by Lynn Ames
Diana’s eyebrows rose into her hairline.
“I mean, I haven’t had a chance to shop for groceries for myself yet and I finished the muffins yesterday. Bringing me breakfast is an errand of mercy.” She couldn’t discern a way out of yet another uncomfortable exchange, so she simply stopped talking. Why was it that Diana brought out the awkward teenager in her? “Let me help you with that.” She relieved Diana of the cardboard tray and carried it over to the kitchen counter.
“Thanks. How was your night? How was Nora’s?”
She pointed back in the direction of the master suite. “She’s just getting dressed now.”
“She’s already dressed, if you’re talking about me,” Nora chimed in. She maneuvered the wheelchair into the living room.
“Good morning.” Diana gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“If my nose isn’t failing like the rest of me, it smells like fresh coffee and pastries in here.”
“Your nose is working perfectly,” Diana said. “I didn’t know if you two still had anything in the house for breakfast.”
“That was very thoughtful of you. I don’t have much of an appetite these days, so I’ll leave those wonderful goodies for you two youngsters. I’ll just have my usual cup of tea and piece of toast.”
“I’ll get it,” Diana and Brooke said simultaneously.
“No need for you girls to fight over me. I can get it myself.”
Brooke stood close by as Nora pushed herself up out of the chair and gripped the counter for support. She was shaky but managed to get herself to a stable standing position. It wouldn’t be long before even this small effort would be too much for her.
In truth, Nora had passed the point where she should’ve been living by herself without a full support system, but Brooke understood her desire for independence and not to be a burden.
“Can I help you?”
“Damned infirmity,” Nora muttered. “Be a dear and put this in the toaster for me?”
“Of course.” She deposited the slice of bread and pushed down the lever. “Can I start the tea kettle?”
“Yes, please. The water’s already in it and the tea bags are in that canister in the corner.”
Brooke prepared Nora’s toast and tea and settled her back in her chair. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Diana. Her expression was a mixture of sadness, trepidation, and something else she couldn’t quite identify.
Brooke’s heart went out to her. In caregiver circles, they called this emotional whiplash. Certainly, there was more to the story…like that picture Diana held yesterday.
She’d wanted to ask Diana about the photograph and what had transpired between them. But the opportunity never arose, and Diana didn’t seem the least bit inclined to bring it up.
“Malasada?” Diana offered.
“You bought fried dough? How can you possibly look the way you do and eat stuff like that?”
“Fast metabolism.” Diana pointed to Nora. “And good genes.”
“I would have to run for three days just to work off that one Malasada.”
“I don’t believe that for a second. You’re in great shape.”
“As if.” Brooke was really famished and the smell of that fried dough made her mouth water. She sighed. “Yes, please, to the Malasada, but I’m eating this under protest.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Diana handed her a plate with the Malasada. “I hope you take your coffee black. You didn’t have any at dinner last night, so I wasn’t sure.” She liberated a to-go cup from the carrier and slid it across the counter.
“I’m not sure whether I should be flattered or worried that you’re so observant. Black is fine, thank you.”
“I say we go with flattered and call it good.”
Brooke swallowed and wiped the powdered sugar from her face with a napkin. She noticed Nora wore an amused expression. Before she had time to ponder that, the doorbell rang again. “Got it.”
The hospice evaluator reminded Brooke of a nursing instructor she once had—brusque, efficient, and all the warmth of a hyena at feeding time. The good news, however, was that she would not be on Nora’s regular care team. Her only job was to ensure Nora fit the criteria and qualified for hospice care, which she obviously did.
When she was gone, Nora broke the silence. “I’ll give her credit for not wasting any of our time.”
“No kidding.” Diana threw out her empty coffee cup. “Are they all like that?”
Brooke cleaned up their plates and wiped down the counter. “No, thank God. In fact, they’re never like that. Hospice workers are usually very gentle and empathetic. You needn’t worry. She’s only in charge of qualifying Nora for services. None of us likely will ever see her again.”
Diana checked her watch. “I hate to do this, but I have to go. I’ve got a lot of prep work ahead of me for the semester, and I have to be in the office early tomorrow for a faculty meeting.”
“I understand completely, and I don’t want you driving in the dark.” Nora hunched over as another coughing jag hit her.
Brooke handed her some tissues and helped her wipe away a smear of blood from her upper lip. She waited for Nora to catch her breath and made a mental note to talk to hospice about providing oxygen.
“Is she going to be all right?” Diana asked under her breath. “I can stay—”
“No, you will not,” Nora wheezed.
“You get going. We’ve got this.” Brooke stood up from where she’d been kneeling next to Nora’s chair.
“You heard her. Nurse’s orders.”
“I’ll go, but I don’t have to be happy about it.” Diana leaned over and gently hugged Nora and kissed her on the cheek. “I need you to stay out of trouble until I get back here on Friday.”
“What kind of trouble could I possibly get into at my age?”
Diana took her leave and Brooke walked her to her car. “I promise I will take excellent care of her.”
“You’ll call me if anything changes?”
“I will. Remember, Diana, as long as Nora is able to make clear decisions, it’s still her show. You’ve seen her—she’ll fight to be as independent as possible for as long as she’s able. You and I can advise, but she’s in charge.”
“I know.” Diana fiddled with her key fob. “I appreciate you taking this on. I’m sure this wasn’t how you imagined spending the next few months or however long this will take…”
Diana’s voice broke and Brooke laid a comforting hand on her forearm. “Thank you for trusting me.”
Diana cleared her throat. “I better get going.” She stepped away and unlocked her car. “Would it be all right if I called to check in at night? Or e-mailed? Or something?”
Brooke laughed. “Pick your preferred method of communication. I’m fine with whatever you choose.”
“Right. Well, then, I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow night.”
“Drive safely.” Brooke waved as Diana pulled away. When she got back inside, Nora’s eyes were closed.
“Did she get off okay?”
“She did.”
“She’s a good girl.”
“I can see that.”
“We’ve got a lot to heal.” Nora’s words were slower now.
Brooke thought that an interesting choice of words. She tucked it away for later examination. “Can I get you more comfortable? Would you rather rest on the couch or the bed?”
“The couch is fine, dear. Then you’re free to go and do whatever you need to do. I’ll likely sleep the rest of the morning away.”
“Okay. I’ll put the phone next to you and program my number. Just press one in your preset numbers to reach me. Do you know how to do that?”
“Of course. What do you think I am, old or something?”
That startled a laugh out of Brooke. She supported Nora as she stood and pivoted onto the couch, put a pillow under her head and back, and then tucked her in with a blanket.
“Thank you, dear.”
“
You’re welcome. I’ve just got to run a few errands and collect more of my belongings. I’ll be back for lunch.”
“No rush. I’m not going anywhere,” Nora mumbled as she dropped off to sleep.
Brooke sent herself a reminder text. Bring new book. She suspected that she’d be spending a lot of time in the coming days and weeks watching Nora sleep.
Brooke checked her watch. It was only eight thirty—too early for her to retire. She sat down to read in the upholstered chair facing Nora’s bed, determined to keep vigil for at least another hour.
It had been a bad day for Nora. Apart from multiple episodes of shortness of breath, she had coughed up even more blood than usual and was visibly weaker. Brooke was glad Diana was gone and didn’t have to bear witness.
“Don’t go. Please. You mustn’t…” Nora’s voice trailed off and Brooke put her book down.
Nora was agitated, her head whipping side to side, her fingers restless on the covers. Brooke rose halfway from the chair. Should she wake her? She seemed in such emotional distress. On the other hand, Nora needed the rest.
“Mary! Come back!”
Nora thrashed and Brooke sprang into action. She knelt by the bed and lightly took Nora’s hand. Tears streamed down the older woman’s face. What could be causing her such consternation? Who was Mary? Did this have anything to do with Nora’s comment about having so much to heal with Diana?
Brooke’s touch seemed to calm Nora. Her breathing steadied and her features relaxed. Brooke wished she could dry Nora’s tears. Instead, she remained as she was, afraid that any further movement would wake her.
Eventually, Nora’s grip eased and Brooke liberated her hand. This was a good thing, as her fifty-year-old knees were rebelling. She stood and returned to her vigil.
Although the book was open in front of her, she had no idea what she was reading. The more time she spent with Nora, the more questions she had. Who was Nora, really? What kind of personal life had she lived? Had she ever married? Was she a widow? Why had she been estranged from Diana?
“You idolized this woman, and all this time, you knew so little about her.” Well, maybe now she would learn about the personal side of Dr. Nora Lindstrom.
“Am I catching you at a bad time?” Diana asked. “Is this too late for you?”
Brooke propped herself up against the headboard. “Ten o’clock? Never. I’m usually up until midnight. I was just lying here reading.”
“The same book you were reading the other day?”
“No. I finished that one.”
“So, what’s this one? Anything good?”
“The Stranger You Seek, by Amanda Kyle Williams. Edgy and scary good.”
“You can read something that gives you the heebie-jeebies right before bed?”
She laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark and things that go bump in the night?”
“Are you kidding? I read scientific journals at bedtime. It doesn’t get any scarier than that.”
“Clearly you lead a life of adventure.”
“Clearly.”
She wrestled with her innate curiosity. Diana technically qualified as a client by virtue of her status as Nora’s proxy. As such, Brooke should keep all of her interactions professional. Still, Diana was an enigma and she found herself wanting to know more about her.
“Speaking of science, can I ask what drew you to neuroscience?” There. That was a safe question, right?
“I knew from the time I was eight that I wanted to be a scientist. Aunt Nora would always say things like, ‘I wonder what would happen if we mixed X with Y? What do you think, Diana?’ And of course, that would be the beginning of a super cool lesson in physics, or chemistry, or whatever.”
There it was again, that mixture of love, awe, and hurt in Diana’s voice when she spoke of childhood memories involving Nora. Tread carefully. “So why the specialty in neuroscience, in particular?”
“That’s a long story. But the short version is that my best friend from college got hit by a car while riding her bicycle on campus. The result was a traumatic head injury that affected her short-term memory, her ability to process speech, and her moods. It also left her to suffer with focal epilepsy—seizures during which she was fully conscious and aware, but unable to respond.”
“That’s horrible.”
“The doctors tried all kinds of seizure medications, but none of them worked perfectly for her. She was twenty years old and she felt like her life was over.” Diana’s voice cracked with emotion.
“Oh, my God. I can’t imagine.”
“I promised her that I would dedicate my life to helping people like her. That meant becoming a neuroscientist. Teaching flowed out of that, and earlier this summer I finally was able to get a grant from the National Institutes of Health to research how these seizures propagate so that we can locate the originating foci and learn how to surgically remove them. There, that’s the CliffsNotes version.”
“That’s amazing. So, if you’re successful, it would mean that a patient eventually could be cured of epilepsy and seizure free?”
“That’s my goal.”
“I hope you get there.”
“Me too.”
She wanted to ask more about Diana’s friend, like where she was now, but the time didn’t seem right.
“Anyway, that’s more than enough about me. How was Aunt Nora today?”
How should she answer that? Should she share with Diana the things she’d heard Nora say in her sleep? That felt like a violation of Nora’s privacy.
“Brooke? Is everything okay?”
She chided herself for taking too long to answer. “Yes. Of course. Nora’s fine. She’s sleeping comfortably at the moment. We didn’t have time to discuss it this morning before you left. She had a bit of a rocky night last night; you know, she was up a few times, restless. She had an equally rocky day today, but she managed to get a good long nap for one stretch and she seemed better for it.” There. That’s the truth.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“That you likely got shortchanged on your sleep last night too.”
She raised an eyebrow. Most people didn’t think of the toll a night like that took on the caregiver. “It’s okay. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Did you get a nap today?”
The question caught her off-guard. “Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“No.”
“In that case, I hope you get a full night’s rest tonight.” Diana’s voice was softer.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Can I call again tomorrow night?”
“Of course. You can call anytime to check up on Nora.”
“By the way,” Diana said, “there should be a technician coming out tomorrow morning.”
“Really? For what?”
“I ordered internet for you.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. After all, what are you going to do all day after you finish your book?”
“Thank you, Diana. That was incredibly thoughtful.”
“You’re welcome. Sleep well, Brooke.”
“You too.”
She sat still for a long time after the call ended. Who are you, Diana Lindstrom? You’re so…complicated.
Diana gathered up her laptop and papers, loaded them into her computer bag, and exited the conference room. She knew she should be excited for the semester, a new crop of graduate students, and the promise of new and potentially groundbreaking research. But all she could think about was Aunt Nora.
Brooke’s report last night was alarming. Diana knew Aunt Nora would have some good days and some bad, but it sounded as though the day went straight downhill after she’d left for home yesterday.
Her mind was filled with questions. Was Aunt Nora having a better day today? How did she and Brooke fare throughout the night? What were they doing now?
“Hey, Professor Lindstrom. You look particularly fetching today. How wa
s your summer? Do anything fun? You didn’t run off and find that someone special, did you? I’d be crushed if you did.”
Diana never broke stride and barely looked at her colleague. Rosemary Neufeld was about as subtle as a bear at a landfill. Diana had dated her…so briefly she could’ve blinked and missed it.
Bethany had just left, along with half their savings, the car, and the house. Diana had been feeling low. Rosemary’s fawning seemed like the antidote to her bruised ego and lack of self-esteem. She knew it was a mistake even before they arrived at the restaurant for dinner.
Four years later, she still was paying for that one night’s bad judgment and moment of weakness.
“I landed an NIH R01 grant.”
Rosemary stopped walking and whistled. “Look at you, big shot! That’s impressive. Are you still thinking you’re going to figure out how to surgically remove seizure foci?” Rosemary waved her hands outward. “I can see it now—Dr. Diana Lindstrom, the woman who single-handedly brought focal epilepsy to its knees.”
“Very funny. As you know, there are many teams working to determine the dynamics of these seizures. It won’t be just me. It will be a team effort.”
“Speaking of which… Have you picked your research team yet? I can be very useful.”
“Thanks, but I’m all filled up.” Diana kept moving and escaped around the corner and into her office, where she closed the door and leaned against it. Note to self, finish putting together the research team ASAP.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Brooke closed the door behind the technician who’d just installed Wi-Fi in Nora’s house. When she had handed him her credit card, he informed her that the invoice already had been taken care of, and the billing was set up in Diana’s name.
“You certainly are efficient, Dr. Lindstrom.”
The timing for the installation worked out perfectly, as Brooke had put Nora back in bed for a rest shortly before the technician arrived. Now she opened the bedroom door a crack and peeked inside.
“I’m awake.”
“Did you have a good nap?”