“Where do we start?” There’s the sound of near defeat in her voice. I can’t really blame her. There’s a monumental task ahead of her but we’ll see it through.
“You can see if anything is worth keeping from the rooms or I can grab the plans. I’ve got them in the truck.” With each little step, we’ll get through each chore at a time. “Let me get them.”
She nods and I follow her downstairs and back into the kitchen, leaving my iPad on the table. When I return, she’s looking out the back window, grasping the kitchen counter so tight that her knuckles are turning white. “I’ll Stand by You,” by the Pretenders is playing.
“Oh, why you look so sad? The tears are in your eyes. Come on and come to me now.”
Her shoulders are shaking. Has she finally let go?
“Don’t be ashamed to cry.” The lyrics hit me as they must have her and I walk toward her.
Jenna’s head drops, her chin to her chest.
“Let me see you through, ‘cause I’ve seen the dark side too…”
She wipes a tear from her cheek and turns her face away from me.
“When the night falls on you, you don’t know what to do.” I stop beside her. Afraid to touch her because I don’t want her to push me away.
“Nothing you confess, could make me love you less. I’ll stand by you.” I gently touch her shoulder.
Jenna’s legs seem to give way and she drops to her knees, shoulders shaking and she rocking back and forth. I’m on the floor, right next her to, pulling her into my arms. I’ve never seen anyone sob uncontrollably like this before, but it’s what she needs more than anything. She’s been carrying far too much.
“I’ll Stand By You.” Emotion clogs my throat and I hold her close. She needs to know that I am here for her, always, and I will protect her the best that I can. All I want to do is take care of her. Love her. Stand by her, forever.
“Won’t let nobody hurt you. I’ll stand by you.”
“Let it go. All of it.”
Thirty-Eight
I sniff, but don’t pull away. It felt so damned good to cry, but I’m exhausted. I’m cradled in Cole’s lap, his arms tight around me and his cheek resting on my head. I’m surrounded and all I can feel is his love. Why did I fight leaning on him for so long?
He shifts, tilts and then relaxes again right before a white handkerchief is waved before my face.
I grab it, wiping my nose without pulling away or looking up. “You carry a handkerchief?”
“My Pop always said to have one at the ready because you never know when you’ll need one.”
I smile and blow my nose. “Have you needed it often?”
“This is the first time.”
I should get up. He can’t be comfortable, but I can’t bring myself to move. There are still emotions, right under the surface, as if there are tears still needing to get out. I don’t know how that’s possible. I’ve been sobbing through a song and a half.
“Nana’s not coming home is she?” Tears flood my eyes again. Deep down, I always knew this was true but if I denied it long and hard enough, it wouldn’t be.
“I don’t think so, Jenna.” His voice is soft, soothing. Full of love. It touches me deep. I’m not alone. I’ve felt so fucking alone in all of this and Cole has been here. Just waiting for me to need him. Why didn’t I allow myself to need him? Then I wouldn’t be a blubbering mess right now, sitting in the middle of Nana’s ruined kitchen.
He kisses the top of my head and tightens his arms around me, as if he knows I can’t move and that it’s okay.
“Nana took me in and protected me when my parents were killed. She kept me safe.”
“She’s your grandmother. That’s what they do.”
He doesn’t understand. I turn and look him in the eye. “But I’m not doing that for her. Instead of protecting her, being by her side, helping, I put her in a nursing home.”
“Jenna, you don’t have a choice.”
“I hate that she has to be there.”
“It’s okay to hate the situation. But, it’s a good facility,” he reminds me. “The nurses are great.”
“But she’s all alone.” Tears fill my eyes again. I feel as if I just took her and dumped her there with a bunch of strangers. Like someone does when they can’t keep a pet. They just take it to the humane society where it will stay until it finds a home. But that is Nana’s home now. A small room with a hospital bed and strangers taking care of her.
“She’s slipping, Jenna. She is a danger to herself. She burned the house down.”
I know what he’s saying is true but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“I’m not standing by her. I’ve deserted her.”
He grabs my shoulders, forcefully, but it doesn’t hurt, so that I look at him. “You are taking care of her. That is the best place for her. You can visit as often and as long as you want.”
“You should have seen how she looked at me. As if I’d betrayed her, when we were in the ER. All they wanted was to draw blood and it took four people to hold her down. The look in her eyes, the pain and fear, like a child who didn’t understand why I was letting them hurt her.”
“You know it was necessary, right?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it any easier. The look on her face is going to haunt me, I know it.” I rest back against him. I know she can’t come home, but I had to voice it one more time, just in case. And, maybe I can forgive myself one day for failing her. For not seeing the signs earlier and getting help.
Hell, I did see the signs. I just wasn’t putting it all together. If I would have moved back here when school was done instead of getting my own place, we would have had more time together. So many decisions I could have made. I’d give anything for a do-over.
But, I can’t go back. What’s done is done. Nana is in the hands of professionals who are taking good care of her. She’s safe. And really, that is what’s the most important.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here. With me. For being you.”
“I love you.”
“I’d be lost.”
His arms tighten again but he doesn’t say anything.
I snuggle against his chest. I don’t want to ever get up. “Don’t ever leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Ever!”
“Okay.”
I trace my finger around the button at the collar of his shirt. “My father was raised here. I have some memories of my parents in this house. I don’t remember anything about where I lived with them before.”
“You were a little girl when they died.”
“I have more memories of my grandfather.” For some reason I need him to understand how important this house is to me.
“I never met him.”
“That’s too bad. He would’ve liked you.”
“But you have a ton of memories of Nana.”
“Memories are good.”
I pull back and look up into his dark eyes. “Make more with me.”
“Okay.” He’s studying me as if he’s not really understanding.
“In this house. Let’s pick a plan and see it through.”
His lips quirk into a smile and mischief twinkles in his eyes. “Jenna Ferguson, are you asking me to move in with you?”
“Yeah, I think I am.” I bite my lip waiting for him to answer, but he only studies me with a mixture of love, compassion and a touch of seriousness. I hold my breath. Have I put him on the spot and he’s afraid to reject me because I was a mess just a few minutes ago?
The smile is slower, but it finally comes with none of the mischief before. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”
“I feel like I should be on one of those remodeling shows on HGTV.” Jenna laughs as she pulls the kitchen cabinets from the wall. It’s been two weeks since she broke and accepted that Nana would not live here again. There have been a few tearful moments, but positive ones too. And, she deci
ded on which plans to go with. In keeping with making new memories, she decided to remove two of the walls in the dining room. One leads to the kitchen and the other, to the living room.
“Have you decided on a paint color yet?”
“No.” She groans. “I can’t decide on floors, cabinets or even appliances. If I could afford it, I’d hire someone to come in and design the place.”
“But then it would be their vision and not yours.”
She turns and smiles at me. “True.”
“But, at least you have some ideas.” I’ve spent more hours watching HGTV in the past two weeks than I probably have my entire life. It’s not so that I can learn how to do things because Jenna does have contractors, firefighters who work on the house on their off days, but so Jenna can get an idea of what she wants as far as design. We did manage to renovate the master bedroom and bath. Those were the first two rooms to be tackled so that we could move in. When we aren’t working at our jobs, we are working on the house, and I’ll be glad when the kitchen is done because I’ve had about as much takeout food as I can stand.
“Stainless steel or black?” she asks.
I lift my eyebrow and don’t answer. This is her house and I don’t feel that it’s right that I make any decisions. If we were married, I’d not hesitate. But, we aren’t, yet. Hell, I haven’t even asked her. My gut knows we’ll be together and marry eventually, but it’s too soon to ask. Not until her life is a bit more settled. That didn’t stop me from buying a ring though. It’s tucked away in a dresser drawer, just waiting for me to decide the time is right.
Jenna’s phone beeps and I stop hacking away at the next cabinet while she answers.
She glances at it and frowns. “It’s Memory Gardens.”
I put my sledgehammer on the counter and wait. We were there yesterday and were going back this afternoon. Jenna visits her grandmother every afternoon and I go with her if I’m not working.
“Hello.”
The smile slips from her face. I wish I could hear what they were saying.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
My gut clenches. Is this the call I’ve been dreading?
Thirty-Nine
Nana had another episode. I just wish they’d call them strokes because that is what they are. Yesterday was the first time she’d shown any improvement in a while and it was a pleasant visit. We walked outside, holding hands, looked at the spring flowers blooming and rocked in the porch swing. She tired quicker than normal and I had tucked her in before leaving, but she was more lucid than she has been in a really long time.
The nurse meets us in the middle of the hall, concern on her face. It’s the look those in the medical profession have when they have bad news. I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves.
“I’m afraid she is fading,” Beth says gently. “She hasn’t eaten today, nor has she gotten out of bed. She’s been in and out of consciousness.”
“Okay.” I’m not sure what else to say.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think there is much more time.”
“How much time?”
“A few hours or a day.” She winces.
Panic starts to rise. It’s too soon!
I shove it back down. Panic solves nothing and it certainly can’t help Nana. “Is there anything we can do?”
“I’ve called hospice and they should be here shortly.”
I had picked a provider and signed off on having Hospice see to Nana’s care in the nursing home last week for when the time came. I just didn’t think it would be this soon.
“They will be able to give her something to make her more comfortable. Medications that we can’t administer without a doctor.”
Alarm races through me. “Is she in pain?”
“We don’t know. She’s in bed, but not exactly calm. Some of her breathing is labored and she’s not very relaxed.”
“What can I do?”
“Be with her, if you can.”
As if I’d be anywhere else. “Thank you.” I walk past her and go into Nana’s room. She’s lying in bed, her eyes mostly closed, and she’s moving as if trying to get comfortable. I take a seat beside the bed and take her hand in mine. “I’m here, Nana.”
Cole sits in another chair. He hasn’t said a word since we got here, but I’m grateful for his presence.
I squeeze Nana’s hand but she doesn’t squeeze it back. Usually she holds mine as tightly as I hold hers. Now it’s limp, with no strength.
“Why don’t you read to her,” Cole suggests.
Nana did like it when I read. We finished Little Women yesterday and I take another favorite of hers from my bag. “I have The Thorn Birds, Nana. I know this was a favorite of yours too.” I open the book and start reading, glancing up at her occasionally. She does seem to have calmed a bit. I’ll sit here and read through the night if that is what it takes to keep her with me.
I just finish the first chapter when an aide rolls a cart into the room. It has glasses, a bucket of ice, a pitcher of tea and another of water, with a plate of cookies and crackers, some chips and napkins. “We thought you would like something to snack on.”
“Thank you.” I put the book aside and pour a glass of water. My throat is parched form the reading. If the clock is right, I’ve been reading for an hour and a half. Where is Hospice? Nana does seem calmer now, but she might still need something. “I’ll be right back,” I tell Cole and go in search of the nurse.
As soon as Jenna leaves the room, I slip into the chair she’d been sitting in and take Nana’s hand in mine. Leaning forward, I get close to her ear, not sure if she can hear me or not. “If you’re holding on only because you don’t want to leave Jenna alone, you don’t need to.” I glance back at the door, not certain Jenna will be happy with what I have to tell her grandmother. “I love her. I want to marry her. I have a ring and everything and I’m just waiting for the right time.” Of course, Nana gives no indication that she can hear me, but she needs to know. “I know that you’ve waited all these years to be with your husband, Jenna has told me. She says it was the greatest love story of the century and you’ve missed him. It’s okay if you want to go be with him now. You can let go.” I glance back again to make sure we're still alone. “I’ll take care of Jenna. I’ll keep her happy and let her know she’s loved every day of her life. I promise, she won’t be lonely. She’ll miss you, of course, but I promise to be there for her always.”
I sit back, having said my peace. Nana doesn’t react, not that I expected her too. Jenna is out in the hallway talking to the nurse so I pick up the book and start reading where she left off.
Forty
Beth tells me that the person from Hospice won’t be here for an hour or two because the person they are sending is finish up with another patient. When I get back to the room, Cole is sitting where I was and has started reading the next chapter to Nana. I take a seat and grab a cookie. His voice is rich and soothing and it relaxes me.
While Cole reads, I watch Nana. Her eyes are closed, her mouth slightly open and she’s not moving. My heart stops.
I stare at her chest and sigh. She’s still breathing. Maybe she’s asleep? It’s just so hard to tell.
Cole continues reading, seemingly oblivious to my scrutiny of Nana.
Her breaths start to slow as he reads how little Maggie takes responsibility for Robert Cleary being late to school.
I straighten, studying Nana, my heart in my throat.
As Cole continues reading how Sister Agatha disciplines poor Maggie, Nana’s chest doesn’t rise. I stand and go to her.
She breaths again.
“Her breaths are further and further apart.”
Cole glances up and looks at Nana. “I’ll get the nurse.
I take Nana’s hand in mine. It’s cool, but I can hear her breaths.
A nurse comes in and listens to Nana’s heart and checks her breathing. “I’m sorry, but it won’t be long.”
Tears well in my eyes and I gra
sp Nana’s hand tightly. “I love you.” Leaning forward, I kiss her forehead, praying she can hear me and understand and settle back into the chair. Coles places his strong, warm hand on my shoulder and I clutch Nana’s hand in mine. Her breaths are slower and slower and I need her to know she’s not alone.
Her chest rises one last time. A long breath escapes and then no more.
I sit and wait but she doesn’t breathe again.
I stand and kiss Nana one more time.
“I can give you more time to be with her,” the nurse says. I don’t even know where she came from.
“That isn’t necessary.” Tears clog my throat. “She’s gone.”
“She’s at peace,” Cole reminds me.
I smile at him weakly. “She’s with Grandpa.”
Cole leads me from the room. An administrator is standing there, a clipboard in her hands. I’m not sure I’m up to more paperwork.
“We’ll take care of her,” she says with a gentle smile. “The nurses will bathe her one last time and get her ready.”
I nod. One of the many blanks I needed to fill in when Nana was admitted was which funeral home she was to go to in the event she passed. I listed the same one who had handled the arrangements for my grandpa and my parents.
“They’ll call you later.”
“Thank you.” It’s all I can say. My emotions are a jumbled mess and not what I expected. I thought I’d sob, but I’m not. Maybe that will come later. Right now I’m numb and as horrible as it is, a bit relieved. Not that I wanted to ever lose Nana, but I also know she wouldn’t want to live as she had been. There was no getting better and now, she’s free.
Cole and I step outside and I look up. The sky is a bright blue and the weather is warm. This is the type of day Nana loved. It’s the kind of day she once spent in her gardens, weeding, cutting flowers and feeding the birds. The beds have gone dormant in the past few years as she slipped. But, that won’t be the case anymore. The kitchen can wait. “I need to plant flowers.”
“Okay.” Cole must think I’ve gone around the bend.
Shadows of Memories (Baxter Academy) Page 24