale Woods.
They were in their mid-80s, and Taylor was heartened by the sparkle in their eyes and their obvious love for one another. Most of the residents of Ferndale Woods were quite spry, considering the majority of them were in their 80s and 90s.
As four o’clock approached, Taylor decided he had to go.
“I need to fly,” he said.
Rory cocked her head. “Hot date?”
Taylor grinned. “If you consider a room full of recovering addicts hot. I’m going to Narcotics Anonymous.”
Rory raised her eyebrows. “Really,” she said. “So you’re serious about kicking this habit?”
Taylor furrowed his brow. “Yes,” he said. “I told you that earlier. I have a career and a family, Rory. This thing almost ruined my life and could very well have killed me. I’m not an idiot. I know I could have lost everything. Don’t think for a second that I thought I was owed this second chance. I’m well aware of how lucky I was to get it.”
Rory nodded. “Okay, well, when will we see you again?”
“I’d like to come back tomorrow and really start doing something,” Taylor said.
“Fine,” Rory said. “Can you be here at lunch time?”
Taylor nodded. “Absolutely.”
Taylor thought about Rory all the way to his meeting. He was disturbed that she was so down on him.
After his meeting, Taylor returned to his apartment. He looked around in amazement.
Taylor’s apartment was normally a complete mess. There were always days’ worth of dirty dishes stacked in the sink, dirty clothes flung everywhere, stacks of mail on every available shelf or table and fast food wrappers strewn about.
But now, someone had obviously cleaned up the messes. Two stacks of clean clothes sat neatly on the dryer, which was in the entry hall. The normally grungy floor in the entryway had been mopped and was as shiny as it had been the day Taylor had moved in.
Taylor walked into the living room. All the furniture had been dusted and polished. There wasn’t a stray paper anywhere, and the smell of Carpet Fresh was evident. Fresh vacuum cleaner tracks in the dark brown pile carpeting alerted Taylor that someone had swept the floor.
Taylor wandered down the hall. All the fixtures in the bathroom were sparkling. The shower curtain, which was normally closed to hide the grimy tub, had been washed, and was now open to reveal the shiny white bathtub. The floor was spotless, and a set of two matching towels hung on the towel rack.
Taylor poked his head in his bedroom door. There wasn’t a stitch of dirty clothing anywhere. His big brass bed with the black silk comforter was made. Upon inspection of Zac’s room, which used to be Taylor’s “junk room,” Taylor discovered it was equally as spotless.
Taylor walked into the kitchen, where Zac was busily preparing dinner. There wasn’t so much as a spoon in the sink. The stove, counter and refrigerator were sparkling clean, and the floor was shiny.
“What the hell happened here?” Taylor asked.
Zac grinned as he chopped up a head of lettuce and tossed it in a big salad bowl. “Three little cleaning fairies descended this afternoon after school.”
Taylor smiled. “Were their names Jessica, Avery and Iris?”
“Didn’t catch their names,” Zac said coyly. “They might have been.”
Zac pulled a pan of lasagna out of the oven.
“Whoa,” Taylor said. “You cooked?”
Zac pulled a sarcastic face. “What are you, kidding me?” he said. “Taryn brought it over when she picked up the girls. I’m just warming it up.”
“Ah,” Taylor said. “That makes more sense.”
Taylor pulled out plates and silverware and set the table, and he and Zac sat down to eat.
“So,” Zac said, pulling a cheesy piece of lasagna from the pan and plopping it on Taylor’s plate, “How was your day?”
Taylor chuckled. “I feel like we’re married.”
Zac smiled.
“It was okay,” Taylor said. “I like my probation officer. And I think I’m going to like the place where I have to do my community service, even though the chick who runs the place is a complete wench who’s going to be breathing down my neck waiting for me to screw up.”
Zac took a big bite of lasagna. “Your boss is a girl?”
Taylor nodded. “A girl without much use for me, I might add.”
Zac cocked his head. “What did she say?”
“She pretty much let me know that I’m a big nobody at Ferndale Woods. She figured I’d waltz in there expecting to have to do nothing,” Taylor said.
“What are you going to do there?” Zac asked.
“I’m not really sure,” Taylor said. “But I hope I get to work a lot with the residents. I met most of them today. I think I’m really going to dig working with the old people.”
Zac nodded. “Cool,” he said. “That way you can show the bitchy girl what you’re made of.”
“That’s my plan,” Taylor said with a smile.
Zac and Taylor ate in contented silence for a few minutes.
“I called Maeve today,” Zac said out of the blue.
“Really?” Taylor asked. “How was that?”
“Weird,” Zac said. “But good, I think. She’s coming home this weekend and we’re getting together.”
“What made you decide to do that?” Taylor asked.
“You,” Zac replied.
Taylor cocked his head. “How’s that?”
“This whole thing with you has made me realize that opportunities are fleeting,” Zac said. “I want to live for the moment, and I want Maeve.”
Taylor nodded in admiration. “Cool.” Taylor looked down at his plate. “Did you tell her what was going on with me?”
Zac shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “It was nothing I wanted to get into over the phone.”
“It’s okay if you tell her,” Taylor said. “She’s probably going to wonder why we’re all of a sudden bunking together.”
Zac nodded. “I will.”
Taylor smiled at his brother. “I think we’re all going to be okay,” he said. “For the first time in a long time, the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t an oncoming train.”
That night, Taylor lay in bed. He was doing better during the day, but the nights were still difficult. He began to shake and feel the slightest bit paranoid. His heart began to race.
It’s okay, Taylor, he thought to himself, trying to slow his rapid breathing and talk himself down from the emotional ledge. You don’t need drugs. You don’t. Think of spending two years in jail Think of what that would do to your mother.
Taylor flipped from his back to his stomach. He knew he wanted a line, and he wanted it bad. He picked up the phone and called his N.A. sponsor.
After Taylor had talked to his sponsor for well over an hour, he felt much better. He was also very tired by that time, and he knew that it would be easier for him to sleep.
Taylor curled into a fetal position, trying to ignore the nausea that had yet to completely settle. He thought for a moment that he was going to throw up, but he talked himself out of it.
He leaned over his bed and pulled Clara’s feel-better bear from underneath it. He chuckled to himself as he clutched the stuffed animal to his chest.
“Let’s see how well you really work, Arthur,” he said.
