Conflicted

Chapter 14

Ada Johnson's P. O. V

"Marjorie?" I yell through the bungalow as I finish up vacuuming the final floor I was supposed to do today. The day has pretty much rushed by as I try my best to complete my chores one after another. Hating the thought of having to leave them to do to the next day. Not only does it sit well with me because it merely adds on to my already piled up and tiring day but I hate doing it to the sweet understanding woman who seems to let me off too easy with things.

"Yes dear?" Comes her frail voice from somewhere around the house. A smile slips onto my face as I can now definitely hear the improvement within her tone. Voice gradually becoming stronger day by day as she regained her strength after her operation. Navigating my way around the rooms trying to find her, I realise that the week with her has flown by frighteningly fast and yet agonisingly slowly at the same time.

I have to admit I settled into the routine fast enough what with how adapting and comforting Marjorie is, willing to help at every little way even though my job entails me doing that for her. It does tire me out however when I finish up here, barely managing to sneak in a quick lunch break before I'm heading off to my second job at the shop a few blocks down from my apartment. The early hours and late nights don't help much either but I can't complain. That's all that keeps me motivated.

I'm blessed to have even this opportunity.

Like they say, every little helps.

"What are you doing Marjorie?" I ask in shock as I scuttle over to her, mouth dropping open as I finally find her grasping onto the ends of a heavy looking coffee table, trying to drag it away from its previous position and over to somewhere else. I barely think as I shoo her away, mouth settling into a stern frown as I place my hands on my hips.

It's become quite apparent over the past week that Marjorie isn't one to listen. Especially to her doctors. Bed rest for the first few weeks. No heavy lifting. No strenuous activities like running around. No junk food full of preservatives, only healthy food. Does she listen? No. Especially when it comes to those big bag of Malteasers she tries to hide from me.

I do all of her grocery shopping, I, for the life of me, don't know where she grabs a hold of them.

Maybe Gregory buys them her?

I need to have a word with him. Maybe after he comes here to pick me up which should be in more or less of ten minutes.

Clearing my throat and my mind of certain topics I have made taboo for myself, I ask the slightly hyperactive woman where she wants the coffee table to be placed. After a few puffs and pants, I push the table to where she wants. Myself admitting that yes it indeed does look better in its new position then its previous one.

Dusting my hands off onto my jeans, I stand up straight and wince as I few popping and cracking noises resound through the room, so loud even Marjorie gives me a funny look.

"You'd think you were the old woman here. Not me." She says with a smile coming onto her now slightly fuller face.

"You would wouldn't you." I tease back lightly as we both make our way into the kitchen. Me heading for the spare set of keys hanging on the wall while Marjorie sits herself down on a barstool, ready to do some Mills & Boons reading.

"I'll be leaving then. You sure you have what you need written down?" I inquire further, wanting to know that I have jotted down everything she needs. A head nod is all I get from here as she soon becomes too immersed in her erotic romance.

This is when I leave.

Heading out of the room, I make my way towards the kitchen as I look around here and there wondering when Gregory will be coming. Making my towards the edge of the counter, I see a white crumpled up paper lying on the floor. Frowning, I glance around hoping no ones seen my messy self considering it is my job to be keeping the place nice and tidy. Picking the paper up, I throw it in the bin and only then stop in place as I glance down at my feet.