Stuck in the Middle, page 23
“Luis want to meet you.” Rosa was having trouble looking Joan in the face too. She stared at the concrete between them. “He want to explain to you our reasons to move to Las Vegas.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation.” Joan was proud that her voice betrayed none of the hurt and disappointment she felt. She was losing her friend.
“Miss Joan.” His voice a high tenor, Luis made her name sound even more exotic than Rosa did, the J coming out as a Y. “We come to Los Estados Unidos to make money we not can make in Mexico. Here we make mucho to send back to our family in Juarez. But we . . . ,” his hands waved as he searched for a word, “we lonely to be together. What good is money if we not have each other?” He put an arm around his wife and pulled her close to his side. “Rosa is my family. Tiffany is my family. If I do not have my family, money is no good for me.”
The love shining from his eyes as he gazed at his wife, and in Rosa’s as she looked at him, pierced through a barrier in Joan. She felt the beginning of tears prickle the back of her eyes, an all-too-familiar feeling lately. What would she give to have someone love her that much?
Wonder stole over her as she realized she did. Her Father had told her just this morning how much he loved her, and that he would never leave her. For some reason, that made Rosa’s departure not as devastating as it would have seemed before. Joan would miss her, but she knew this was the right thing for her friend.
And for Tiffany too. That little girl deserved to have both her parents with her. She especially deserved a father who loved her, as Luis obviously did. She was young. She’d adjust to her new home, make new friends, and be happier because she was part of a real family. An American family, just like Rosa wanted for her.
Joan reached for them both, pulled them into a hug. “I hope you’ll be happy in the home you build together.”
Joan stepped through the hospital’s main entrance. Her watch read 7:15. Gram would have finished supper an hour ago, and was probably watching her evening game show.
As she hurried toward the elevator, her eyes fell on the person leaning against the reception desk. Shock coursed through her body, bringing her to a standstill.
Ken.
Stomach in her throat, her face heated in a flash as their gazes locked. She knew he’d be here, knew she would run into him tonight. But she didn’t think he’d be waiting to waylay her inside the front door. He must think her a total infant after the way she behaved this morning.
He crossed the room in three steps, his eyes never leaving hers. “I knew you’d be here soon.”
She tore her gaze away, staring instead at the stethoscope hanging around his shoulders, the collar of his white jacket, anywhere but at his face. “I wanted to see Gram.”
She swallowed. Of course she did. He knew that. Why was she stating the obvious?
“I know. I won’t keep you. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. And that you weren’t”—his head dipped, trying to catch her eye—“mad at me.”
She gave an embarrassed laugh. “Of course not. I’m just feeling a little foolish for running off like I did this morning.”
His warm finger touched her chin, tilting it gently upward. She couldn’t breathe, the breath snatched from her lungs by the green depths of his eyes.
“I don’t think you’re foolish, Joan.”
The way he said her name, drew it out like he wanted to savor the taste on his tongue, washed over her like a caress. Who needed a nickname? When Ken said it, her name flowed into her ears like heavenly music. All awkwardness fled as his finger rose to brush her cheek. If she leaned forward and tilted her head, their lips would touch.
If only the woman behind the reception desk wasn’t staring at them with such obvious interest. Ken noticed and his hand dropped to his side. Mouth twitching, he took a step backward. “I’ll let you get up there.”
Blushing to the hair roots, Joan nodded. He fell in step beside her as she walked to the bank of elevators. When she punched the Up button, the door swooshed open immediately. Just her luck.
He leaned against the side panel to keep the door from closing. “Dr. Boling is going to be late tomorrow, so I’ll be stuck here in the morning. I’ll miss our walk.”
Disappointment washed over her, but she nodded. “Do you want me to take Trigger? I’ve got an old leash at the house I can use.”
“He’d love that.”
“It won’t be the same, though.” She gave him a shy smile. “I was sort of hoping we could continue our conversation. I promise not to cry or run away.”
The elevator door tried to close, and he shoved it back with his shoulder. “Any time. Maybe we could go to dinner one evening.”
A lopsided grin turned her stomach into a fluttering mess.
“Just the two of us.”
A date! He was asking her for a date! Breath shallow, unable to tear her gaze away from his eyes, she managed to respond in a composed voice. “I’d like that.”
Triumph shone in his face. “Me too.”
He stepped back, and the doors swished closed.
Joan melted against the elevator’s back wall. They hadn’t set a time or place, but she had definitely been asked for a date. Two almost-kisses and an almost-date! Tori might not approve, but Allie would be thrilled with her progress.
Joan stepped off the elevator and caught sight of Mom leaning over the nurses’ station counter talking with a woman seated on the other side. When she saw Joan, she straightened. Her face took on a guarded expression, which sent a shock of fear coursing through Joan. Was something wrong? Surely Ken would have mentioned it. Unless he didn’t know.
Joan approached, bracing herself for bad news. “What’s wrong? Has she taken a turn for the worse?”
Mom’s brow cleared. “No, not at all. She’s doing really well, in fact. It’s just . . .” She glanced at the seated nurse, grabbed Joan’s arm, and propelled her down the hallway. They stopped in the deserted waiting room at the end. “She’s being released tomorrow.”
“But that’s good news.”
“It is.” She nodded. “But she’s not being released to come home. She needs some extra help and some PT that Dr. Winterton feels she won’t get at home.”
Cold fear tickled in the back of Joan’s mind. “I’ll take off work. I’ve got some time off coming—”
“Joan.” Mom stopped her with a hand on her arm. “You’re not a nurse or a physical therapist. Mother will be better off at a facility where they have skilled people who can help speed her recovery.”
“A facility like Waterford?” The word rolled off her tongue with a bitterness that was more habit than a true expression of her feelings.
Mom winced. “They have an excellent nursing program. I promise you, it’s only temporary. In a couple of weeks when she’s recovered enough to take care of herself, she’ll come home.” Mom rested her chin on clasped hands, as though beseeching her to agree. “I’m sorry, Joan. I know how you feel about this.”
Joan stared at the pleading in her mother’s face. With a growing amazement, she realized Mom didn’t know how she felt—because Joan didn’t feel the same as the last time they talked about the assisted living center. True, she wasn’t happy about this development and could get angry or upset if she allowed herself. But there really wasn’t any reason to feel that way. Gram wasn’t being taken from her. She knew that now.
I will never leave you, nor forsake you.
From somewhere deep inside, a sense of calm welled up to drive away the fear that she would lose someone else she loved. No matter what happened, Joan would never be alone.
She took both of Mom’s hands in hers. “It’s okay. I understand.”
At 10:40 the next morning Joan pulled her car into a parking place in front of Waterford Manor. She’d driven by the facility many times since it opened, but this was the closest she’d ever come. Peering over the steering wheel at the covered entry, the ornate front door, the well-tended flower garden lining the trim brick building, she had to admit the place didn’t look like a depressing nursing home from the outside.
Allie’s car pulled to a stop beside her. Mom must have also called her about Gram’s pending arrival at Waterford. She heaved herself out of the car with some effort, and then leaned against the door to rest. As she waddled around the car, Joan realized with a shock that her belly was noticeably lower than just two days ago.
“You’ve dropped.”
Allie rolled her eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.” She winced, her hands carrying her round abdomen as she walked. “She’s pressing on something in there, and it feels awful. If I stand up too quickly, you’d better be ready to catch her when she falls out.”
“But you’ve got three more weeks.”
She glared. “Don’t remind me.”
They made for the shade of the canopy and stopped to scan the parking lot.
“I don’t see Mom’s car,” Allie said.
“We probably beat them here. Mom said they had to get some paperwork signed before they’d be able to leave.”
“Let’s go in and see what it’s like.”
Steeling herself with a deep breath, Joan opened the door for her sister. When they stepped inside, Allie gasped and Joan’s eyes went wide.
They stood in a foyer with high, vaulted ceilings and marble tiled floor. Richly upholstered wingback chairs sat on each side of a gleaming mahogany table, a marble statuette posed elegantly on its surface. The subtle scent of lemons hung in the air, reminding Joan of the furniture polish Gram used at home.
“Ohmigosh,” breathed Allie. “Mom said it was nice, but I had no idea.”
The sound of a chair scooting across the floor drew their attention to a neat reception desk. A gray-haired woman rose from behind it. “May I help you?”
Her pleasant smile made a homey contrast to the elegant surroundings. Joan returned it, hoping hers wasn’t stiff with surprise. “Our grandmother is going to be here for a couple of weeks while she recovers from surgery. She should arrive any minute.”
“Oh yes.” She ran a finger down a pad of paper on the desk. “Mrs. Hancock. We’re expecting her.”
Allie pointed toward the two chairs. “Is it okay if we wait over there?”
The woman nodded. “Of course. But if you’d like to take a look around before she arrives, I’ll be happy to give you a little tour.”
“That would be nice, thank you.”
She came out from behind the desk. “I’m Edna Carter.” “Allie Harrod, and this is my sister Joan Sanderson.”
Her hand, slender and lined with veins, felt cool in Joan’s. They fell in beside her as she led them beneath a wide archway. Allie pointed upward toward the stained glass in a dome-shaped ceiling. Eyes wide, Joan nodded as she stepped through a doorway on the other side. She’d never seen stained glass that size outside of a church.
“This is the dining room.” Mrs. Carter’s gesture swept the room. “Breakfast and lunch are available, of course, though some residents prefer to have those meals in their apartments. But no one misses dinner in the dining room. We have a grand time every evening.”
Round tables covered with white tablecloths filled the carpeted room, eight high-backed chairs surrounding each one. Large chandeliers cast a warm light over the furnishings. A statue stood sentry beside the door—a life-size maître d’ holding a burgundy menu for display.
Allie stooped to read it. “Tonight they’re having chicken cordon bleu or poached salmon with hollandaise sauce, potatoes au gratin, and green bean casserole. And peach cobbler or carrot cake for dessert.” She ran a tongue across her lips. “Can I come for supper?”
The older woman laughed. “Of course you can, dear. We love guests. I’ll put in an order for an extra meal if you like.”
They proceeded through the dining room, across a hallway, and through a set of doors beyond.
“This is the library.” Mrs. Carter’s announcement was unnecessary. A large stone fireplace dominated one side of the long room, but two walls were composed of floorto-ceiling shelves of polished dark wood, stuffed full with books. A candle burned on the mantle, filling the room with the scent of vanilla. Two women seated at a computer broke off an animated conversation at their approach. Joan caught sight of an eBay list on the monitor. They smiled and nodded a greeting before continuing their discussion about how much their maximum bid should be.
Mrs. Carter gave a sniff as she pointed toward a closed door in the wall opposite the fireplace. “The study is through there. This entire building is nonsmoking, but a few gentlemen insist on stepping out on the patio to smoke their cigars. We keep the door closed because of the smell.”
Joan smiled at Mrs. Carter’s obvious disapproval of such behavior. They returned to the hallway. Paintings decorated the walls, along with the occasional plant stand or upholstered chair placed in cozy nooks beside an end table with an assortment of magazines. The doors on the rooms they passed each had a plaque with the name and a picture of the resident. Through open doors, several people called a greeting as they passed.
Joan turned to Mrs. Carter. “This is a beautiful place. But I don’t see any sick people. I thought this was a nursing facility.”
“It is that too. We offer several levels of care here, whatever the resident needs. Your grandmother will be on Respite Care, I noticed, which means she’ll receive full care but only temporarily, while she’s here.” Her face brightened. “Would you like to see one of the apartments?”
“We’d love to.” Allie smiled her gratitude.
“Come this way.”
Joan followed Allie and Mrs. Carter, peering at the various wreaths and hangings on many of the doors. They crossed the dining room again and into another hallway, passing a laundry room, a chapel, and even an exercise room.
“You have a gym?” Allie’s eyebrows arched high.
Mrs. Carter waved a hand dismissively. “That’s nothing but a few machines. All residents have full membership at the wellness center next door. They have exercise classes and a swimming pool there.”
Allie turned an open-mouthed look Joan’s way. “I want to live here!”
Joan agreed. The place was like a country club. She felt more than a little foolish for making such a big deal out of Mom bringing Gram here to visit her friend.
Mrs. Carter stopped in front of a door, her hand on the doorknob. She turned a worried face toward them. “Now I wasn’t expecting guests, so don’t look too closely at the dishes in the sink.”
Joan’s jaw went slack. “This is your apartment?” The older woman nodded. “I thought you worked here.”
“Oh no, dear. Janet had to step away to take care of a resident. I was just covering the desk for a minute.”
Joan took a second look at their guide. Mrs. Carter wasn’t anywhere near as old as Gram. Come to think of it, many of the residents she’d seen looked younger than Gram. She shook her head. She couldn’t have been more wrong about this place.
Mrs. Carter’s apartment was homey, comfortable, and stuffed full of furniture. A sliding glass door off the main room opened on to a private patio with a pretty little flower garden. The kitchen area boasted a half-sized refrigerator, a microwave, and a sink with a small cabinet. They stepped through a doorway into a separate bedroom with a full-sized bath.
Allie walked through, Joan right behind her, then turned a smile on Mrs. Carter. “It’s lovely.”
The older woman’s gaze swept the room. “It’s small, but plenty big for me. And now we’d better get back up front and see if your grandmother has arrived.”
She had. Mom’s empty car sat beneath the canopy out front. Mrs. Carter led them down another hallway to a room whose door stood open. Inside, Joan found Mom and a young, pleasant-faced nurse’s aide on either side of Gram’s bed.
This apartment was smaller than Mrs. Carter’s, an efficiency, probably intended for temporary use only. It was more comfortable than a hospital room, with a vinyl recliner beside a nice little table and lamp, but the bed was standard hospital issue. It had the same kitchenette as Mrs. Carter’s, and a private bathroom.
“There you girls are.” Mom set Gram’s suitcase on the floor and shrugged her purse off her shoulder. “I saw your cars out front.”
Allie eased into the recliner. “We were getting the grand tour. Wow, Gram, this is quite a place you’ve landed in.”
Joan went to the bedside to take Gram’s hand. The IV had been removed, and a piece of gauze beneath plastic tape covered the place where the needle had punctured her skin. Her eyelids looked heavy as she tried to focus on Joan. “Do you think Myrtle will come visit with me?”
“Mrs. Mattingly?” The young aide patted her other arm. “I’m sure she will later. But right now you need to get some rest.” She placed a call button on the bed next to Gram’s right hand. “I’ll be in to check on you every so often, but ring this when you wake up.”
Gram nodded and, with a soft sigh, closed her eyes.
Mom spoke in a low voice. “The trip over took a lot out of her. We’ve given her something for pain, so she’ll sleep for hours.”
“Are you saying I have to go back to work now?” Allie blew her bangs off her forehead. “I told them I’d be gone most of the afternoon.”
“Go home and take a nap,” Mom advised. “You look tired, honey.”
Joan held a hand out to help her sister out of the chair. “Well, I’m going back to work, but I’ll come again later. Will I see you this evening?”
“Oh yeah.” Allie smiled. “I’m coming for dinner. Mrs. Carter ordered me some of that chicken cordon bleu.”
They filed quietly out of the room. Joan paused in the doorway to look back at the bed. Gram’s breath came slow and steady, her face peaceful in sleep. A matching peace descended over Joan. Gram might have a painful and slow recovery ahead of her, but she was going to be fine.
~ 23 ~
Cracker Barrel’s dining room bustled with activity. Joan had to raise her voice to be heard by Eve, who sat at the far end of the long table. Their number had grown tonight, since Gordy and Crystal both brought friends. Joan was ecstatic at the popularity their little group was enjoying. Of course, it might just be the food that drew people. Who didn’t love Cracker Barrel?
