glance, he checked the GPS and shook his head. “That’s Mr. Charles’ assisted living. I wonder if it’s him again.”
They quickly made it to the facility and, sure enough, walked into Mr. Charles’ room, finding him on the floor again with the CNA hovering nearby. The elderly man’s face held a blush, although with his paper-thin skin, Rory wanted to make sure it was due to just embarrassment.
“Let’s get you off the floor and checked out, Mr. Charles.”
“I’m so sorry she had to call you,” the elderly man said. “I was trying to get from my comfy chair to the wheelchair but got my feet tangled up.”
Mr. Charles was in no pain, and they checked his hips, back, neck, arms, and legs. “Looks like everything’s all working.” Rory also checked his pulse and blood pressure, finding them normal as well before he and Shania assisted him to stand, then asked, “Did you want to be in your comfy chair or the wheelchair?”
Mr. Charles blushed again and muttered, “I was going to go to the bathroom. I could do it by myself.”
“Mr. Charles, you know you’re supposed to call one of us,” the CNA said softly, with a touch of authority.
He looked up toward Rory and said, “It ain’t easy getting older. It robs us all of our dignity.”
He smiled toward the older man and patted his shoulder. “Well, I’ll tell you what. If you still need to go, I’m here and don’t mind helping.”
Mr. Charles nodded and said, “I don’t mind taking you up on that if you’re sure.”
Rory assisted the elder into his bathroom, helping him to finish his business while maintaining his dignity. Rolling him back to the others, he observed Shania had finished the paperwork and turned to shake his hand. “Good to see you again, Mr. Charles.”
Mr. Charles held onto his hand longer than just a shake, moisture gathering in his eyes. “You’re a good man. Thank you.” Then he grinned and added, “Bet you bring a smile to the girls’ faces.”
“Well, I’ve got a girl, but it’s her big smile that makes my day.”
He walked out of the room with Mr. Charles’ chuckle reaching his ears. Climbing back into the ambulance, he looked at the clock. “Thank God, the day is over.”
“You’ve got just enough time to get home, get cleaned up, and change so that you can go have dinner with your girl’s parents.”
His head swung around, and he stared at Shania. “How did you find out about that?”
Bobby chortled in the back of the ambulance, and Shania grinned. “Blay sent me a text that said to make sure you’re on your best behavior tonight for the big dinner.”
“Fuckin’ hell.” Blay… just wait, man. Payback’s a bitch.
“Mrs. Carmichael, the dinner was delicious.”
Rory leaned back in his chair, lifting his arm to rest it across the back of Sandy’s, his fingers gently rubbing her shoulder. She twisted her head to look at him, her smile wide—and slightly crooked. It hit him in the gut like it always did, and if he wasn’t sitting across the table from her father, he’d lean over and kiss her smiling lips.
The room they were in was not what he would call opulent, but it was a formal dining room. The meal had been delicious, served on nice china with heavy crystal goblets for the water and wine. He’d had no idea what to think when they drove up to the Carmichaels’ house, but it was more of an estate than just a house. Long driveway, perfectly manicured lawn, and a large house with tall white columns in the front.
“Thank you! I love to cook. And please, call me Martha.”
“I used to employ a cook many years ago,” Ted Carmichael said, patting his stomach, “but Martha insisted that she wanted to do it. I can’t deny that it was a good decision.”
“My mom always loved to cook as well. She still does a big Sunday dinner, and as many of us as possible who can make it try to get there.” Rory’s fingers added gentle pressure to Sandy’s back, sending the subtle message that a Sunday dinner at his mom’s house would soon need to happen.
“So you were born and raised in Hope City?” Ted asked.
Rory had worked through his concern about meeting Sandy’s parents, confident enough in himself to not feel like he had to be intimidated by any man. He also had a feeling that Sandy would kick someone’s ass if she felt like they were not showing