When her alarm went off at seven o’clock, she knew she would have to wait. She didn’t want to frighten him. She drank a pot of coffee. Paced. Could she dress up as Robin and visit Frank and then come home and get ready for her interview as Robbie? What was she prepared to do? What was her plan? The radio announcer called the top of the hour. It was nine. Heart pounding, she pressed the speed dial. “Good morning, Frank.”
“Hello, Robin. Are you coming to see me this morning?”
“Sorry. I have a job interview this afternoon and I need to be all shiny and squeaky clean. That’s why I’m calling to tell you I’ll drop in later.”
“Guess I can wait. Not much happening anyway. If it warms up and I can convince the staff, maybe I’ll be outside.”
“Make sure you wear your scarf and mittens. You take care until I see you again.” She didn’t even know if Frank knew what little time was left. Jake said before Christmas. That was a month, four short weeks.
“Don’t feel as if you have to come and see an old man.”
“I want to, so don’t go suggesting I have a little guilt trip. Save that for your grandson.”
“No, not him either. He’s been pretty steady since he’s come home.”
“Good for him. Take care. I have to run.”
She jogged in the park, trying to stay focused on the second interview at Heavenly Treats. Just before lunch, she dressed for the one o’clock appointment in a pantsuit similar to the one she’d worn as Robin. Her black hair was curled and she wore blush, foundation, eye shadow, mascara, and lipstick. She didn’t wear the scarf today. She carried her résumé in the same portfolio as she had as Robin yesterday.
Another parking meter, another two hours paid for. Today, she’d appreciate running into Jake and receiving his good wishes but that would really be too much synchronicity. Robbie was a masters’ student. She was qualified to apply for this position. With her shoulders back and head held high, she approached Ms. Winston and introduced herself.
“Good afternoon. Robbie Smith for a one o’clock appointment.”
“One moment.” Ms. Winston closed the file she worked on, then rounded her desk and said, “Follow me.”
Ms. Winston wore a suit similar to yesterday but today it was a deep shade of caramel, with matching shoes. This woman knew how to dress for success.
Robbie was led directly into Mrs. Jones’ office. Today she slid into the chair with ease. Mrs. Jones asked the same questions. Robbie tried to give the same responses as she had when she was dressed as Robin Smyth.
“Robbie, do you understand the importance of image in the food industry?”
This was new. Robbie looked directly at Mrs. Jones and replied, “Of course, image is always important in any business.”
Mrs. Jones fingered her smooth hairstyle and flicked an imaginary speck from her tailored blouse. Then she said, “Because we’re in the food industry our staff is required to maintain good physical shape. We can’t give our customers even the slightest hint that eating our food may cause weight gain.”
“But all food, if eaten in large quantities with little exercise, can cause a weight gain.”
“That’s true. Do you have self control?”
“I eat a healthy diet and you’ll see in my résumé that I have a membership in a health club and that I walk or run almost daily,” Robbie said.
“What about your parents?”
“What do they have to do with this?” Robbie leaned forward.
“Genetics.”
“From the family photographs, we seem to be above average in height with a medium body frame.”
“Excellent. Your credentials are very promising. Do you have any questions for me?”
“On your website, it states that your company has a health plan. Does it reimburse employees for time to work out and health club costs or nutrition counseling?”
“No. We assume employees would be proud and would manage those areas on their own.”
“What happens if an employee puts on weight due to medication?”
“We would find an area that’s less visible until the situation is rectified.”
“And no one has filed a suit against the company?”
“Not since I’ve been in charge. We promote hard-working independent women into management.” Mrs. Jones swiveled in her chair.
“When will your team make the hiring decision?”
“Eve will telephone the successful candidate at the beginning of next week. I know you’d enjoy working with us at Heavenly Treats.”
“Thank you for your time but I disagree. I couldn’t work at a company where my dress size and genetics were used as a mark of achievement.”
Robbie turned on her heel and marched out of the office. If she had heroic powers, she’d find a closet and change into Robin and go right back in there and flick the fluff off of Mrs. Jones’ shoulder and tell her what she could do with her Heavenly Treats.
Today there wasn’t a parking attendant ready to write out a ticket because the interview hadn’t taken the same amount of time. Robbie wanted to report this incident to human resources immediately. She needed to slow down. This is the type of proof she needed for her thesis. She knew one thing was for certain, she wasn’t turning on the ignition until she had herself under control.
Later when she drove past the park, Frank was there in a wheelchair, all bundled up with a blanket around his knees. She parked in a vacant spot and stomped through the park.
“Hi, Frank,” she said and plopped down beside him.
He raised his gray brows. “Have we met?”
She’d been so excited seeing him outside and on his bench that she’d forgotten she didn’t have her suit until he was confused by her appearance. She considered spilling the beans. But then she thought about his Mabel, and her friends, Mavis, Sharon, and Margaret. “Sorry. I’m Robbie.” She extended her hand. “I’ve waved at you whenever I’ve run by. Robin, my friend, told me your name and that you feed the geese.”
“Your mamas didn’t have much of an imagination when they named you girls.” He strained against the blanket across his knees.
She decided not to comment on the names. Maybe if she didn’t say anything more she’d be able to climb out of the hole she’d dug for herself. “You’re wrapped up pretty warm today.”
“Between the staff and my grandson they wrapped me up like a mummy. I can’t get my bread for the geese.”
“The lake’s almost frozen. I don’t think any will come today.”
He turned and looked at her while she spoke. “You sound like Robin. You could be twins, similar shaped eyes, different color though.”
“Could we really?” Robbie chewed the inside of her lip.
“You move your hands the same.”
She tucked her hands into her pockets.
“You’re about the same height but you’re smaller,” he said.
“True.” Robbie couldn’t just leave. Frank looked so vulnerable sitting alone beside the frozen lake. “Guess we’re not as individual as we think.” She’d have to chance that he wouldn’t notice other similarities. “Can I push you back home?”
“May as well. Since the geese seem to have left.”
She maneuvered the wheelchair across the street. An attendant met them at the door, and Frank called over his shoulder. “If you see Robin before I do, tell her I’m expecting her later.”
“I will.”
He swiveled in the chair again. “You can come, too, anytime you want.”
Robbie hastened back to her car as fast as her interview shoes would take her. She needed to change and visit Frank again, but this time in the shape he recalled with fondness.
Chapter 10
Robbie opened the door to Frank’s room an hour later
and saw his white knuckles and curled fingers clutching the bed sheet. A small moan escaped from his lips.
“Frank,” Robin said.
His eyelids flickered and he turned his head toward her voice. She tiptoed to the bed. The room was dim. The sun set earlier every day. His lips pulled into a tight grimace.
“Are you in pain?” she asked.
He laid his head against the pillow and nodded.
“Have they given you medication?”
He whispered, “Yes.”
She reached for the chair, placed it at the bedside, then draped her coat over the back and held his hand through the side rail. Her father, the doctor, had often expounded that silence was good company. He always went on and on about visitors trying hard to fill rooms with the sound of their voices.
Robbie blinked back tears. She didn’t want to burden him with her emotions. Her parents were healthy. Unless there was a dreadful accident, she wouldn’t be walking in Jake’s shoes anytime soon. In the distance, she heard a phone ring and a resident mumbled for attention from the staff. She waited. Frank’s breathing deepened.
“The pain’s almost gone,” he whispered. A few deep breaths later, he said, “Robbie must have phoned you.”
“We met on the street. She told me you were out and about. You don’t mind, do you?” She put her head against the bed rail.
“No. Jake will be here soon, too.” He tried to push up on his elbows and looked at her. “He’ll need a friend when this is over.”
“We’ve never talked about what’s happening with you. Will you tell me?”
“Short answer. I have an acute leukemia. Mainly hits kids or us old guys.”
“But they are discovering better ways of handling cancer every day,” she said. She didn’t want him to give up hope.
“Good news is they can cure kids, but the cure isn’t the same for us.” He fell back against the pillow again.
She hadn’t thought about later. Her over-the-top compulsion had brought her to this. If only she’d stopped and talked with Frank at other times rather than running past him. It was too late. She couldn’t explain to Frank that she was deceiving him and his grandson. It wasn’t total deception. Her emotions were true. She respected and liked them both very much but there was the big problem of the disguise, the pretense. “I’ll try. He’ll have other friends and colleagues.”
Frank’s eyelids drooped. “If a man has the same number of friends as fingers on both his hands, he is very lucky.”
“You should rest before Jake comes. He’s the important one, after all.”
His head wobbled on his neck. “Help me into my chair. I’m better when I’m up.”
Frank controlled the button that lifted the head of the bed. Robin lowered the side rail. He slowly moved his legs to the edge of the bed and then dropped them over the side within inches of the floor. She stood close to him when he slid his feet into his slippers. She cupped his fingers in her palm while he walked to the recliner. She tucked the blanket around his legs, then leaned toward him. “Would you tell me how you met Mabel?”
Frank closed his eyes and a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I loved to ice skate. The war was over. Someone played the organ in the arena back then. One night after the announcer asked for requests, I wanted to hear a song I heard while I was in Paris. I was full of myself back then. When I went up to the booth, I saw the talented player was a woman. I remember that I almost swooned when she turned and looked at me with deep blue eyes and a full moon face. She apologized to me for not knowing the song just before a big bear of a man pointed the way to the door. For the rest of the night, I’d skid to a stop just under the glass booth and doff my hat to her after every song.”
“Did you take her home?”
Frank chuckled. “Not that easy. The bear in the office was her father.”
He’d stopped talking, his forehead wrinkled in concentration. She knew he was remembering events from more than half a century ago. With her legs crossed at the ankles, she waited.
“Mabel wasn’t there for a few Saturdays in a row, but when my skates hit the ice on New Year’s Eve, I knew she was back. The melodies were light and fun.” His eyes twinkled. “I skated with every unmarried woman at the rink. Near midnight, I heard my song. I darn near caused a collision when I stopped and tipped my hat at the booth.”
“Then he wrestled the bear to the ground,” Jake said from the door to the room. “And they lived happily ever after.”
Frank leaned forward. “Jake, my boy.”
“Hi, Granddad. Robin.” Jake bowed from his waist and with a flick of his wrist he swept off his knitted hat in a grand movement.
“Jake, you look like I imagine Frank looked when he courted Mabel. The love is in his voice.” Then she sighed and shifted her arms across on her belly. She remembered that she wasn’t in the middle of a love story anymore. When she looked at Jake’s mouth and remembered the sadness, she wanted just for a second for him to recognize her as Robbie, the woman who had given him a warm place to be and something comforting to drink. But not here, not now. It would hurt Frank to discover that she was pretending to be a woman like Mabel. With her hands gripped on the side of the chair, she stood.
Jake raised his eyebrows. “Stay where you are and listen to the end of the story.”
“No, you two visit. You’re family. I’ll hear it in installments.” Robbie couldn’t bear to be around Jake for lengths of time. She knew his observation skills were probably recording details subconsciously and when he wasn’t worried about Frank, he’d start to ask questions that she didn’t want to answer before she defended her thesis research and passed.
“You’ve done something different to your hair,” Frank said.
Robbie glanced in the mirror and patted her wig. “No.” She dipped her head. Darn. In her hurry, she’d forgotten her colored contacts.
Frank continued staring at her. “Something’s different.”
Robbie snagged her coat from the back of the chair and hurried toward the door. “I’ll be back for more of your love story.” She had to leave. “Take care, you two.” Tossing her scarf over her shoulder and carrying her coat, she closed the door behind her to keep the noises from the halls away from the serenity of Frank’s room.
Jake felt helpless after Robin left the room. His grandfather’s death was a sure thing and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Frank looked peaceful with his head leaning against the side of the chair. Robin might have been insulted when he hired her to spend time with Frank but it was one of the best decisions that Jake had made since he returned home. He would have to ask her for an account of her hours and keep the arrangement as professional as possible. He’d learned a lesson with his funding investigation. His lawyer’s information indicated that someone had spent money without approval when they were in Botswana. Since Jake’s signature was on the budget, he was responsible. The forensic audit would produce the details. He’d have to be patient.
Jake reviewed the few possessions in the room. Frank’s life was captured in photographs, his clothes, his chair, and his stories. It would be comforting for Frank to tell someone his story and he would like Robin to hear it. “Granddad, did Robin mention anything about her job interview?”
“No. I’m sure she’ll do well at whatever she tries.”
“She must be between jobs now. She seems to visit throughout the day,” Jake said.
“She doesn’t talk about herself, just like your Grandma,” Frank said.
Jake looked for an indentation on the chair Robin had vacated. She’d probably had sedentary jobs like most people these days. He wondered when his insidious prejudice toward size began. It felt as old as he was, but as a little boy, he scrambled into the spot on the sofa after his grandmother left, soaking up the lingering warmth from her body. When
he sat on the chair where Robin had been, there wasn’t any lingering body warmth. It seemed as if she held her warmth inside. He stretched his legs out and leaned back and watched Frank sleep.
He must have dozed. He dreamt of laughing and talking with Robin but not Robin. He arched his back and straightened when the dinner announcement reverberated through the halls and penetrated the closed door. Frank scrubbed the fatigue from his eyes. “Staying for supper?”
The thought of mushy peas, sloppy mashed potatoes, and ground beef in gravy shuddered through Jake’s brain. “Sure. I’ll stay.”
Frank shifted from side-to-side to the edge of the chair and stood. “Be forewarned. I didn’t sign you up. There may not be enough.”
A small hope lingered. “I can have coffee and get something later.” With his arm around his grandfather, they followed the other residents to the dining room.
“Frank, Jake, nice to see you.” An attendant in a colorful smock and tiny red bells dangling from her ears said as she offered Frank his chair.
“My boy here hasn’t reserved a spot. Can he just sit beside me?”
“Of course. Grab one of the folding chairs over by the window, Jake.”
“Will do. I’ll have a coffee and keep these men company.” Jake turned to find the chair. While he carried the chair to the table, he tried to remember the names of the men who shared Frank’s table. Right, Adam from a small town. Roger, a retired carpenter, the third was an uncommon name, Alphonse? Elmer? He couldn’t remember; he’d have to ask.
Frank had everything under control, “Adam, Roger, Julienne, you remember my grandson, Jake.”
“How could we forget? You tell us about him all the time.” Roger spread his serviette onto his lap.
Frank shrugged.
“The doctor, right?” Julienne fumbled with his utensils.
“A doctor of anthropology, so not helpful to you if you need any pills,” Frank said, “But he can tell a lot of stories.”
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