She won’t stay in bed and keeps wandering around. They’ve moved her to a room right outside of the nurses station with a door that locks. Everything is glass so that they can watch her. Some poor young nurse, a student by the name of Becky, is assigned to sit with her. They’ve strongly encouraged me to stay too because she’s so agitated. Strongly is an understatement. “You need to stay, if you can.”
At first I thought it was odd, not that I was going to leave. But usually people are kicked out of a hospital at night, aren’t they?. Then I see how busy they were. They didn’t have the staff to see to Nana and poor Becky couldn’t take care of her all on her own. The only time those nurses sat was when they were typing something into the computer. I saw no standing around and chatting.
I even suggested a nicotine patch, since Nana’s gone hours without a cigarette and I’m not sure Nana goes five minutes without one anymore. But, that didn’t help either. She just kept banging on the door yelling, “Out.” And then would ask me to take her home.
“We don’t have a home. It burned.”
“Bah.”
“The fire, Nana. Don’t you remember?”
“Home!”
And like that over and over all night. How can she not remember the fire? I’ll never forget it.
I wished they’d just strap her back in. I’m exhausted. It’s nearly seven in the morning and that woman hasn’t slept yet.
No amount of reasoning works to get her back in the bed. Why hasn’t she collapsed from exhaustion already?
Becky stands and offers a sympathetic smile. “My shift is over.”
“Thanks for sitting with us.”
“No problem.”
Another young nurse approaches and begins to unlock the door. Becky and I get on either side of Nana, to keep her from bolting.
The new nurse comes in. “Hi, I’m Debbie and I’m taking over for Becky.”
Becky slips out of the room and Debbie starts talking to Nana, trying to get her back in bed.
“No.” Nana jerks away from her.
“Okay, why don’t we sit by the window?”
She tries to lead Nana to the chair I attempted to rest in last night, but she won’t.
“They’ll be bringing breakfast soon, Mrs. Ferguson. Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“She’s not very cooperative,” I finally say.
Debbie smiles at me. “The nurses filled me in.”
“Are you a student too?”
“No. I work in a different area of the hospital. They want me to observe her.”
“The mental ward,” I say dryly. It’s a bad joke, I know it is, but I’m so fucking tired.
“No.” She sweetly. “I usually work with geriatric patients when they are brought from the nursing homes for whatever reason.”
Well, Nana would be considered a geriatric patient because of her age, but she’s acting more like a three-year-old with no communication skills who’s hopped up on sugar.
“The doctor has asked one of the psychiatrists to come down and evaluate your grandmother.”
Maybe there’s a drug that can help. “Do you know when?” Not that I plan on going anywhere, but I do want to be here when the doctors make their rounds.
“Not until later this morning.”
Nana’s wandered to the window and is looking out. She’s calm and I just want to crawl into her hospital bed and sleep.
Debbie draws me to the other side of the room, close to the door. “Why don’t you get some coffee, or something to eat?” she whispers.
I could do with a break. “Are you sure you’ll be okay with her, alone.”
“We’ll be fine.”
I wave to one of the nurses. She comes forward and unlocks the door. Nana moves quicker than I’ve ever seen her, but Debbie is right beside her, pulling her away. I slip out quickly before Nana can make a break for it.
“Come back!” She’s got her face against the glass door. The look in her eyes is a mixture of pissed and hurt, as if I’ve abandoned her. Way to throw on the guilt, Nana.
She isn’t doing it. I’m doing it to myself. It nearly tears my heart in half. She’s afraid, angry, confused and there isn’t a damn thing I can do but stay with her. But, as horrible and selfish as it is, I need a break. Just thirty minutes or so, some fresh air, and I’ll go back.
I’d tell her, but I know she won’t understand. There’s hardly anything she understands right now.
Her mind is worse than I thought. Is it simply because of her injuries and the strange setting or have I’ve been lying to myself this entire time? It’s like she’s ten times worse than she was when I left her on Friday.
I stop in at the cafeteria to get a large coffee and look over the menu. I’m not even close to being hungry and I take the to-go cup and go outside. The weather is warm again and I just sit, breathing in deep. Every muscle in my body aches from fighting with Nana, trying to get her settled and being on alert each time a nurse came in the door because she wants to escape.
Why the hell isn’t she sleeping? I’ll probably sleep for a week when this is over.
I check the time and call the school. The office staff should be in, but I can’t remember who I’m supposed to report to. The only time I missed, I told Mag about it ahead of time.
The receptionist answers.
“This is Jenna Ferguson. I won’t be able to make it in. Who am I supposed to tell?”
“I’ll put you through to Mag.”
Really? I thought Mag was fundraising and other office stuff.
“Jenna, how’s your grandmother and how are you holding up?”
“You know.”
“Kian called last night.”
I’m so glad I don’t have to explain. I don’t really want to talk about it. “I don’t know how long they’re going to keep her and I don’t want to leave until I talk to a doctor.”
“Take all the time you need. We’ve marked you out for the week.”
“I can’t miss a week of work.”
“It’s paid and falls under our family leave in case of emergencies.”
“Really?”
“It’s built into your contract. It’s so our staff can deal with a family crisis without worry about how they are going to pay bills or if they’ll lose their job.”
That’s the first good news I’ve gotten. I know I had vacation days, but I didn’t want to use them all at once. Not knowing when I’d need them for Nana. “I’m not sure I’ll need the whole week. Can I just let you know?”
“Of course, and call if you need anything at all.”
“Thanks, Mag.”
I put the phone back in my pocket and look around. I can’t go back in yet. It’s horrible of me, but I can’t just yet. Just thinking about it makes my chest heavy. It’s difficult to breathe as if my throat is closing tight. I need to get back to her but I can’t make myself get up from the table.
“There you are.”
I turn to find Cole and Dylan walking toward me. They’re off duty already?
“How is your grandmother?”
I can’t even begin to answer that question. At least not all that’s wrong with her. “She has second degree burns on her arm and smoke inhalation.”
They nod.
“What happened?”
“We think it started in the living room, around the fireplace. The fire investigator is going to go there sometime today,” Cole explains.
“Did she say anything? Give you any idea?” Dylan asks.
“Just ‘leaves’ and then ‘poof’.” I focus on Cole. “But she seemed fine when you checked on her yesterday?”
“It’s like I told you then. She was working in the yard. Feeding her birds, raking leaves off of the plants.”
Dylan’s nodding in agreement. The two of them stopped together on their way into work.
“Maybe that’s what she meant by the leaves,” Dylan says.
Who knows what she meant and I’m too tired to try and figu
re it out.
“There were some in a pile on the ground, kind of burnt, but most of the leaves are still wet so she probably couldn’t get a good fire going.”
I set my coffee aside and rub my eyes. They are scratchy and dry from no sleep. “It’s my fault.”
“Jenna, this isn’t your fault.” Cole puts a hand on my shoulder.
I don’t want his comfort right now and shrug it away. If I give in, I may crumble and I can’t let that happen. “I should have come home.”
“You can’t stay with her twenty-four hours a day,” Dylan insists.
“I didn’t need to spend the night in New York either. If I would have come home, I would have been here and then this wouldn’t have happened.” I know I’m yelling but I’m so angry at myself.
“Are you so sure?” Cole demands. “What if you had gone to your apartment and finished packing.”
I throw my cup of coffee and stand. “At least I would have been close instead of fucking you all night.”
He stiffens and pulls back. Anger flashes in his eyes. It’s an unfair thing to say, but I need to lash out at something or someone, no matter how wrong it is.
“The reason you got back when you did was because you stayed for the brunch,” he says calmly.
“I shouldn’t have done that either.” I stomp away. I should apologize. It isn’t his fault, but its proof that I shouldn’t be involved with anyone right now. Look where it got me. Not spending enough time with Nana, and I wasn’t focused on her. If I hadn’t been so caught up in Cole, maybe I would have noticed she’d gotten worse. “I need to go back in.” As painful as it is to see Nana like this, I shouldn’t leave her alone.
“Jenna, stop.”
I turn and look at Cole. Dylan is hanging back.
“This isn’t your fault. Don’t take it out on yourself.”
“I should have been there.”
“You won’t always be able to. Don’t blame yourself.”
I look him in the eyes so Cole knows that it’s over. I may love him and want to be with him, but not at the cost of Nana. It kills me to break, but I have to do what’s best for my grandmother. “There you’re wrong. I will always be there. She’s my responsibility and I won’t let anything get in the way again. Goodbye, Cole.”
I start after her but Dylan puts a hand on my shoulder. “Give her time.”
“I can’t let her do this to herself.”
“I’m sure she’s had a long night and isn’t thinking straight.”
“Did she just break up with me?” Her words hurt, especially about fucking all night, but it wasn’t so much aimed at me as at her own guilt. I know she wasn’t feeling that way about us Saturday night or yesterday morning.
“She hasn’t left the hospital, Nana’s hurt and her childhood home all but destroyed. Give her a break.”
He’s right. I’ll back off, for now, but I’m not letting her go either.
“Let’s go see what can be salvaged at the house. If anything.”
We drove by the house this morning but didn’t stop. We wanted to get to the hospital first to check on Jenna and her grandmother. If we could have found guys to cover the rest of our shift yesterday, we would have been here with her, but there wasn’t anyone available so we were stuck in the firehouse, waiting for our shift to be over.
We tried to sleep. I don’t know if Dylan did, but I didn’t get much.
Now, Jenna has shut me down and there isn’t much I can do at the moment.
I follow Dylan to Mrs. Ferguson’s house. We get out of our vehicles and just stare at it.
“There’s no basement is there?” I never bothered to ask before.
“Just a shallow crawlspace for pipes, electrical and duct.”
“Walk carefully.” Even if the floor did give and we wouldn’t go far, we could still tear up a knee or a leg.
The front windows are boarded up. The guys took care of it last night after the fire was out because we knew Jenna wouldn’t be able to. Neither one of us has a key to the front door and I follow Dylan around back. He stops at a planter and pulls a key from the inside and unlocks the back door.
The kitchen isn’t burned, but the smoke damage is bad enough that it’ll have to be gutted.
The living room, dining room and the small office are a complete loss. The boxes of books Jenna left are ruined. Some of them from flames, the rest from smoke and water. Not one box, even the ones on the bottom, is unscathed. It sickens me. I know what they meant to her. All gone.
The floor creaks beneath our weight and we step carefully. The ceiling is black but it seems intact for the most part
“Plaster,” Dylan says. “Her grandfather was a construction worker and plasterer.”
All of the walls have that thick plaster you only find in older homes.
“This place was built so long ago it’s probably full of asbestos too.”
“Which probably saved the house.”
“Asbestos. An excellent fire retardant. Too bad it can kill you.”
We slowly make our way upstairs, testing every step before putting our full weight down. It isn’t just on the stairs but everywhere we walk, especially above the living and dining room.
Not one room was spared from smoke damage, but I knew that would be the case. All of the carpet, draperies, everything is going to have to be tossed and who knows when Jenna and her grandmother can get back in here to live.
“What kind of insurance does she have?”
Dylan shrugs. “No idea, but I hope it’s good.”
“Are you working today and tomorrow?”
“No.”
We go back downstairs.
“Let me make some calls. I want to start getting this cleaned up so Jenna doesn’t have to worry about it.”
“I’ll call for a dumpster and see what guys are free.”
Joey made it by noon, since it’s his day off, but we had to wait for the inspectors to get done. I called in a favor, and they got here early, going through the house, testing the stability, before giving us the okay to be inside. We didn’t tell them we’d already walked around.
An insurance guy showed up right after. Jenna must have called them. He roamed through the house, jotting down notes, asking questions about how it started. Since we don’t have the official report, we don’t tell him or even make a guess. Let the insurance company get it from the fire inspector. I’m too afraid it will be something that they can decide isn’t covered and Jenna and her grandmother will be screwed.
“I do know the house has been paid off for years,” Dylan said.
“At least there’s that.” I’d hate to be paying for a place I couldn’t live in. It’d be worse than making payments on a totaled car, which happened to me when I was twenty.
We’re able to get a dumpster into the drive by four, about the time Kian, Alexia and Ben show up to help. They couldn’t come by until school was out. More teachers and counselors stop by, lending a hand. The office is a mess and it takes a couple of us to carry each box of books because the water has soaked into the pages. There’s a sick knot in my stomach each time I have to throw one in the dumpster.
“I can’t believe it.”
Dylan is by the desk. The outside of it is burned and computer melted on top, but the inside isn’t touched. “These are metal drawers, they’re warped but the papers didn’t burn.
“Anything important in there?”
“I should say. Her will, insurance policies, the deed to the house.”
Jenna will need those things. “We should box it up and hold it until she’s ready for it.”
He’s looking through papers and whistles as I continue to lift boxes.
“What?”
“Did Jenna know she owns the house?”
“Huh?”
“Mrs. Ferguson put it in her name about five years ago.”
Twenty-Six
The doctor looks grim and I try and prepare myself for whatever he has to say.
“She ne
eds continued medical care, but we can’t keep her here.” He and the psychiatrist just finished examining Nana and asking me some questions.
“This is a hospital. If she can’t get care here, where the hell can she?” I probably shouldn’t snap at him, but any patience I possessed disappeared hours ago.
“In situations like this, we send the patient to a nursing home to rehabilitate.”
I take a step back from the doctor. Nana is not going to a nursing home. She’d never forgive me.
“Her injuries will be cared for at the nursing home.”
“For how long?”
“That all depends.” The psychiatrist hesitates. “Besides getting the proper medical care, I think it would be good for her to be evaluated—mentally.”
I don’t want to hear this, but I need to. I know I need to, whether I like it or not and my chest tightens, becoming painful. I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, trying to control my anxiety.
“They’ll be able to observe and maybe they can help determine a proper course of treatment.”
“Treatment?” I’m having such a hard time concentrating. I’ve had more coffee than any human should in twenty-four hours. It’s left me shaky and nauseated and is no longer helping me think clearly.
“For her dementia,” he clarifies. “I did speak with her physician, Dr. Vine, and he’s in agreement.
It’s official. They no longer need a scan of Nana’s brain. After getting her background of what I noticed in the past months, and her behavior since she’s been here, they’re as certain as they can be that she’s suffering from dementia.
Maybe this is best. He didn’t say it’s permanent and if they can get her on proper medication, maybe Nana will start making sense again. I know it won’t take her back to what I think of as her normal, but maybe she’ll get better. “Okay,” I finally agree.
Besides, it isn’t like I have a place for her to live right now. I haven’t left the hospital to even look for a new apartment or see what needs to be repaired at the house.
If it can be repaired.
My stomach rolls again. How much was lost? Did the entire place burn down after I left? Is anything salvageable? So many memories in that house. A few of my parents, even though they are foggy and shadowed, other memories of Grandpa, but mostly of Nana.
Shadows of Memories (Baxter Academy) Page 16