Tipsy

Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Hallie

A single blue balloon hung from the next doorway of my rounds. It was early, but women at the nursing home's front desk always made sure one was placed on each of the resident's doors for special occasions. Elderly patients especially loved having everyone to stop in and greet them on a birthday or anniversary. Some patients went weeks and months with no one to visit. Some had no visitors at all. And that always seemed to be the case for Harold.

With a splash of hand sanitizer from the dispenser beside the door, I entered his room, finding him being extra ornery today. His bed table was all the way across the room—shoved no doubt, judging by the spilled orange juice all over it and the floor. The birthday boy didn't greet me as I wiped up the mess with a towel and took the seat beside him. Instead, he sat with his arms crossed, watching the weather as if it would affect anything about his day in here.

"Didn't enjoy the quiche?" I asked, seeing he hadn't taken a single bite of it.

"The quiche here sucks."

All the food here sucked, according to him. I found it perfectly acceptable. Compared to the crap I ate as a foster child; it was practically a luxury. I couldn't stomach potato smiles or canned spaghetti to this day. But I realized he was in the same rut. The same food was being served weekly, and when you've been here for months, it likely grew tiring.

"What would you like to do for your birthday?" I asked, hoping to bring him out of his rut.

"To be left alone."

"No can do."

"Blondie..."

"You're stuck with me." I crossed my arms and pouted the same way Harold did. I made myself damn comfy in his guest chair. My shift was ending soon, but I had enough homework and updates for my blog that I could sit in this room all day. And it had just become my plan.

He didn't like it, but he accepted it. Harold passed me the remote to his television. "Find me baseball."

That I could do. As I scanned the channels, a few different nurses and other staff members poked their heads into the room to greet the birthday boy. I had to admit; I got the best reaction out of him than anyone. Everyone else was told to fuck off or go away. That's when I decided the blue balloon needed to find its way into the trash. But someone else had the same idea first.

Clint entered the room, holding Harold's balloon. It was time for Harold's physical therapy. "I was told not to wish you a happy birthday," he said. "Otherwise my life would be threatened. So I thought maybe we should ditch the balloon and pretend it's a normal day."

Harold hmphed.

With a temporary babysitter for Harold, I excused myself from the room. I had a very important text to send, and it was time sensitive.

***

Harold was true to his word that he wanted to do nothing but watch a channel dedicated to baseball statistics. If it wouldn't have been for my blog, I would have been bored with tears. I couldn't believe I was writing about a threesome. It had been days since Mikah and I had used the sexy blonde I'd found while dancing. Now, I was recalling the details and documenting her the same way I would a vibrator we'd use. Then, I updated my buck list, crossing off a threesome and sex with another female.

It was crazy to see just how many line items were now crossed off, and every day I was finding new ones to add. Some silly comment Mikah would make, or a simple joke, would lead to us having new kinks and new things we vowed to try on one another. We watched porn together as if we were binging Real Housewives, and usually that led to us fucking too.