Just In Time

by Joan Lindstedt Jackson

  “But the aide can call to remind you when she’s coming,” Marcie added.

  “That’d be great,” he said. “And how will he get groceries?”

  “The aide can do that, but she’ll have to have access to money to buy them,” Marcie said. “Steve should probably go with her.”

  “I’d have to go to the store? With the aide?” Steve was getting agitated. He got up and started to pace. “I don’t even know how to buy groceries.”

  “The aide will know how,” Sylvia reassured him. “And I’ll make a grocery list. All you have to do is be there to pay for it.”

  “And how will I do that? Can I have a smoke?”

  “Sure,” Sylvia said. “Go ahead. We’ll discuss how to do this.”

  Steve left for the garage while she and Marcie continued the discussion.

  “He’ll have to go with her to the store,” Sylvia said. “There’s no other way. I can’t trust someone to have access to funds.”

  “I agree,” Marcie said. “He’ll just have to get used to it.”

  “Can you come by to monitor this for a while?”

  Marcie hesitated. “Well, it’s not really part of my duties, but I’d be willing to come once maybe.”

  Sylvia was pissed. Not a part of her duties? Then what was? Driving Steve to appointments? She sure wasn’t like Ted, the last living specialist. The situation was getting more complicated by the minute. “Will the same aide come each time?”

  “I’ll try to arrange that.”

  “That’s paramount here,” Sylva said. “I must have the same person come each time. Otherwise, it’ll be a nightmare. Steve needs to get used to people.”

  Marcie nodded. “I understand. I’ll make that a contingency.”

  “Good.” At least that will work out, Sylvia thought. “So you’ll let me know as soon as possible when she’ll start? It has to be a woman, by the way. And not a black woman. Steve has a problem there. I know it’s not PC, but that’s the way it is with him. And for no reason that I know of. Maybe he’s just stuck in the sixties.”

  Marcie laughed. “No problem. Many are like that.” She got up to leave. “I know this is more difficult with you living so far away, but it will be fine. I’ll do my best to come at the beginning, after you’ve left. And I’ll keep in touch with you.”

  “Thank you,” Sylvia said. “I need that.”

  After Marcie left, Sylvia decided she’d have to be here when the aide came. Even if she had to change her flight, again. The logistics were sounding more difficult than she’d imagined. Mostly the grocery shopping. She’d have to insist to Steve that he had to shop with the aide, otherwise it wouldn’t work. But she could imagine him telling the aide that he didn’t need anything, just so he wouldn’t have to go. Her head was spinning, so she sat down at her desk in the family room and began to make two lists: one of food items, one of household tasks. At least that made the situation feel manageable.

  29

  SEPTEMBER 10, 2002

  Adam arrived two days before the wedding. Sylvia was waiting in the driveway to greet him. He practically dove out of the car to embrace her. “I’ve missed you so much. I keep thinking about our trip to the French River, sitting on that boulder, watching the Northern Lights that night, swimming naked.”

  That night Adam had said a prayer to his sister who died of lung cancer eight years before. They were very close to each other. He’d prayed that she ‘speak’ to him, and the Northern Lights appeared soon after. He said it was her answer to him.

  “Seems ages ago. I still can’t believe we saw them. It’s like a dream.”

  “I want us to go away again, soon. You need it more than ever,” he said.

  She kissed him. “I love your thinking.”

  Steve came outside. He looked down and turned.

  “Hey, Steve. Come here.” Adam reached to hug him and Steve hesitantly hugged back.

  “Didn’t want to break this up,” Steve smiled.

  “You’re not,” Adam said.

  “Can I get your bag?”

  “No, I’ll get it. Thanks.” Adam grabbed his overnighter, and they all headed into the house. “How about a swim?”

  “Perfect,” Sylvia said. “Steve, do you want to join us at the lake?”

  “Naw, you guys go,” he said, heading toward the garage.

  “How about steaks on the grill tonight?” Adam asked.

  “Sounds great,” Steve said. “I haven’t had a steak in years!”

  Sylvia looked at Adam. “Not true,” she whispered.

  “Then it’s time you had one,” Adam called out to him.

  “Let’s drive to the lake. Too hot to walk,” Sylvia said.

  “Fine with me.”

  They got in their bathing suits and left. After a quick dip in the lake, a wind kicked up, so they took a Sunfish—a small sailboat available for members of the village—out for a short sail. When they got back, Adam left to go to the store for the steaks.

  The phone rang. It was her son, Trevor. “Guess what, Mom?”

  Sylvia held her breath for a second. Even though he’d held it together for two years, she never knew what might come next with him. First clean and sober living, then modeling. It was nothing short of amazing that her son was now following in the footsteps of Scott. After his first job with Abercrombie & Fitch, he’d been working nonstop. “Honey, what’s going on?”

  “I’m going to Paris!” he exclaimed.

  “What?” Sylvia gasped.

  “Yep. My agent wants me to hook up with an agent there. I’ll be doing a runway show and more.”

  “I’m thrilled!” Sylvia could hardly believe it. “I wish I could go.”

  “Me, too. You can speak the language. Now I wish I’d taken your advice and learned French.”

  “You won’t even need it,” Sylvia reassured him. “When do you leave?”

  “In two days. I can’t wait.”

  “Do you know for how long?”

  “No, it depends on how much work I get,” he replied. “It could be months.”

  “I wish I could see you before you go.” Though, honestly, Sylvia’s relief over Trevor’s sobriety, and his ability to support himself, made up for the ache of missing him. This was more than she ever dreamed possible for him. And for her.

  “I know. Me, too,” Trevor said. “I’ll keep you posted.”

  “I know you will. Mommy do.”

  “Son do.”

  This sweet code emerged long ago, when Trevor was little. Instead of writing “I love you,” they’d signed notes to each other with “Mommy do” and “Son do.” And so it carried on.

  The wedding was held at the home of a childhood friend of Nancy’s, in a colonial-style mansion with white pillars, a circular drive, immaculate gardens, and a patio in back. Nancy and Martin were standing out front as cars pulled up. Valet service was provided by the owner. Adam and Sylvia got out of the car to greet his sister and Martin. Nancy squealed as she hugged Adam with all her might, while Sylvia stood there wondering what to do with herself. She approached Martin with a smile and gave him a brief hug, congratulating him. Then she quickly moved to Nancy to avoid any awkward conversation with Martin, but her earlier dread of seeing him soon dissolved. The occasion and Adam’s presence diffused any unpleasantness. She knew she’d make it through the evening, maybe even finding it enjoyable. The ceremony was casual and touching, and she honestly hoped that Nancy and Martin would stay happily married. Sylvia hung out with Nancy’s youngest son, Kyle, whom she’d always liked. His marriage was in jeopardy (he’d met someone else), which was no real surprise to Sylvia. His wife was a micro-managing control freak. Still, they had two young children.

  His situation was not so different from Adam’s and hers, actually. She’d reconnected with Adam at their high school reunion, when he was still married. His children were very young, and his wife also an angry control freak. Adam left the marriage and married Sylvia after a three-year, long-distance courtship—Adam
in Los Angeles, Sylvia in Oregon. And here was another long-distance relationship culminating in marriage. Nancy and Martin fell in love through letters, neither was married to someone else, nor did they have the heart-wrenching complications of young children. And they were older than she and Adam, which accounted for their desire to move quickly. None of us knows what’s around the corner, nor should we judge anyone else. Sylvia saw this, especially now.

  Adam had many old family friends to meet and greet, and at her request he’d included her at every turn. Guests dwindled after the cake was cut. The festivities were over, but the couple who owned the home wanted Sylvia and Adam to stay longer. So they did. Nancy and Martin, and Lisa and her husband stayed, too. Not what Sylvia had anticipated. She was ready to go home.

  The three couples gathered in the kitchen around an enormous marble-top island, drinking champagne or beer or whatever the well-stocked bar had to offer. Adam became the center of attention, as usual, telling funny stories about his first job after college, selling Hoover vacuum cleaners door-to-door in London, where he’d lived for five years on a houseboat on the Thames. That year the annual appliance expo, which the Queen customarily attended, had a circus theme. Adam, holding a lion cub, was dressed like a ringmaster, in red coat tails and black top hat. As the Queen slowly approached his station, the cub let loose all over Adam’s pants, exuding a most horrific smell. Somehow, Adam anxiously managed to remove his pants and stand behind a washing machine nearby as the Queen passed and greeted him. Adam told a story like no one else, and this one left his audience roaring with laughter.

  Nancy hovered near her brother and began to regale the group with more of Adam’s escapades from when he lived with her family in California in the seventies. Sylvia, who had heard these stories more than once, tried to look amused but she wasn’t. Tired of it all, she decided to sneak out back to have a cigarette. Just as she was backing away toward the door, Martin appeared next to her.

  “Those two sure like to hang on, don’t they?” he asked, sounding defeated. “You look as ready to leave as I am.”

  Sylvia sighed. Now he wants to make small talk with me? What rotten timing. “Yeah, they could go on all night.”

  Martin shifted his feet, then blurted out. “Nancy probably wants to go all night, after the news about Danny.” He looked down. “Thought you should know, so you could tell Adam.”

  “What about Danny?”

  “Car accident. He’s in hospital.”

  “Oh god. When did this happen?”

  “Three days ago. She’s been to see him every day, of course.”

  “How bad is he?” Sylvia asked.

  “He’s in a coma, and the doctors don’t know how it’ll go.”

  Bursts of laughter filled the room. Sylva looked over at Nancy who was in tears from laughing, or maybe not. Sylvia knew all too well how laughter could dissolve into tears of anguish. Still, Nancy had somehow managed to put on a brave face for her day.

  “I’m so sorry. What timing.”

  “Bad news never has a right time,” he said. “Nothing to do but wait and see.”

  “Is she still going to leave with you?”

  Before he could answer, Nancy and Adam joined them. Finally, they were all ready to call it a night. Nancy was hanging on to Adam’s arm like she needed him to hold her up. She was definitely beyond tipsy. Who could blame her?

  They all headed for the front door, and Adam handed Nancy over to her husband. “She’s all yours! Good luck with her tonight,” he joked. Martin helped Nancy into the car, while Lisa and her husband climbed into the backseat. They waved their good-byes and drove off.

  No sooner than she settled into the car, Nancy promptly dozed off.

  “It went off without a hitch, considering,” Lisa said.

  Nancy hiccupped awake. “What? Where are we?”

  “We’re going to Lisa’s,” Martin said. “How’s my new wife?”

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Nancy said.

  They pulled over, and Martin got out to help her, holding her while she heaved. “That’s what you needed, my girl. You’ll feel better now, and we’ll get you into bed straight away.”

  Nancy cried the rest of the way back. “What am I going to do? How can I leave him? It’s all gone up in smoke.”

  “We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” Martin said. “It’s another day, love. I’ll be with you no matter what.”

  30

  END OF SEPTEMBER 2002

  Steve sat in the garage and waited for the new aide to show up with his case manager, Marcie. “Oh yeah, living specialist. Why did they change that?” he asked himself. The aide’s name was Gloria. Sylvia was still here, so he wasn’t as worried about having to be with them by himself. She would explain everything. “What’ll I do when she leaves?” Now he wasn’t so sure that living independently was such a good idea. “What will I eat? I don’t want to go to the store with her. I wish Nancy was still here.” He smoked one cigarette after the other, got up, sat down, wandered out to the driveway then back again. A car drove up. They were here.

  Steve watched Marcie get out of her car then the aide, Gloria. She looked middle-aged, but sort of classy. She was well-dressed, which he always appreciated, with dark, short, wavy hair. She wore make-up and earrings, and she was smiling. She was kind of pretty, not overweight like him, but a little plump and fairly tall. No Playboy Bunny, he snickered.

  She came right over to him. “Hi, you must be Steve. I’m Gloria.”

  Steve stood up and shook her hand, “That’s me. So you’re going to be my aide, I guess.”

  “Yes, Gloria’s going to come here three times a week, Steve,” Marcie said.

  “That much?”

  “For a few months anyway,” Marcie said.

  “We’ll be fine, Steve,” Gloria said. “I can help out wherever you need me to.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you to do. But my sister is still here. She can tell you.”

  “Should we go inside?” Marcie asked.

  “Oh, right. I’ll get Sylvia.”

  They entered the house through the garage, proceeding to the living room. Sylvia greeted them, inviting them to sit down.

  “Do I need to stay?” Steve asked.

  “Yes, Steve. We all need to talk about what Gloria’s going to do, and you need to hear that. And then to check the med tray to be sure it’s filled.”

  “I don’t think I need Gloria to come three times a week,” Steve said.

  “That’s the deal we made.” Sylvia spoke the words carefully.

  “I didn’t agree to it,” Steve protested.

  Marcie tried to explain why it was necessary, but Steve still balked. Gloria promised she wouldn’t get in his way while she was there, assuring him it was only for two hours.

  “Two hours?” Steve complained. “Why so long?”

  Sylvia was exasperated. “Do you want to live here alone?” she asked.

  He rolled his eyes. “You know I do. I don’t need someone here all the time.”

  “It isn’t all the time. This is how it has to be. Take it or leave it. If you leave it, I’ll find someone to live here!”

  “Are you mad at me?” Steve often asked her this when she spoke firmly. He looked sheepish.

  “I’m frustrated,” she responded. Sylvia worried that Steve wouldn’t remember to be home to let Gloria in the house, or that he’d pretend he’d forgotten she was coming. Worse, since Steve was being so difficult, she was afraid Gloria might bail. She acknowledged to herself that Steve’s reluctance with any new situation was the norm. The best approach was to move forward with the next step.

  “What?” asked Steve.

  “Let’s set up the time of day that works best for you,” Sylvia said.

  “I like afternoons. It takes me a long time to wake up.”

  A small window was opening, and Gloria picked up on it. “How does two o’clock sound?” Her tone was matter-of-fact, like it was just the two of them setting
up a prearranged business deal.

  “That’s good for me,” he said.

  She nodded and winked. “Great. And which days would you like?”

  “None,” he laughed at his own joke.

  “Monday, Wednesday, and Friday would be ideal,” Sylvia said. “Definitely before and after the weekend. Things tend to get piled up.”

  “But I work on Friday,” Steve said. “For an hour. From eleven to twelve.”

  “Perfect,” Gloria said. “Because I won’t come until two.”

  “Oh, right,” Steve smiled at her. “That would work.”

  “So, I think we figured it out, Steve. You and I can decide when to get groceries. I’d like to know what you like to eat. Maybe I can prepare a meal for you, too.”

  “I love sloppy joes and chili and Hamburger Helper.”

  “Those are easy for me to make,” she said.

  He hesitated. “But what if I don’t like . . . um . . . ?”

  Sylvia had been here before with Nancy, so she knew what he wanted to ask. “I’ll give Gloria Mom’s recipes for sloppy joes and chili, and a grocery list of your favorite foods.”

  “See? We’re all set,” Gloria said.

  “I guess we are,” Steve said. “Can I leave now?” He looked at Gloria. “I like to go to Pizza Hut a lot.”

  “I love their pizza,” Gloria said.

  “I just drink iced tea there. Sometimes I get pizza, but I don’t like to spend the money.”

  Gloria chuckled. “Maybe I’ll pick one up sometime and bring it here.”

  “Wow. That’d even be better than sloppy joes!”

  “So you’re off to Pizza Hut?” Sylvia asked.

  “Yes. I won’t be long. Probably an hour or two.” Steve stood with a confident, relaxed air. “Nice to meet you, Gloria.”

  “Nice to meet you, Steve. I’ll see you next week.”

  With a self-assured stride, Steve went out the side door.

  Sylvia leaned against the sofa. “Whew. That wasn’t looking promising, but you sure brought him around, Gloria.”

  “It’s understandable that he’d be wary of a stranger. And I’ve done this before, mostly with the elderly. They can be just as resistant.”