Member-only story
The Last Supper — A Short Story
Claire arrived at the nursing home on Sunday afternoon at 4:00 p.m., just as she had done for the previous two years. Her four-hour shift was the only shift she worked all week, the only shift that fit her hectic schedule, but this would be her final shift before she headed off to college, and she was feeling mixed emotions. Part of her looked forward to the five-hour drive the following morning from her apartment in Albany to the college campus in western New York to begin her quest to become a physician assistant. Yet, another part of her also dreaded saying “Goodbye” to the one man in her life who really meant something to her.
“Are you going to see your sweetheart now?” One of Claire’s co-workers teased Claire as she entered the employee break room and punched her timecard. “He is so going to miss you when you’re gone.”
“Oh, be quiet,” Claire responded. “And you better take good care of him after today.”
Claire appeared chipper and unaffected by her upcoming departure, but as she began to set the tables for the evening meal, she used an extra paper napkin to dab her eyes, and she purposely worked in the far corner, so the other workers wouldn’t notice her apprehension.
