“It won’t.” I didn’t repeat I’m fine because I could feel a band of pressure creeping up around my head, and nausea turning my stomach. Not now. I waved Neil off and snapped, “Go do your job.”
That got me a look with some real hurt in it, but I didn’t want him to hang around to watch me puke so I didn’t apologize. He left the lobby, and I was relieved to see his back disappear before a wave of pain rolled over me and the stool I was sitting on decided it was part of a merry-go-round. I grabbed for a wad of tissues and dry-heaved. Luckily, breakfast was enough of a memory that my stomach was empty. I wiped my lips and clung to the edge of the counter as the world spun and dipped.
“Excuse me?” Seconds or maybe hours later, someone stood in front of me.
I blinked hard, reached for my water bottle, chugged a mouthful, and plastered on a smile. “Yes? How can I help you?”
The white-haired old woman across the counter tilted her head and eyed me. “Are you all right, young man?”
“Ate the wrong thing for lunch.” Is it lunch time yet? The morning seemed unending. “I’m better now. What can I do for you?”
“I was hoping to look at cats. Maybe an older cat? I don’t have a lot of years left myself, but I can give a good home to some nice quiet senior.”
“Oh yes, perfect.” I glanced around but didn’t spot any volunteers. Because they’re in back doing your job for you. I pushed the buzzer button. “Someone will be here in a minute. Have them show you Lucy and Spritz. Lucy’s fourteen and she’s in great health. Sweet cat, pretty much a lap potato. Spritz is more aloof but he’s gentle when he gets to know you. Might need his teeth done next year—Oh, Jeff.” I waved to the retired gentleman who appeared down the hallway. Several of our mid-day volunteers were seniors who couldn’t afford a pet or lived in no-pet housing, but loved being around the fur-babies. Jeff wasn’t up to walking the bigger dogs, but he adored the cats. “Show our client Lucy and Spritz, please, and any other older friendly cat she might like.”
“Can do.” He peered at me. “Are you okay, Arthur?”
“I wish people would stop asking me that!” I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to yell.”
“I’ll go show the lady some cats.”
I heard their footsteps click away across the marble tiles and sighed.
“Okay, that’s it,” Neil said from my elbow.
“What?” I barked, then pinched my nose harder as my head vibrated from the noise. You dumbass.
“That.” Neil’s tone was gentle. “You look like you’re about to fall over, and you’ve yelled at three people so far this morning.”
“I don’t yell at people.”
“Not usually, no. Which is why I’m sending you to your bed. Or wherever you’re staying, I guess, since the dogs aren’t upstairs.”
“With Brooklyn.” Who didn’t deserve to deal with my cranky self either. “I’ll just go up and sack out in my apartment for a while.” I pushed to my feet using my good leg, bent to retrieve my crutch from where it leaned against the counter…and dizziness swamped me until I puked right on Neil’s foot. Luckily just a little yellow bile. I followed that performance by staggering into the counter, grabbing it for dear life as I hit my bad leg on the edge and yelped like a bee flew up my thigh. With a red-hot poker. Owowowowowie.
Neil caught my arm in a strong grip. “Do you need a doctor?”
“No! Damn. Just my ibuprofen and stretching out in bed for a bit, I guess.” I swallowed my pride and asked, “Can you give me a hand getting up the stairs.”
“No can do.” Neil shook his head. “I’m not leaving you alone at the top of the stairs, and I don’t have the time to stay with you.”
“I’ll call when I want to come down.”
“Uh-huh.” He eyed me. “What was the name of the new volunteer I introduced you to this morning?”
I was better with pets’ names than humans’, and I barely remembered the intro. I’d been focused on staying upright. “Brown hair, short, about thirty.” I searched my aching brain. “Said she had to go to work at ten. Has a dog named Chloe.” Or Cleo, or something like that.
Neil nodded. “Yasmin. As I told you three times.”
“That’s not much of a test. I’m crappy with names at the best of times,” I grumbled.
“Which is why I’m not sending your ass to the ER. But I am giving you two choices. Either I drive you to this Brooklyn’s place, or you let me send you in a cab.”
“You can’t spare the time. If we’re open to the public, one of us has to be here.”
“I’ll call a cab, then.” Neil crossed his arms and gave me a hard stare.
“You’re not the boss—” I cut off “of me,” before I manage to sound like a toddler.
