Truly Yours Contemporary Collection December 2014
Page 49
Debbie gazed at the picture frame decorating the bedside table. In the middle of the portrait sat Elvina in a huge chair, surrounded by her family. Two men and three women stood beside the chair, all with graying hair. A host of grandchildren and great-grandchildren formed a semicircle around them. The photographer probably had to use a hefty, wide-angle lens to capture all the smiling faces that comprised the huge family. For a moment, Debbie wondered which one in the photograph was this Nathaniel whom Elvina so highly praised.
As if Elvina could see Debbie examining the photo, she said, “Six babies, even though there are only five in the picture. One was killed in Vietnam. Albert, my oldest. He was Nathaniel’s father.”
Debbie focused once more on the old record player and the writing scrawled on a gift tag in the shape of a Christmas bell. Nathaniel J. “The J must stand for his middle name?” she wondered out loud.
“Nathaniel James,” Elvina supplied. “He signs everything to me Nathaniel J. He’s just like his father, with his own way of doing things. I so wish Nathaniel could have known his father, but Nathaniel wasn’t even born when Albert died in a helicopter crash over Vietnam. Albert was just like his father before him, you see, joining the army and all.”
Debbie listened while Elvina reminisced about her family. She wished she could stay all day and listen to her stories. The time displayed on a small alarm clock alerted her to the work she still needed to accomplish before noon, including hanging the rest of the colored lights over the doorway of the nurses’ lounge. “Let me help you into your wheelchair, Elvina,” she said as she slid a pair of shoes on over the cotton socks Elvina wore to bed every night. “Then I have to run and check on a few of the other residents.” Elvina nodded and held up her arms. Debbie bent her knees, encircled the resident with her arms, and slowly propelled her into a wheelchair outfitted with a soft pad. She placed a flowered robe across Elvina’s lap then took up a comb and gently fluffed out her curly gray hair.
“You always do such a nice job,” Elvina commented. “Now before you leave, would you mind putting on a record for me?”
Debbie turned to the box, unfastened the clasps once more, and lifted the top. Beside the box lay several records. “You want to hear the one about the doggy in the window?”
“That would be fine. It’s my favorite.”
Debbie slipped the record out of its jacket, placed the large disc on the turntable, and positioned the needle carefully on the record. A scratching noise came through the small speakers inside the box before the female vocalist began the opening bars of Elvina’s favorite song. The tune followed Debbie out into the corridor, where several of the residents in their wheelchairs had paused in the hallway to listen. She returned to the string of lights still hanging from the doorway, examining the bulbs, one by one, for the culprit that had lacerated her finger.
“What’s that racket I hear?” asked Trish. The fellow nursing assistant sat inside the lounge sipping a mug of coffee.
“Elvina’s record player.” Debbie yanked out the broken bulb. “Do we have any extra bulbs?”
“Look in the first drawer on the left at the nurses’ station,” Trish replied. “You know, I haven’t heard a song like that since I visited Granny’s house when I was little. ’Course that was before my parents split up. Never got to see her after that. Then she died.”
Debbie pulled out the drawer to fetch a package of bulbs. “Elvina’s grandson bought the record player for her. He found one like her original in an antique store.”
“So that’s what the mystery gift was,” said Trish. Debbie couldn’t help but peer inside the lounge at the aide who sat there smirking. “Her grandson came strutting in here last week while I worked an evening shift, saying he was buying his grandma a gift to remember. Wish he would get me a gift to remember. . .like a diamond ring.”
“A diamond ring!” Debbie said in astonishment, mounting the stepladder to finish fastening the string of lights above the doorway.
“You’ve never met the hunky grandson? Wow, is all I can say. And he’s so devoted to her. What guy do you know comes in almost every evening to spend time with an old lady? Guess that’s why he’s not married. No social life. Though he can come here anytime his little ol’ heart desires, just as long as he eventually asks me out. Better yet, make it a marriage proposal. I’m not getting any younger.”
Debbie fumbled with the tacks, trying to stick them into the wall above the doorway to anchor the lights, but she found Trish’s words distracting.
“Normally I never pay attention to the visitors who come walking in here,” Trish went on. “You can’t help but notice him, though. Tall. Huge shoulders. Wavy dark hair and eyes to die for. I’ll bet he’s the reason everyone on the evening shift wants to be assigned to the rooms in the front hall. They fight like cats and dogs over who will take care of Elvina so they can spend time with the handsome grandson.”
Debbie could just imagine the nurses on the evening shift, circling the nurse in charge like a pack of wolves and fighting over the string of rooms located in the front corridor. She never once considered asking for certain rooms just so she could interact with the visitors. For some reason, Mrs. Whitaker always assigned her room 307 where Elvina resided. It became routine. But now with all this talk of the handsome grandson, Debbie wondered if she should switch to the evening shift for a week, just to see what the hubbub was about. Then she thought better of it. Trish and the gang would no doubt vie for the treasured room. As it was, Debbie couldn’t stand how Trish cared for the residents. Trish took shortcuts that irritated her to no end.
“All done,” Debbie announced, stepping back to admire the colored lights glimmering from the doorway. Around the nursing station, she had strung a rope of plastic holly and berries. Inside the lounge, a Christmas tree decorated a far table that once held the huge coffeepot. Another tree of red ribbons and white lights decorated the inside of the solarium where the residents congregated for meals, entertainment, or television. Debbie always found the holidays difficult at the facility. Some of the residents would become depressed at the idea of spending the most celebrated time of the year cooped up inside a health-care facility rather than at home with relatives. A few were fortunate enough to have families willing to keep them over the holidays, but most spent their holidays here with the nursing staff. Knowing she was scheduled to work on Christmas, Debbie was determined to make the time as festive as possible. She made a mental list of the things she wanted to do—bake up a batch of Christmas cookies for those who could have sweets, coax the church youth choir into performing a selection of Christmas carols at the facility on Christmas Eve, and buy a few gifts for her favorite residents, like Elvina. For a moment, she wondered what this Nathaniel would think if she came walking in on Christmas morning with a gift for his grandma—like a few new records to play on the ancient record player. Would he smile at her and show her some interest?
Forget it, Debbie. Don’t get yourself all worked up. You’ve managed to strike out with every guy you’ve ever met. Remember how the one you loved ended up marrying your roommate? So don’t set yourself up for further disappointment. Debbie sighed, recalling with pain her close friendship with Brad. She always assumed one day their friendship would turn to love—until she discovered his real interest lay with her roommate, Tonya. When the fact came to light, Debbie felt both betrayed and used. Brad and Tonya were now married and living in Washington, D.C., with their two kids. She received a Christmas picture card from them every year, and every year she would gaze at his handsome face and think of all she had lost. Guess I’m just not cut out for love.
Despite this, the thought of Nathaniel, whoever he might be, sent a snippet of hope rising up within her. Perhaps some day he would discover that it was she who kept his grandma looking so fine each day. Maybe then he would want to find out more about her. Dream on. He won’t even notice me among all the rest here.
I’m one out of many.
Debbie strolled over to her small steel cart to put away the linens left from the morning care, still thinking about the man called Nathaniel J. He must be a one-of-a-kind guy to forgo a social life to spend evenings with Elvina. Even going to great lengths to find her a treasured keepsake like the record player. Debbie inhaled a breath. I would like to meet him someday, even if it goes no further than that.
❧
Debbie stepped out into the frigid December air after a long day at work. Inhaling the breath of wind that brushed her face, she detected the faint scent of smoke drifting from a nearby fireplace or woodstove. Her feet scuffed along the slick sidewalk, still covered by patches of ice from a recent storm. The cold wind ripped through her jacket while she gazed up into the darkening skies above. Behind her stood the brick building of the White Pines Health Care Facility, framed by a grove of pine trees, glazed with ice, which gave the facility its name. Twin wreaths decorated the front doors. White lights glimmered in pretty array on the bushes. A few cars drifted into the parking lot, bearing visitors who came to sit with their loved ones through the dinner hour. She watched them arrive one by one, wondering which one might be this Nathaniel J. Some were older people dressed in their heavy wool coats. Others toted children along with them. Debbie smiled, knowing how much the elderly residents loved seeing the faces of children. Every year, Debbie coordinated a Christmas Eve performance and a few youth groups would come to the facility to sing traditional Christmas carols, including the youth group from her own church. At that moment, she wished the group could sing Elvina’s favorite song about the doggy in the window. Debbie smiled, thinking how surprised Elvina would be if the group suddenly broke out into the song from long ago. She could imagine the scene—the tears drifting slowly down Elvina’s plump cheeks, her gnarled hand fumbling to find Debbie’s and give a squeeze of gratitude. “You made my day,” her voice would crack. And standing behind her, smiling in approval, would be her grandson, Nathaniel J.
Stop it, Debbie, she scolded herself. Get the guy out of your head. He’s probably already got a girlfriend, for all you know.
She continued down the road, still thinking about an encounter with Elvina’s grandson, when her feet flew out from underneath her. She fell hard on her backside in the road, just as a car swerved around the bend to enter the parking lot of the facility. Brakes squealed as the car came to an abrupt halt by the curb opposite her. Debbie slowly sat up, her tailbone screaming in pain.
“Are you all right?” inquired an anxious voice.
“Yeah,” she sputtered, trying to get to her feet. Instead, she felt a shooting pain running down each leg. Her legs wobbled, and she collapsed onto the road with a grunt.
“Here, let me give you a hand.” A tall figure, dressed in a wool overcoat, offered her his gloved hand. She grasped his hand, squeezing her eyes shut to ward off the pain, and gingerly got to her feet.
“It’s pretty slippery out here,” said the man’s voice.
“Yeah,” Debbie mumbled again, hobbling along the sidewalk. “Thanks.”
“Can you drive?”
“My car’s in the garage. I walked today. My apartment’s not that far. I can make it.”
“Pretty dangerous to be walking in this kind of weather along a major highway. I’ll gladly give you a lift.”
Debbie stared into his dark eyes, and he peered back in concern. He didn’t seem to fit the description of someone trying to take advantage of her. No doubt he was a visitor coming to see someone at the facility. “I’m fine, but thanks for the offer.” Debbie continued down the road, even as her back erupted into spasms with every step she took. Once more her feet slipped on the ice. She would have fallen a second time had she not, at the last moment, grabbed hold of a young tree at the corner.
“I don’t think you’re going to make it without doing more harm than good,” the man said, rushing to her side. He offered her his arm.
“You don’t need to help me. I’m sure you’ve got things to do. I’m okay, really.”
“You’re not okay. If you’re as close as you say, it probably won’t take me ten minutes, tops, to drive you home. I have plenty of time. I’m meeting a fine lady, and she won’t mind if I’m being a hero in disguise. She likes heroes.”
So he has a girlfriend who works at the facility, Debbie thought. Guess there’s no harm in getting a lift then. She allowed him to guide her to his car. She eased herself into the passenger seat, wincing in pain as the tender area of her back pressed against the seat.
“I take it you work at White Pines,” he said, pointing at her baby blue nursing pants that peeked out from beneath the coat she wore and her white clogs in desperate need of polish.
“I just got off the day shift. Normally I get off at three, but they needed a few extra hands for a couple of hours until help arrived. It looks like I may be working late the rest of this week.”
“How long have you worked at White Pines?”
“Eight years,” Debbie said. She hunkered down in the seat and watched the scenery flash by. “When you get to town, turn right at the next stop sign. My apartment building is on the left.”
“Do you like nursing?”
“It’s okay. The holidays are tough, though. We try to do what we can to make it special for the residents.”
He steered the car into an empty space in front of the building.
“Thanks a lot.”
“Sure. You need help getting to the door?” He added quickly, “Of course I won’t go in or anything. I just want to make sure you don’t fall.”
Debbie detected a gentlemanly quality about him that put to rest any remaining fears. She accepted his assistance and grasped the crook of his proffered elbow.
He paused at the door. “Better put some ice on that bump you have and take some ibuprofen.” He laughed. “Hey, wait a minute. Why should I be telling you what to do? You’re a nurse.”
“A nursing assistant,” she corrected.
“What’s the difference?”
“I didn’t earn a college degree. LPNs and RNs have degrees and a license to practice. I took a training course, but that’s all. I don’t deal with medications, procedures, that sort of thing. I basically take care of the residents’ needs like bathing, dressing, feeding, etc.”
He nodded his head. “I see. You do all the labor.”
“I guess so, in a way. Though the RNs have to make all the tough decisions. I’ve thought of one day getting a full-fledged degree, but I’m not sure I could take the stress of being the boss.” Her smile ignited a grin on his face. His bright teeth matched the bit of snow that glazed the bushes. “You’d better get going so you aren’t late for your date.”
His dark eyebrows lifted at the comment before another grin swept across his face. “My date,” he repeated. “I’ll have to tell her that one. She’d get a kick out of it. Take care of yourself and no more spills. Ice can hurt.” He nodded and strode to his car.
Debbie watched his departure from her doorway as he turned the car around in the parking area and sped off in the direction of White Pines. She leaned against the door frame before the shooting pain in her back reminded her of her need for rest. So long, my wonderful benefactor, she thought with a sigh. Too bad you already have someone else.
Two
“Hey, Gram.”
“Nathaniel, I just knew it was you walking through the door. I can tell because you’re wearing that Blue Ice cologne I gave you.” Her face erupted into a broad smile. “Now you sit right here by me and tell me how your day went.”
“You never change,” he said with a smile, stooping to kiss her wrinkled cheek. He withdrew at that moment to find a small blotch of color on her cheeks. “Where did the blush come from? I don’t remember Aunt Grace sending any blush. Just tubes of that hot red lipstick.”
“It’s my little nurse who takes care of me during the day, don’t you know? She put some on my face. I told her I’m all set now to meet a man.”
He snickered as he sat down beside her and took her hand in his. “Gram, you’re something else.”
“I asked her if she had a man, and she said no. Maybe you should see if she’s right for you?”
Neil, as he was nicknamed by his friends and family, could only shake his head, even though Gram could not see the look on his face. She never changed but kept after him about the relationship thing as though it were a secret mission of hers. Just then a nurse from the evening shift bopped in for a moment and offered him her brightest smile. Soon after, she came strolling in again with a tray bearing cups of ice, sodas, and Gram’s favorite sugar cookies, freshly baked in the facility kitchen. Not again, he groaned to himself. He began feeling more and more uncomfortable visiting Gram in the evening with all the nurses who came snooping around the room. Some, like this one, offered goodies. Others asked him questions about work, interests, cars, and the like. He knew they were trying to determine his eligibility. Gram always laughed at the attention and poked him in the arm, asking him when he would invite one of the young ladies out.
“Nurses aren’t my type,” he would tell her.
“Why not? They’re caring individuals.”
Neil twisted his lips. Not this crew. They are looking to make a conquest, like I’m the Bachelor of the Year or something.
“Nathaniel, you’re upset,” Gram now said. “I can tell by the way you’re holding my hand. Is it the evening nurse who just came in?”
“She’s doing the usual routine to make some kind of impression. Your cookies, my soda. I’m surprised she didn’t give me a business card with her phone number on it and the nights she’s available for dinner.”
“Oh, you,” Gram said, squeezing his hand. “None of them can help it. You’re a wonderful young man. This wouldn’t be happening if you found yourself the right girl to settle down with.”