“Of course I tried, Cole. I invited her to lunch several times, but she was quite rude to me every time I called. You’re better off without someone like that in your life. I told you that the day I looked into her file at the hospital,” she reminds me.
I clench my jaw so hard I’m afraid I might crack a few teeth. Being the administrator at the hospital where Olivia worked, my mother had complete access to her personnel file and thought she was doing me a favor by pulling Olivia’s records and informing me how little income she had coming in. According to my mother, this was surely proof that Olivia was only with me because she knew I had more money than I would ever spend in my lifetime.
“I appreciate you letting me stay here while I heal, but if you say one more negative thing about Olivia, we’re done here. You know how I feel about her and, if you want to be part of my life, you will respect that.”
The haughty look on my mother’s face quickly disappears as she nervously fiddles with her wedding ring and gives me a small smile. “I’m sorry, Cole, I just worry about you and your sister. Neither one of you seem to understand just how easy it is for someone to take advantage of you because of your money. Caroline practically hands out blank checks to every man she says hello to.”
Like her ears were burning, a knock sounds at the door before it’s slowly pushed open and Caroline appears in the doorway.
“Doing some redecorating, Cole? The shards of glass remind me of an early Jackson Pollock. Very nice,” Caroline says with a laugh as she stares down at the broken vase.
At twenty-eight-years-old, Caroline is seven years my junior and one of my best friends. She’s also a huge thorn in my mother’s side because of her cavalier attitude toward men and life in general. After our parents had me, my mother spent years trying to get pregnant again, losing one pregnancy after another. Part of me thinks that’s reason she behaves the way she does. No one can go through life with that much loss and come out the other side unscathed. It’s the main reason why I continue to forgive her for her constant interference in my life. After her fifth miscarriage, my father put his foot down and they decided to adopt my sister. My mother spent years trying to mold Caroline into an exact replica of herself, forcing her to take etiquette classes and enrolling her in the most expensive private schools in the country. After she was kicked out of the seventh school for getting half the senior class drunk on homemade sangria, my mother finally gave up. Caroline lives to piss off our mother and she’s the only reason I didn’t write my entire family off years ago.
“I was going for abstract expressionism,” I tell Caroline with a smile. “Nailed it.”
My mother rolls her eyes as she checks her Cartier watch. “I have a board meeting I’m going to be late for. I’ll check in on you later.”
Caroline and I stay quiet until the door clicks shut behind her and then we both burst out laughing. The oppressive tension always present when my mother is in the vicinity quickly leaves my body and I relax into the cushions of the couch.
“God, she’s such a bitch. Remind me again why we put up with her?” Caroline asks as she joins me on the couch.
“Because she’s our mother and we have to,” I deadpan.
“How’s the knee?”
I wrap my hands around my thigh and pull my bum leg up to rest my foot on the coffee table in front of me, not bothering to try and hide the wince of pain. Today is the first day I’ve been able to get out of bed without the help of a nurse, but moving from the bedroom to the living room on my own exhausted me.
“Hurts like a mother fucker,” I tell her as we both stare at the post-op knee brace that goes from mid-thigh to mid-calf on my right leg.
“Well, your new nurse will be here tomorrow morning to get you back into tip top shape. Can you please try not to make this one cry? It’s becoming difficult to explain to the temp agency every week why another of their nurses couldn’t hack your charming personality,” Caroline scolds.
I give Caroline an apologetic look and shrug my shoulders. “Did you tell them to stop sending me toddlers fresh out of nursing school? It’s not my fault they can’t handle a little bad language when I get pissed off.”
“Cole, you called the last one a pushy bitch and told her to go fuck herself when she tried to help you take a shower,” she reminds me.
“Exactly. I’m perfectly capable of washing my own ass. I’ve been doing it unassisted for years.”
She shakes her head at me, patting the thigh of my good leg. “Can you just promise me that you won’t throw anything at this one? When I called that woman to apologize, all I could hear through the line was wailing.”
“She wanted me to take a piss in a bed pan. A fucking bed pan, Caroline. It’s not my fault she had slow reflexes and it almost hit her in the shoulder.”
Listening to my sister remind me of the way I’ve behaved the last two weeks should make me feel bad, but it doesn’t. I’m a Goddamn Navy SEAL. I’ve been to war, I’ve taken down men twice my size and I’ve carried injured members of my team for miles through the harshest of conditions while bullets rained down around me. Being confined to a bed for three months and not being able to even get up to take a piss pushed me over the edge.
Caroline raises her eyebrow at me and I sigh heavily. “Fine. I promise not to yell or throw things this time.”
I just need to keep reminding myself that all of this bullshit is going to be worth it in the end. Once I’m able to walk on my own two feet without the help of crutches, I can concentrate on getting my girl back. It doesn’t escape my attention that I’m spending all of this time away so I can stand tall in front of her.