Chapter 6: Not for Now
Lia's POV
"Whatever he's after—don't give it to him." The old man's expression was steady. His eyes drifted to the cabinet beside the bed.
Lia knew what was inside: an old phone, a driver's license, and a few keys to old-fashioned door locks.
Kelt's smile thinned slightly.
"Come on, Uncle. You're sick and still this stubborn. I could run home and grab you some clean clothes, but how am I supposed to get in without a key?"
"I have a hospital gown."
"Someone still needs to look after the house while you're in here. There are documents you'll need—paperwork for everything."
Lia finished arranging the meal container and set it in front of Walter. She handed him the spoon, waited until his grip was steady, then turned around.
"If he needs something, he'll say so. You can take it when he agrees."
"We're family. Why do you need to play middleman?" Kelt's eyes went cold.
That, at least, was refreshing. She no longer had to watch him pretend to be pleasant.
Lia leaned against the side of the cabinet. "Well, you heard him. He just said no."
Kelt glanced at Walter, then lowered his voice.
"Miss, I have a pretty good idea what your previous line of work was. Ray told me. The old man's sick—people get confused when they're unwell."
That fire in her chest flared up again.
"Funny you should mention that. Yesterday when Ray was paying me, he tried to play confused too. Ended up counting out every last bill. Made a remarkably quick recovery."
"As long as you understand what I'm saying."
"Kelt." Walter called his name, drawing a slow breath. "Shut up."
The spoon clinked against the edge of the tray. She reached over to steady it, wiped a drop of soup from the bedsheet, and caught in her peripheral vision that Kelt had shifted further back in his chair.
"I'm just worried about you, Uncle. Someone new suddenly appears at your side—it's only right to ask questions."
"If there's anything unclear, ask me," Lia said. "And not while he's eating."
Kelt finally turned his full gaze on her.
"Fine. How long are you planning to keep this up?"
"That's between him and me."
"Don't you have a job? You're here all day—where does the money come from? If he's here a month, you stay a month? What if it's six months?"
She wanted to tell him it was none of his business, but her phone screen lit up just then. The bakery's number sat in the notification bar, reminding her to reply by tomorrow morning.
Kelt noticed.
"You need to earn a living too, right?"
Lia didn't hide the phone. She just pressed the screen dark. That tone of his—like he was holding her rice bowl hostage—was a perfect match for Ray.
"Go take care of your own business. I'll find someone for him." Kelt pulled out his phone. "Spend a little money—better than everyone wearing themselves out here."
"The person you find has to be suitable."
"They'll be experienced. Don't worry."
"I'll believe it when I see them."
He made the call right there, asking about availability, asking about experience.
She listened from the side. The schedule and care arrangements she'd been worrying about—he actually covered them all.
"Tomorrow work for you? Great, come by. Yes, at the hospital. Just daily companionship, keeping an eye on things."
After he hung up, he asked her, "What time is your thing?"
Lia saw no reason to hide it. "Work hours are one to seven in the afternoon."
"That works out. You cover the morning, I come over at noon, the caregiver arrives too, and you go do your thing in the afternoon."
Lia looked at Walter. The old man hadn't touched his spoon. His left hand pressed down on the tray, his gaze fixed on her face.
She suddenly wanted to delete the bakery's number.
But then what? Eight hundred and sixty dollars didn't spend itself, and sitting in this chair all day wasn't going to conjure the next paycheck out of thin air.
"We'll do the handover tomorrow," she said, putting the phone back in her bag. "Once the person shows up and everything's clear, I'll decide."
Kelt had just said "There you go" when his phone rang again.
He saw the caller, stood up immediately, and headed for the door.
"I sent the quote over already… Victor's new beverage trial order—can you check with him, when can we meet?"
Lia's eyes flickered up. That name, surfacing at a moment too convenient to ignore. He was already at the door, his other hand rubbing his brow.
"Got a family member in the hospital—it's holding everything up. I can't just sit here every day."
The door hadn't shut all the way. Walter had clearly heard too. He set down the spoon.
"One more bite," she said.
"No."
She started to coax him, looked at what was left, and changed tack. "Want some water?"
He nodded.
Lia brought the cup over and said nothing about Kelt's phone call. When he came back in, he said something had come up and he needed to step out, but he'd be on time tomorrow. She asked him to send the caregiver's contact information. Only after her phone buzzed with the message did she give a short nod.
Walter finished eating and lay down. She went out to the corridor and texted Andy.
"What day should we meet? I need to plan around my schedule."
After typing it she felt the message was too stiff, like she was scheduling a delivery. She was about to revise it when his reply came through.
"Day after tomorrow, afternoon. Coffee area in the hotel lobby—I'll send you the address. Three o'clock. I'll only have about twenty minutes."
Twenty minutes.
Lia read the time again. Twenty minutes total—barely enough to wait for a coffee to cool.
"You're that busy? Then maybe…"
She was still typing when a voice message arrived.
"Lia, things are a bit packed on my end, and the schedule's hard to shift. What happened between us—let's talk in person."
She pressed the phone to her ear and listened again.
She hadn't heard Andy say her name in a long time. That twinge of irritation was still there, but she'd already nudged it aside. He'd just gotten back; of course he had people to see. It was normal.
Lia deleted the half-finished message and replied with a single word: "OK."
When she walked back into the room, Walter was watching the doorway.
"What's got you… so cheerful?"
"Old classmate's back in town. Invited me for coffee."
He hadn't actually offered to treat her—she'd volunteered that detail on his behalf. She set her phone on the bedside table, picked up the water cup, and mentally sorted through which old piece of clothing would dry fastest after washing.
Walter studied her, as if he wanted to ask more. Before he could, she brought up tomorrow's plan.
"If the person seems all right, I'll go try the shift. I'll be done at seven and come straight back."
His left hand suddenly reached out and caught her sleeve.
The grip wasn't strong, but she didn't dare move.
"Tomorrow…"
He looked at her. The rest of the sentence didn't come.
"Tomorrow what?"
Lia set the water cup down carefully and waited.
Walter's fingers still hooked the fabric, then loosened, knuckle by knuckle.
"If you want to go… go."
"I'm asking you."
"I heard you." He withdrew his hand to the top of the blanket. "I'm not deaf."
The old man really was something. He'd dangle half a sentence to keep her guessing, then act annoyed when she pressed for more—leaving her with no choice but to swallow her frustration. She sat down and smoothed out her sleeve.
"Then let me meet the person tomorrow first. If you don't like them, you have to tell me why."
He closed his eyes, leaving only half of his taut profile visible.
She waited. No answer came. She typed "Cancel the trial shift" into a message, then deleted it letter by letter.
That night, Lia slept even lighter than the night before.
The next morning, she called the caregiver to confirm the time, then stopped by the nurses' station to ask what to watch for during the day. She wrote down every point about daily care, one by one; the items requiring medical staff, she circled separately.
Back in the room, Walter caught a glimpse of the sheet of paper.
"Quite the list."
"I'm worried the new person won't know that their client can find fault with a meal before he's halfway through it."
"You're no different."
She thought about it—fair point—and didn't argue back. She cleared his tray. In her bag, pressed flat beneath everything else, was a clean old top she'd been saving for the day she met Andy. She felt the collar—still not fully dry—and left the zipper open a crack.
One thing at a time. Get the job first, then figure out what to wear for twenty minutes.
At noon, Kelt actually showed up.
Lia was sitting with Walter during lunch when the person Kelt had arranged arrived carrying a water bottle, phone in hand, a few minutes ahead of schedule.
The caregiver was punctual—that knocked out half the objections she'd been preparing. At least they'd delivered on the first promise.
"She's here," Kelt said, jerking his chin toward the door. "You can relax. Go on."
"He's not done eating."
She didn't move her chair. The caregiver waited to the side. Only when Walter set down his spoon did Lia wipe the small table clean, stand up, and hand over the sheet of paper.
"You stay until after seven tonight. Wait for me to come back before you clock out. Help him set up dinner—everything on his left side. His right hand doesn't have the strength."
"Got it. I'll keep an eye on things."
Lia pointed to the call button.
"If he wants to move, call someone to help. Even if he says he's fine on his own, don't let him. If he's uncomfortable, get the nurse. If you're not sure about something, don't try to handle it yourself."
The caregiver nodded, set down the water bottle, and reached over to retrieve a tissue that had slipped off to one side—the motion practiced and natural. Lia relaxed a fraction more.
"And the phone call," Lia added. "I'll call him at five. If he's asleep, just pick up and let me know."
"Afternoon companionship, help with dinner, call for assistance if he gets up, answer the phone at five. Got it."
The caregiver finally repeated back every key point. Lia dialed the number and listened for the ring on the other end before hanging up.
Kelt checked his watch from the side.
"Anything else? I'm here too."
"How long are you staying?"
"Until you get back—will that do? Uncle's right in front of me. He's not going to vanish."
She looked at him, then at the caregiver who had already settled into position. Kelt thought she was being excessive; the caregiver, at least, had answered clearly enough. If she kept nitpicking, she might as well strap the apron and the hospital bed to her back and haul them both to the bakery.
"Call me if anything comes up."
Kelt waved his phone once. Close enough to a yes.
She bent to gather her things and realized her sweater was still draped over the back of the original chair. Walter used his left hand to shift his pillow, then nudged the chair by the bed aside, making room for her to sit and sort herself out.
"Dawdling," he said.
Lia had a retort ready, but it dissolved before it reached her lips.
Yesterday he'd been clutching her sleeve. Today he was rushing her out like he was afraid she'd get docked for being late.
She sat for half a minute, straightened her bag strap, and stood.
"I'll be back as soon as my shift ends."
He looked toward the window.
"I heard you."
"You're welcome to complain about how noisy I am—but save it for when I get back."
She said this, then placed the phone by his left hand, making sure he could reach it. He brushed the back of his hand against it but didn't push it away.
Outside the room, she stopped in front of the elevator.
She thought of the name Kelt had mentioned—Victor—and took out her phone.
Victor's name was right there in her contacts. She stared at it.
If she tapped it, he'd probably answer. But then she thought of that twelve hundred a week, and moved her finger away.
In the end she sent a text: "Do you know a supplier named Kelt?"
By the time the elevator reached the ground floor, the reply had arrived.
"I've seen his quotes. Why?"
"He's Walter's nephew. Came by to arrange care. Just asking."
"Need my help?"
She glanced up at the window on the floor above.
The caregiver was there. Kelt had promised to stay.
Right now, apart from the fact that she didn't like the man, there was no reason that actually warranted asking for help.
"Not for now. Thanks."
