Chapter Nine
During the day Gillian had been able to keep the worry at bay, well mostly, but in that fragile land between awake and asleep, worry and his cohorts of fear and resentment attacked with full force. How much money would she lose in this takeover? How would she ever find another job she liked as well as this one? That paid as well? How could she leave her mother? She’d slip right back into dying mode. The questions pummeled her, retreated and attacked again.
She forced herself fully awake so she could deal with the fears with some kind of common sense. The problem was, awake or asleep she had no answers. She got up, peeked in her mother’s room to hear regular breathing, and headed for the kitchen for a cup of chamomile tea, one of her mother’s antidotes for sleeplessness. Something her mother used to say when Gillian was a little girl filtered through the battlefield of her mind.
“When you have nightmares, chase them away by praying. Put Jesus in your mind; nothing can stand against Him. His name is all powerful.”
Cup in hand, she sat at the table and stared out at the moonlit backyard. Put Jesus in her mind. How could she have forgotten that? How many times in those childhood years had she crept into her mother’s room, shivering in terror?
“Come, let’s pray Jesus’ name.” The words, accompanied by a loving arm around her shoulders, had always brought her peace. The nightmares left and she could sleep. Was it the words, the loving arm, or was it as her mother always said, “Jesus’ name is all powerful.”
If it weren’t so chilly out, she’d go outside and sit in the moonlight. Instead she shook her head. Just saying the name of Jesus was too simple. Get a grip, girl, she told herself. You know you will solve all those things as they come up. You always have. You are known as a problem solver. That’s what they pay you the big bucks for. Oops, bad comment. They weren’t going to be paying her any bucks, any longer. Surely there would be a severance package? Or since she’d been there so long would they force her to retire? Retirement? She was not ready to retire yet.
And so the battle fought to storm back in. She inhaled and let it out on a whoosh. God used to answer her prayers. That raised another question. Did He quit answering or did she quit praying? For years she’d kept a journal where she wrote down what she prayed about and then went back and logged in the answers. Had she taken that with her to New York or—or…? There were boxes in the garage labeled with her name, others with Allie’s. She finished her tea and caught a yawn with her hand. Look for the boxes or go back to bed? Opting for bed, she mentally wrote herself a note to search in the morning. Right now, sleep sounded amazingly appealing.
Gillian woke to the ring of a telephone. Bounding out of bed, she trotted down the hall to the kitchen and snatched the receiver off the wall mount, hoping it was Allie.
“Hello?”
“I woke you, didn’t I?” a male voice asked.
She finger-swept her hair back over the top of her head. “Ah, yes.”
“I’m sorry. May I please speak with Mrs. Ormsby?”
“Who is this?”
“I am Nurse Ronald Smith. I have a memo here from Dr. Isaacs that I was to call Mrs. Ormsby on Sunday to remind her that she has an appointment with Dr. Isaacs on Wednesday morning at ten thirty and to see how she is doing.”
“I see. This is her daughter Gillian Ormsby and I’ve been taking care of her the last couple of days.”
“Good, that’s what my notes indicate. May I talk with her?”
“She’s still sleeping. Um, could you call back later? I would really like her to talk with you.”
“Of course. When would be a good time?”
I wish I knew. Gillian stared at the clock on the stove. Eight fifteen? She had really slept in. “Would ten-ish be possible?” At his acquiescence she continued. “Since she has refused to talk with anyone since I arrived, I’m not sure how to make this happen, but I will try.”
“Is she bedridden?”
“Yes, at this point.”
“Is there a phone accessible?”
“Yes.”
“Sometimes elderly people will talk with a medical person, you know how they respect doctors, and usually nurses, too. Let’s hope this works for us.” He paused. “I will review her chart more carefully before I call back. See if we can get some help for you.”
Gillian heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I have to leave tomorrow night and I’m worried about what will happen here.”
“When will you be back?”
“I don’t know. I live in New York City…”
“But don’t you have a sister who lives near here?” He mumbled a bit, obviously reading. “A Mrs. Miller?”
“Yes, but I’ve not talked with her yet this morning.”
“I see.”
No, he didn’t. She didn’t call back all day yesterday. Who knew what today would bring. “Hopefully I can talk with her before you call back. Thank you for calling.” Gillian hung up the phone. Maybe this was the help she needed. But what were the chances she could get things in place by tomorrow night, especially if she couldn’t get in contact with Allie?
First things first. Get dressed and get going.
As soon as she had set the coffee to perking, she made her bed and headed for the shower. Try Allie first before she leaves for church. Gillian dialed and waited, left a message again on the cell phone, then another one on the home phone. What, had they left on a vacation or something?
“You’re still here.” Dorothy stared at her daughter sometime later.
“I told you I would be. Coffee’s ready.” Gillian motioned to the steaming cup on the nightstand. “Let’s get you sitting up.”
Even though Dorothy shook her head, she semi-cooperated with the process. While she’d not said thank you, she did hold the mug herself and inhaled the steam. Gillian chose to mark that as progress.
“A male nurse called from your clinic, checking on you with a reminder of your appointment on Wednesday.”
Her mother stared at the coffee mug and then finally glanced at Gillian. “I can’t go.”
“Why?”
She shook her head once and then kept on, barely moving it from side to side. Her mouth turned down even more, if that were possible.
Gillian waited for her to say more, but when she didn’t, added, “Allie hasn’t returned my calls.”
A shrug.
“Mother, I have to leave tomorrow night and we need some kind of plan in place before that.” When she didn’t respond, Gillian continued. “Now what would you like for breakfast?”
No answer again. “Fine, then I will make oatmeal.”
By the time she returned to the bedroom, her mother had rolled over and gone back to sleep. “You know this might be a lot more comfortable if you moved to the chair and I brought a TV tray in.” She might as well be talking to a statue or the wall. Her mother didn’t respond. Stubborn, bullheaded, willful, the adjectives rolled through her mind. Yesterday she’d been able to be patient. Things weren’t looking so good for today.
Once Dorothy was sitting up again, Gillian willed her mother to look up and ask a question, complain, anything—but she didn’t, only staring down at her hands clasped loosely in her lap.
“Mother, that nurse is going to call back at any time. You need to speak with him.”
The shaking head was getting old.
“Between you and Allie…” Gillian caught herself shaking her own head. That along with her own sighing might make keeping her own sanity rather questionable. Why would she want to ever come back here?
Wanting and needing were two different things. She could hear the phone ringing in the kitchen. She knelt down and retrieved the old-fashioned desk phone from under the bed, answering it on her way back up. “Yes, thank you, she’s right here.” She sat the phone on the bed and handed her mother the receiver. “It’s the nurse.”
Dorothy lifted the receiver to her ear. “Yes.”
Gillian wished the other phone was portable so she co
uld listen in. But at least her mother was taking the call.
“No.”
No what? Gillian headed for the kitchen, guilt halting her hand before she picked up the receiver. Should she listen in? Was that even legal? “Oh, my word!” After all, privacy laws were a big deal nowadays. She huffed a sigh and marched back down the hallway to see her mother hanging up the phone.
“So, what did he say?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing! Mother I know he wanted to talk with you.” A surge of pure anger clamped her jaw. She closed her eyes and mentally counted to ten, then fifteen. Mouth open, she inhaled, filling her lungs so she could push it all out, and hopefully the anger with it. It didn’t work, the anger boiled. Without a word she left the room so that she wouldn’t unload what she was thinking onto her mother. She who was noted for calm and collected bargaining skills came so close to losing her temper, it frightened her. Where were all those carefully honed skills when she needed them? Why could she deal with high-powered executives but be brought to her knees by a stubborn old lady who only wanted to die?
You could just let her go her own way, a mocking voice insisted.
“This is my mother we are talking about here!” She realized she spoke aloud to a voice that was inside her head.
The ringing phone caught her attention again. “Hello.” Where had her soothing phone voice departed to?
“Ah, Ms. Ormsby?”
“Yes.” Recognizing the nurse’s voice, relief poured through her like a cooling stream. “I’m glad you called back.”
“You sound a bit—ah, put out?”
“That’s putting it mildly at the moment.”
“I think I can understand why. I have a note here that I can talk with either of Mrs. Ormsby’s daughters.”
“Good. When I asked her what you’d said, she replied, ‘nothing.’”
A chuckle in her ear helped lower her shoulder blades. She wasn’t in this alone after all.
“Well, that’s not exactly true. I reminded her of her appointment, like I said I would. And I asked if she would like to discuss having a home health aide come by when you leave, along with mentioning that if she couldn’t make it into the office, we’d have a home health nurse come by and take her vitals, assess the situation.”
“And she said?”
“‘No,’ ‘no,’ and hung up.”
Gillian rolled her eyes, a cobweb up by the ceiling catching her attention. “Well, I can see some improvement. She is eating; usually I have to feed her but not always and not much. I can’t get many fluids into her, but she makes it back and forth to the bathroom on her own. She’s not running a fever, but she sleeps most of the time.”
“Really sleeping or dozing? Laying with her eyes closed and…”
“I have to put a hand on her shoulder and shake her to wake her up.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“I’m not really sure. Allie called me early this past week. That was the first I knew about Mother.” If it sounded like they didn’t communicate well, that was only because it was so. How long since she had called and talked with her mother? “Allie said something along the line of three weeks since Mother took to her bed.”
“I see. Were you able to make contact with your sister?”
“Not yet.” Why did a simple question like that make her feel like a failure?
“I’ve been writing notes for Dr. Isaacs to read in the morning. I’m sure he will call and talk with you tomorrow. For now I suggest you keep on with what you are doing.”
They said their good-byes and hung up, leaving Gillian more frustrated on one hand and grateful for an unseen nurse, who took the time to listen and encourage, on the other.
Picking up her to-do list, she scanned down to see what she could accomplish today. SPEAK WITH ALLIE in capital letters headed the list. This time she dialed the home number first.
When someone picked up the phone, she swallowed a sharp retort. At the hello, Gillian smiled. “Well, hello, Sherrilyn, how are you? This is your Auntie Gillian.”
“I know, I’d recognize your voice anywhere. Are you coming out here to see us?”
Get right to the point there. “I’m not sure how we are going to work that out. How’d you do yesterday?”
“We won and I scored the final point.”
They talked soccer for a minute before Gillian said, “Can I talk with your mother?”
“She’s not here right now. I think she’s on her way to see you and Grandma.”
“Oh, good. Any idea when she left?”
“Sorry, not really. You could try her cell, but you know she forgets to turn it on half the time.”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks, sweety. Talk with you soon.” Gillian hung up the phone. Seemed like most of what she was doing today was talking on the telephone, to everyone but the person she needed to speak to most.
Now to think through all she needed to say to Allie, not just what she wanted to say. As usual, she took out paper and pen and started a list. The sound of a key in the front door told her the scrimmage was about to begin.
Chapter Ten
Gillian?”
“In the kitchen. I’m pouring iced tea or would you rather have coffee?” Keep it smooth and easy for a while at least.
“Iced tea is fine.” Allie set her bag on the chair beside the buffet on the north wall. A large ficus tree in the corner wore many yellow leaves since it had not been watered for a while. “Something smells good.”
“I dug out a candle from the gift closet and have it burning.”
“But Mother doesn’t like candles. Says they are too dangerous.”
“Mother isn’t out here, and even though I aired the house out yesterday, it still smells musty.” Gillian handed a full glass to her sister.
“Is she awake?”
“She was because I woke her and fed her breakfast.”
“You got her to eat?”
“No, I fed her. Although late yesterday, she did eat some on her own when I brought it to her. She wasn’t happy about getting bathed and the bedding changed, but we got it done.”
Allie stared at her like she was a magician or something. She shook her head. “I am amazed.”
“Yes, well…” Gillian sipped her drink.
“I was going to call you this morning but we were running late for church.”
What about all the calls yesterday? Keep it calm, cool. “We have some decisions that have to be made and implemented before I leave tomorrow night, you know.”
Allie cupped her hands around the glass sitting in front of her. “I’ve done the best I can.”
“Allie, this isn’t about you. This is about our mother, who can no longer stay alone or she really will die.”
“Well, I can’t stay here full time. I have responsibilities, too, you know.”
Tell her about your job or lack thereof. Why? She never asks about me. That thought was a new one. It was true. She asked the questions regarding Allie’s life when she called, but the questions weren’t reciprocal. Had it been the same with her conversations with Mother? She’d have to think on that, but she had a feeling it was pretty much the same.
“I think right now we need to put aside any confrontations and see what we can do here.” Because if I start in on you, you truly will feel like you’re a failure.
“Yeah, but…” Allie glanced up.
Gillian fortified herself with more iced tea. Yeah, but…she’d forgotten how much she disliked yeah-but people. We will not step back into our past ways of talking, we will not. I will not.
“A nurse called from the clinic this morning to talk to Mother. He spoke with me first and called back when she was awake.”
“How did that go?”
“Succinct. ‘No, no,’ bang.”
“But how did you get her to talk?”
“Woke her and handed her the phone. Did you know the ringer is turned off on the phone in the bedroom and she is keeping it under the bed?�
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Allie nodded.
“So how can you talk with her every day?” Gillian watched her sister go into a defensive mode, shoulders curved in, head down. Bad Gillian, bad to attack. She leaned forward. “Sorry, Allie. That just slipped out.” She patted her sister’s hand. Change of topic.
“He called me back and told me what he’d said. He took notes and will give them to Dr. Isaacs in the morning. I think two things need to be first on the list. Who’s going to stay here and how will Mother get to her doctor’s appointment? Oh, the nurse said he could send a home health aide by to help and a home health nurse, if we absolutely can’t get her to the doctor’s on Wednesday.”
“They better be tough. Mother’s not going to like this.”
“Maybe not. You know how charming she can be when she wants.” With others, that is, not necessarily with her daughters. “We can also rent a wheelchair if need be, to get her into the office.”
“True.” Allie drew lines in the condensation on the glass. She looked up. “But how will I make her go?”
“Tell her if she doesn’t cooperate, she’ll end up in a nursing home.” Gillian glanced at her watch. “You want some lunch? We have plenty of leftovers. Mexican.”
Allie shook her head. “I need to get back.”
“Get back? You just got here.” Well, Gillian, how you manage employees is sure different from managing your sister. Allie had straightened her spine, and a glint of defiance sparked from her eyes.
“Jefferson and I would like you to come for dinner. He’s doing barbecue. This way you can see the kids, too.”
“Just drive off and leave Mother for a couple of hours?”
“Do you have any other suggestions?”
“Yes, we sit here and make some decisions, a plan so I know what I need to do tomorrow to implement it.”
“Well, if you know so much, you just go ahead and do what needs to be done.”
“Allie, please. Let’s put the animosity on hold. We have to work together on this.”
On Hummingbird Wings Page 8