[hiatus]

Author's Note/Chatter (skip if you prefer):

I have come to the point where the creative/inspiration juices have run out, and thus, I've reached the great 'Writer's Block.' This is straight out of my word processor. It is no longer checked for technical precision or excellence. I've also reached that point of stagnation to what we call a 'soup' state. And since I've written this here, I might as well put all of the possible disclaimer I can gather.

Disclaimer:

I am an ESL speaker. My writing is amateur. So, anything written here with a lot of grammatical errors/unnatural way of expression/awkward phrasing; yes, that was me. And yes, the writing quality could be 'meh', which is fine by me. I didn't sign up for the volunteer editors program as of now since I really just want to let it all out ASAP.

In addition, I've had a superficial knowledge about my setting and did only a good amount of digital exposure rather than scholarly research. There's a probability that I could have made mistakes here and there. I'll take responsibility if one who actually lives at this real life-setting could point out any misrepresentations or inaccuracies. My sincere apologies if it ever occurs.

I was about to turn off the voting and comments since my goal is to story dump and treat it with some sort of experimental exploration, but to turn these off would mean limiting the ability of the readers to express themselves. You have every freedom, especially those who took their precious time to complete this reading even though it's as raw drafted as it can go. Your engagement and these quiet interactions matter because the next time I'm putting something out here regardless of how oddly niche, kitsch or foreign it might get, means that my work doesn't exist in the internet vacuum.

There, I might as well say it. I'm putting this story on a hiatus for a lot of reasons: first, I've got burnt-out. A bottleneck has beaten me out of my brief concentration until it brought me back to reality. Second, the overall story is too premature, which leaves many things to be fleshed out. This then could lead to heavy revisions later on. And lastly, I could be busy (for a significant amount of time and might log in occasionally to visit and/or I might focus on a different story instead).

However the case may be so, this overall story is ideally projected to be around 17-20 chapters. Next releases consist of chapters up to its ending. For now, I thank you for taking the time.

***

Chapter 10

Mike Sanditon

"Mike dear, would you mind reaching the ranch over the table?"

Mrs. Hollifield asked me in her raspy voice. Reclined on the lifted hospital bed after she was stirred awake for her check-ups, Mrs. Hollifield's eyes made lazy blinks when she was also called for her lunch.

"Now, this brings back memories." She chuckled when I handed her what she asked. Her frail hands move slowly when she prepares her food and chews them languidly.

She looked up, her gray eyes were far from languid but clear from gaiety and easy-manner. The curls straying away from her graying brunette hair bobbed when she turned from the television and looked at me again with a brief, cordial smile. "The strong scent of hygiene couldn't put an ambience to my lunch." She faintly chuckled once more. "What time is it?"

"12:12," I replied after looking over my wrist-watch.

Mrs. Hollifield let out a good-natured sigh and took another bite. It wasn't long before I checked her and her IV fluids. It was still over half full. Her vital stats were normal, and her health it seems is doing just fine. Her back crouches from natural aging, but she still looks alert. "You know..."

My attention paused when I took one of her arms to monitor her blood pressure. She has pale features, and the movement of her wrinkled skin have fair-toned freckles sprinkled like powder all over it.

"Before I married my husband, he used to bring me into this restaurant that screams like summer in its hearth, even though you barely get a sun in February." She made a hearty laugh, and I joined in.

"Quite right, Mrs. Hollifield," I said.

"I used to wear my Sunday dress and let my shoulders be exposed once I got into that restaurant." Mrs. Hollifield motioned her other arm for emphasis. "I would remove my thick jacket of course, but then my man insists that he does so," she murmured then winked.

I chuckled and gave a responding smile as I carried on to pump the sphygmomanometer wrapped around her before my focus sets in.

Mrs. Hollifield also carried on after a brief pause on what I did. "That was back in '79, we're dating in college, you see." She grinned, and shook her head. "I'll never forget that day when I could smell the restaurant's chips and smoke. Unfortunately, dear, they've closed that place."

Mrs. Hollifield's blood pressure was normal, so I removed the stethoscope out of my ear, and tore the cuff from her before I replied, "That's such a loss, Mrs. Hollifield, I hope I get to try their meals." I mean, if she has reviews on that place with such a vivid memory, the food must've been good.

Her cheerfulness made her let out another chuckle even as she put a hand briefly on my arm out of her mood. "That is indeed a sorry, young man. You have a date to take with you?" She smiled in anticipation.

I affirmed her through a brief nod.

"Oh." Mrs. Hollifield's eyes widened in mild discovery. "Quite so, quite so," her voice trailed off as her head bent slightly down, delving into her thoughts. She looked up eventually. "Perhaps Martin knows a place as good as that," she suggested, referring to her husband. "Let me ask him when he visits. When do you think he'll come?"

"As he usually does, Mrs. Hollifield. Right off this instant." I packed my equipment back and wrote on my paper for this day's check-ups, which came right on time when Mr. Hollifield knocked on the door with fresh flowers on one hand. It was 12:30 when he arrived, carrying along some take-out meals on his other hand.

Mr. Hollifield wore a brown fur jacket that seemed to puff him into a good wrap. The upcoming fall seems to have made its way early this month, which reminds me to put on my car's heater as a priority.

"Martin, do you remember our hot spot back in college? Mike wanted to try some of their food, but I told him they've closed," says Mrs. Hollifield.

I turned with raised eyebrows for such a call. "Oh, it's perfectly fine, Mrs. Hollifield."

Mrs. Hollifield tuts. "Dear, if you were to ask, where do you think is a good place as close to that?" Mrs. Hollifield looked up to his husband. Mr. Hollifield meanwhile made a considerable sound of thought. "He should bring his girlfriend with him too," Mrs. Holliefield added.

"Try Bay City, young man," Mr. Hollifield said, looking up at me quickly when an idea crossed his mind immediately. "Take her this summer."

Mrs. Hollifield made a weak clap of hands. "Oh! Yes, in Bay City." Her eyes flickered alive. "We did try some snacks there, it is just as good," she endorsed.

Mr. Hollifield sat near Mrs. Hollifield, in contrast to his wife's hospital gown, he removed his fur coat and hung it behind a chair to reveal a man in a long sleeved top in simple jeans. Mrs. Hollifield smiled brightly at me and at her husband.

"You make me want to check out a bucket list fast, Mrs. Hollifield." I chuckled. "Now, I'm thrilled."

Then the both of them gushed me further for details and the entire food trip that they suggested I must go into. It took me more minutes to absorb this information altogether before I'll make another nursing round.

That was my newer duty when Katarina pretty much influenced my decision to change assignments. This assignment put me into an in-house routine rather than what I used to with Kat's father. So far, I tend to travel along the view of Devils Lake on my every schedule.

It was a forty-five minute drive. Everytime I think about this, it always comes to question whether I've allowed myself to be influenced or if it was indeed my choice. Like many more decisions I made when my father asked if I would want to manage his properties here in Michigan.

I talked to Ellie, and despite knowing our relationship could stay in the way, I still chose to take this path, losing her in return. It wasn't only my father's real estate if you ask me. This is where I spend my summer holidays. Those days are reminiscent of my own first times. My first kayaking moment was at Lake Superior when Papa brought us on a trip when I was seven. When I've gotten a bit older, I'm one of the reckless kids who would push Oliver at Sleeping Bear Dunes and race back to push the lagger down once more. We've even got scolded for involving a daycare Matty that time.

There were long summers, so were winter storms. Teeming with wildlife and tall pines from the north going down south of the state. I kinda grew up here. Just as someone is familiar with their own roads, rhythms and all of that stuff, so was it for me. So settling here after high school wasn't a big decision, but rather, a natural one. Perhaps, losing Ellie comes with its own regrets as a part of it.

I live the day-to-day beat of my own county. The national parks, the lake and the neighborhood, I've involved myself in them to the point it bores me if I have nothing else to do. College was pretty much expected, I considered first a social work but I already did have a routine of it. So I tried nursing both for science and more importantly, to have people hang around even if they were at a hospital. Guess I'm much more of an extrovert after anything else.

At that time, I was dating Jessica. She's into a pre-med degree related to academia, that ends up with her hooking up a thesis advisor. It was an 'ope, didn't see that coming' sort of embarrassing moment the both of us were dragged in. She apologized afterwards, but it can be quite awkward as hell even when she's hot.

After college, it was the same, I never took any assignments that could cause a conflict to my schedule on the activities I'm involved with. Homecoming, forest ranger monitoring and outreach programs are among these activities I have to pay attention to as a volunteer.

"So you've had a patient now closer to your home, which is... The reason you agreed on my children's school commission to be their tour guide? Did I get that right?" Rosana once asked me after I stopped to buy groceries.

"Yep," I said. "The new owners of that recently bought house from the Crouses? It is said that they're from New York." I asked.

Rosana nodded, adjusting her curls behind her ears when they strayed. She was scanning the grocery items when she spoke in a somber voice. "The Nievezes," she opened. "I came to know one of their children, Katarina."

Which took me by surprise. "You mean, the one who looks after my patient?"

She raised her eyebrows in agreement. "She shops around here by daily walks more often than anybody who lives in this neighborhood."

Which is a wonder, and weird 'cause why on earth does she prefer walking? She could've driven. These were the earlier times that I've actually gotten to know her more than the very beginnings that I've met her though.

During those beginnings, I've only known her as Miss Nievez. Her father had us introduce in the same way you might know by now, ever since his condition had gotten worse. Miss Nievez is quite reserved more than anyone can notice. She barely smiles, very curt in her social niceties and most of the time, lost.

I couldn't test the waters on how I should typically approach and interact with her comfortably. When I did, she would drop the conversation as soon as it was brought up and carried on to exist in utter silence. Which can be quite excruciatingly awkward. Yet, there's that sense that she's closed off.

Katarina Nievez is not jaw-drop stunning but rather feminine in her own right. She has a round face and a small jaw. A petite below-the-chest-level gal whose medium skin tone makes a flawless chocolate brown shade. She has round eyes like her father, and thick lips that she also took from him. The rest are attributed to her mother when I first saw Mrs. Nievez in person. But despite the warm brown doe-eyes Katarina possesses, she sees nothing among those she considers as others.

It is unsettling to see a bright and vibrant feature coming off her when it comes to her father, but immediately shuts it down when it wasn't him. It almost tries to make you feel the stark difference of preferential treatment she casts on those who pleases her.

I didn't try that obviously.

Mr. Nievez is an easy-going man. He has his way with light-hearted humor and the never ending curiosity to a newer place set for him. I used to drive them by, and whenever I tried to glance at the rear mirror, Katarina would have her arms crossed staring at the window like the world never existed around her.

She's that distant. Almost detached, and those eyes that are cheerful are gone for nothing but an empty stare into space.

It gets under me in such a way that how can someone switch off their personality that quick. There are times when I'd like to ask her if she's okay, but she comes off as if she doesn't want to be bothered at any moment now. She convincingly framed herself as someone who can be unapproachable.

"How about a try, Kat?" Mr. Nievez asked excitedly behind him.

Kat. Hmm... Interesting. In some sense, there's a little glimpse behind that hostile aura when Mr. Nievez calls her like that. "That sounded lovely for your girl's name, Mr. Nievez," I remarked.

"Can I actually use your own shotgun instead, perhaps straight to your wild skull?" She hissed sharply.

That took me aback, I wasn't able to respond accordingly from such a verbal attack. Fortunately, her father called her and she behaved as she should. That was the very first time I've seen her express something so unguarded like that. Most of her interactions with me are measured, disinterested and often as if she's bored. Then, she would completely ignore me when opportunity comes.

I'm not insecure about social validation or regard in that manner, but to be directly treated this way makes me ask if there's something I did wrong. What makes it more confusing is how every time I catch her unaware, the flicker in her eyes comes into full focus like the gazes I've received in every interested woman.

I couldn't really tell if she's playing games or if she's just weird.

"Daddy! Kat-Kat. It's me, Kat-Kat," she squealed when she ran to her father whose memories were wiped in another instance of uncertainty.

Katarina Nievez is not weird, she just plays like it. I figured that maybe the way she truly looks at someone was with how she sees her father. Yet, by the time we drove through and she clings to him in silent labored breaths, I'll just convince myself soon enough that I didn't suffer with a savior complex and saw her as a damsel in distress that time.

She cared. She's not apathetic, what she does is more than a matter of indifference down to her core. She cared to the point anything she held dear can get very lethal once threatened. Maybe she saw me as a threat every now and then.

"It's fair play. You can call me Mike or Michael. In return, I'd like to call you something simpler. Besides, I prefer Kat," I said, driving ahead with a sense of satisfaction. Finally, she comes with a bit of life in her. Hostile, true. But expressive with herself compared to the closed off hard shell she was used to, that I even have to second guess on how I interact with her.

"Free rides, Mike? Tempting," her tone flirts. Then, I saw it. I fuckin' knew it, she's into me. But why the fuck so? Wasn't she so bored when I talked with her?

What's going on?

When night came and Rosana's party was up after my shift, I took a short stop in Detroit when some of my college dudes urged me to grab some beer at an inn with this huge ass television for the ongoing NFL season.

"Come over to Ann Arbor, bro. This year's our homecourt," Ethan gurgled next to me in his tipsy seat on the bar's counter. He crouched while sipping his beer instead of actually watching the match as he intended.

My forehead furrowed. "Nah, man. You've been an alum for years now."

"Come on, man," Ethan urged. His mouth clicked. "I'm tryin' to cop the vibe here. Ya know all that lockdown and shit," he told me.

We actually didn't have a wholesome experience around the campus when the pandemic happened. It stole us some of our senior year, that's why he puts it like that. Though, I'm still not buying it. He was once drafted during our freshman year, he had two games until lockdown happened. For now, he seems to be going well with his current career in engineering.

"Whatchu be doin' there, anyway?" I probed further.

Ethan, this time, has an expression lifted into that knowing grin before he gives a guy-coded wink. "Chicks."

I groaned and exasperated my head in motion. "Fuck that, Ethan," I said, before returning my attention on him. "You're hitting those college girls five years behind you?"

"Man," Ethan said in a long sigh. He took a big gulp on his beer and asked for a refill before he turned to me in a growing bloodshot eyes. "It isn't bad if the girl is willin', y'know."

"Like what? You'd stay there to watch the game and do an after-party with a college chick?"

"Chicks, bro. Plural," he corrected, grinning. "I want an orgy."

I made an exasperated sound out of my mouth. "Pass. But I'll catch up if I can after this party I'm going to."

"Where's that?" He juts his chin.

"City boomers, a birthday party for kids. Wanna come?"

"Bye, Felicia." A reply only this guy could ever come up with.

"A'right." I got up and paid my bills. "See ya 'round."

I didn't drink much around Ethan, but with the sudden recall that I'm going to a party, I ended up stopping by a convenience store just in case I needed some packs of something to bring.

"Michael Sanditon! Are you eating? How rude!"

What can I say? I forgot my dinner on the way here when Ethan called. Beats me.

"Why'd you call?" I asked.

"I don't know how to drive," she murmured.

My chewing stopped. For real? This girl acts so much like a spitfire but can't drive? Oh shit, I laughed. But oh... no wonder she walks to Rosana's for groceries every time.

So, she can ask for help sometimes, huh? Those invincible walls couldn't beat someone who needs a lift.

"No way... shit." I can't hide my amusement. "It's not that far from town. Oh, Kat--"

She hung up. But my amused face didn't really go away from that info. You could tease that girl for being helpless even if she puts up an attitude. I got her on that one.

I whistled when I checked her out. "You're looking fine," I said when I got my way back picking her up. I was about to run through our neighborhood as I was going to Rosana's place anyway. In which, I had to deal first with a prelude to her fussiness when it comes to her 'ruined make-up' and attitude. Sure, she got her tits out while pissed as fuck as she flipped a finger at me, but she carried her look as if she's comfortable with her own skin.

"Useless boyfriends," she mutters under her breath. Excuse me? When did she ever become interested in having a boyfriend? But considering that what she wore would totally attract any eager male around, and the determined gaze she has ahead of us, she could be looking for one right now.

She could be looking anywhere except what's around. "Okay, where did that come from? And what about boyfriends? Kat, are you interested?" I smirked. "Is this you hitting me now? Or..." I could try this one out. I got cheeky. "Are you saying something nice to me for once? Hey, I'm not lazy. Just count the hours I'm spending doing you this favor."