Daniel nodded in agreement, but he suspected it wasn’t that way at all.
Chapter 63
Daniel pulled a few weeds from Ellie’s little flowerbed while Ellie halfheartedly raked a few midsummer twigs and leaves from the grass. “You’ll give yourself a stroke, in this heat,” he said, and took the rake from her.
Ellie didn’t resist much. She went and sat on the porch with Gringo. “Is that what causes a stroke? Working in the sun? How does that happen?”
But Daniel didn’t know. He wondered the same thing. “I’m sure it doesn’t help any,” he said. “No reason to risk it, is there, when you have me here to help?”
“A cousin of mine had one, a ways back. A ‘mini’ stroke, they called it. This was, oh… had to be ten years ago. She wasn’t doing anything at all strenuous. Just sitting at the kitchen table, she said. Then she couldn’t see out of her left eye, and her leg went numb. She wasn’t that old, either. In her fifties.”
“That’s different from a normal stroke, I think.” He deftly pulled the leaves together into a pile. “A real stroke.”
“I know it. But it just seemed unfair. There she was, shelling peas. You think you have time, you see, and then the problems start in on you, and everything comes at once. Before you know it, you don’t shell peas anymore because you don’t cook anymore, and then you don’t really do anything anymore and you’re just… well you’re just not the same.”
“Did she die?”
She shook her head. “No. Still, she wasn’t the same.”
Daniel stuffed the small pile of leaves into a bag. “I worry about my boss,” he said. “He’s having some trouble adjusting to his wife being gone. He’s not the same either. I don’t think he had a stroke, at least. But it’s just hard for him. His son isn’t being very helpful about it, wants to put him in a home. That’s just a—” He looked up sharply, snapping his mouth shut. His next words were about to be death sentence. “Shame, is all. Just a shame.”
Ellie made a face. “I know you too well, Strawberry. You can’t hide what you’re thinking. But maybe it’s better for him.”
Daniel bobbed his head. Of course, of course. Maybe it was. Maybe, but he didn’t think so.
On the porch, Gringo lay dreaming; his feet kicked rapidly several times as if in pursuit of some prey.
Chapter 64
Things with Bud went downhill rapidly, like a coin spinning into one of those donation vortexes. A week after the fight with Billy, Bud climbed on a chair to sweep away some cobwebs. He overbalanced, fell against the wall, and sprained his wrist. He got over it, but slowly. Then he fell again, this time during the short walk to his mailbox, and pulled a muscle in his back. He tried to hide it, but of course people noticed. Billy noticed, certainly. Bud made light of it, and he tried to pass it off as just a little thing. Told jokes. That first step, it’s a lulu. But the wrist had taken a lot out of him and the back took more. He was stiff for weeks. He began walking timidly like an old man does, looking at every bit of floor like it might be a trap.
It might as well have been: he fell again in the middle of September – lost his balance getting out of the shower. This time, he broke his ankle. He swore his footing was fine, that he had both feet on the ground and then the world just twitched and threw him down. He said he thought it was an earthquake. He said anyone could break an ankle getting out of the shower. He said he was still fine on his own. He said he was still just by-Christ fine on his own.
That’s what he said. But when he got out of the hospital, he signed the papers and let Billy move him into one of the places from the pamphlets. Turned out there hadn’t been very many to choose from. There were only four assisted living facilities in the entire city, and only a couple of those looked at all inviting.
Billy showed pamphlets around to the staff, explaining how nice it all was. They have shuffleboard and a hot tub in the rec room, he told them. Dad’s room will have a view. It was best this way, he said. Bud wouldn’t be all alone next time he fell. As though it was preordained that he would fall. As though the isolation was certain. Billy said that Bud could have been on the floor for days before anyone found him. If he fell again, he might not be able to drag himself to the phone. Better this way, with helpers to check in. People around, that was key. He said it like that: it’s key that Dad have people around. Big-shot decision maker. Daniel wanted to point out that people could have been hired to check on Bud at his house; he wanted to say that Billy could have been around to check on his father himself. But he didn’t. Bud moved into The Pines early in October.
Daniel promised to visit often – but he didn’t do that, either.
Chapter 65
“Haven’t seen Bud around lately. Heard he took a spill a while back.”
Daniel refilled the pretzel bowl. “He did. Couple of them. He’s fine.” He wondered how much Clive had heard.
“I guess it could be worse, then. My aunt had a fall last year and broke herself a hip. She had to get someone in to care for her a while. They moved her to a place a few months ago.”
A place. Had a fall, took a spill, moved to a place. “Yep. Bud’s in a place now,” he said, looking at Clive to see his reaction.
“Ah, hell,” Clive said, tapping the bar for a refill on his drink. “Bet he hates it. I know my aunt hates it. What place?”
“Whispering Pine something I think. They just called it The Pines.”
Clive chuckled. “Why is it always pines? My aunt’s in Kansas, but she’s got pines too. Hers is Pine Hills.” He sipped his whiskey quietly. “You been to visit?”
He hadn’t, yet. “I will.” He dreaded it, but Margie had been a few days ago, and she said it wasn’t too bad. “Margie told us it was like an apartment. I had worried it would be… well. You know how some of those places are.”
“Yep. My aunt’s is that way, just white tiles and white shoes everywhere. All waiting to die. But she’s ninety, you know. She sleeps most of the time, anyway. But there are lots better places. Sounds like Bud got a nice one – like an apartment, you say?”
“Assisted living. They just keep an eye on him. Margie said there’s call buttons all over the place, in case he needs someone. But man… it’s Bud. You know?”
Clive threw his drink back and ordered another. “Here’s to Bud. May he take no more falls.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “You notice how old people never just fall down? They always take a fall. Only young people fall down.”
Daniel thought about it. It was true. He wondered why.
Clive held up his drink and looked into it. “If you fall down, you get up, see. When you take a fall, you keep it forever.”
Chapter 66
Daniel sipped coffee, thinking about getting Ellie’s mail and doing a little bit of yard work. He might climb up on her roof and get her swamp cooler shut off. With his mind on that, he stepped outside. Ellie was at the edge of her lawn, hands on her hips, looking down at something. He couldn’t see Gringo.
He went out and shouted a hello. Ellie turned toward him and then he was able to see what she had been looking down at. The old For Sale sign had been replaced by a new one. Open Spaces Realty. Frank Florentine, Agent.
Daniel and Ellie stood for a moment regarding the sign.
“Frank Florentine. Sounds like a porn star name,” Ellie said with a snort. “My brother’s choice. I guess he got sick of waiting.”
“Ah.” Daniel stuck his hands in his pockets and bobbed his head, looking sideways at Ellie. “Well. Maybe you’ll get showings now, at least.”
“Not looking forward to it. Any of it. But it has to happen, I know.” She looked up at him then turned a little and gestured with her chin. “Here comes Greg, being nosy.”
Greg and Mary approached, holding small wrapped packages. Mary hugged Daniel with one arm. “Hello! What a lovely day it is. Lovely! Want a cookie?” She held up her package. Daniel and Ellie both shook their heads.
“Dan
ish wedding cookies,” Greg said. “I got some too. And oatmeal. Bake sale at the church.”
“Really fun,” Mary said. “They had a juggler and some ladies selling jam. That’s such a cute church. The one on the corner. Have you been there?”
Ellie took a step closer to Daniel. “It was my church, once,” she mumbled. He smiled at her. Maybe she’d like to go to the bake sale. Before he could ask, Greg had stepped past him and was looking at the sign.
“So they went with a realtor, finally. That’s good. Open Spaces.” Greg furrowed his brow and looked at Mary. “Was that the one your friend used?”
“Sarah? I think so.” Mary stepped up and looked at the sign. “That was them, I think. She was pretty happy with the lady she had, I know.”
“About time they got this listed with an agent. I kept saying so. It’s not good to let a house go empty.”
Ellie muttered something, but Daniel couldn’t hear her. She looked upset. He changed the subject. “Wedding cookies. Those are the ones with the powdered sugar, right?”
“Yes!” Mary said with enthusiasm. “I’ve always loved those. My aunt used to make them. You sure you don’t want one?” She held the package up again. “There’s plenty. I don’t need all of these. Fattening as all get-out, they are.”
“My grandmother made those once or twice I think,” Ellie said. “I liked her chocolate chip better. And her snickerdoodles.”
Daniel thought about it. He couldn’t remember ever having eaten a Danish wedding cookie. “My grandmother used to make brownies. Cookies, too, of course. Chocolate chip,” he added, looking sideways at Ellie with a grin. “I’d put my gran’s chocolate chips up against yours any day.”
She laughed lightly and shook her head. “I don’t know. They were awful good.”
“It’s pretty hard to screw up a chocolate chip cookie,” Greg said. “Now, oatmeal. That’s different. Takes some effort to make a good oatmeal.”
Daniel agreed with him and they talked a bit about oatmeal cookies. Mary liked hers with raisins. Greg did not like raisins. Ellie agreed on that score. Daniel said he didn’t mind them either way. Gringo walked up next to him and nosed his leg, and he stroked the dog’s ear without thinking about it. He was really glad to see Ellie making some effort. Out of the house, interacting with others. It was good for her. Maybe they could walk down to the little church. He asked how far a walk it was.
“Oh, not far. Block and a half, two blocks maybe?” Greg said, looking at Mary. She nodded.
Ellie didn’t seem very interested, but after Greg and Mary went back across the street, Daniel asked her again. “I don’t want to go alone. We could get some cookies, and eat them on the porch. With milk.”
Ellie gave him a look. “I’m out of milk.” But she took a few steps down the street and he joined her, and then they were walking together.
“I used to walk this all the time. We did, Herb and I.”
“It was your church?”
“Well.” She rubbed her arms and made a face. “It’s a…what-do-you-call-it. Non-denominational. So, it’s anyone’s church really. But yes, we used to go. Once in a while.” She squinted up at him. “I was raised Lutheran. Did you ever have a church you went to?”
Daniel shrugged. “Not really. I went sometimes when I was a kid. Different ones. You know, for weddings and funerals.”
“The church we went to before we lived here was a huge place. Inside, they had these long, long candlesticks, with the candles up so high I couldn’t figure out how they got them lit. Then one day we were there during the week, dropping off some stuff, and there were women up there dusting. Just on a regular old ladder like one anybody uses. Nothing at all spiritual.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why I expected them to have some special way of getting up there. Like they’d float or something.”
“Was it at least a wooden ladder?”
“No! Aluminum. That made it worse, you’re right. A wooden ladder would have been better. Classier.”
The small church came into view. Balloons were tied to the sign out front. Welcome to the First Community Church it said at the top, and under that: Do the Kindest Thing in the Kindest Way. A bright pink poster board sign was taped to a box underneath the sign: Carnival Fundraiser Sunday!
There were small tables all around the little courtyard in front of the church, with women sitting on chairs and chatting. Baked goods everywhere. He spotted the Danish wedding cookies right away. Ellie followed him very closely as they made their way around the tables, looking, her arm linked with his. Her grip got tighter as he approached one of the tables.
He looked down at her. “Let’s get some cookies.”
She nodded and allowed him to lead her to the cookies, but she clung like a barnacle and looked at the ground the whole time. He bought a small sack of cookies that looked promising, and made his way to another table. She hung on him like a weight.
“Ellie.” He shook his arm lightly. “Relax.” But this was the first time he’d ever seen her away from the house at all, and he didn’t really mind holding her up if it helped her. She needed to get used to people again, especially if she was going to sell her house and move to a new place where he wouldn’t be around to help her.
They made their way around the tables, and the church ladies smiled and smiled. “Hello, dear,” one said. “Cookies for the cause? Cupcakes? Brownies?” In front of her table was a drawing of Jesus with an apron around his middle and oven mitt on his left hand. In the right hand, he carried a cross.
“Cupcakes for Jesus,” Ellie whispered to Daniel, pointing at the sign. Daniel covered his mouth and choked back a laugh. The woman ignored this and went on.
“All proceeds benefit the youth center,” she said in a bored way, looking now past Daniel and Ellie at the new arrivals behind them. “Hello, dear. Cookies for the cause, all for the cause. Brownies, Cupcakes. All for the youth center. Praise Jesus.”
They looked for snickerdoodles but didn’t see any. At the other end of the courtyard they found a lemonade stand. Daniel bought one. Ellie said she wasn’t thirsty. The church door was open, but they didn’t go inside. They left, Daniel carrying two bags of cookies and the lemonade, and Ellie released his arm once they got to the street.
“That wasn’t so bad,” he said. “You should get out more. It’s good for you. You could go for a walk every day, like this. We could. While the weather is nice.”
She shrugged. “Maybe.” They walked back to her house in silence. Gringo was waiting for them on her porch, framed artistically by the screen door.
“Dog noir,” Daniel said. Ellie frowned, and brushed past the dog quickly, without even a glance down.
Like she didn’t even see him. He followed her inside and set the cookies on the counter. He chewed his lip and thought about it, wondering again what reason she had for keeping Gringo around.
She ran her fingers through her hair lightly and moved toward her bedroom. “I’m worn out. I think I’ll lie down for a while.”
The walk had been stressful for her, he was sure. Even a short walk like that was a lot of exercise when you weren’t used to it, and the emotional aspect was probably even worse. But it was good that she’d gone. He hoped he could get her out for another walk again soon. In the next week or so, before the weather got too cool. “Maybe next time we can take the dog with us.”
She paused at the door of the bedroom. “I don’t like dogs much.” She went into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.
Daniel opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Chapter 67
Margie dragged a box of fall decorations into the bar, used orange crepe-paper streamers trailing behind like a tail.
“Where’s Little Bit?”
Daniel checked the clock. “Late, as usual.” Margie had taken to calling the girl Little Bit and some of the guys had, too. Toni didn’t seem to mind it, though. She seemed to think it was a compliment.
; Hector clattered in with the ladder. “Where? That side?” He followed Margie’s finger and set the ladder up. Margie stood under him and passed up streamers with tape. At the bar, the men sipped drinks and watched the decorators work.
Clive made a loud entrance. “Get to work, you two!” he shouted, then took his usual seat. “Dan! Whiskey, neat, please. It’s a good day. Good day.”
Daniel poured the drink and passed up across. “There you go, sir.”
“Keep ready. I’ll be after another in a minute.” Clive shot his drink down like it was water and sent the glass back across the bar. “Told you so,” he said. He turned in his seat to look up at Hector balancing on the ladder and Margie underneath him. “You gonna catch him when he falls on you, Margie?”
She made a face at him. “Drink your drink, Clive.”
He picked up his glass and laughed. “Guess I better do that, then. Following orders, you know.” The second drink went down almost as fast as the first had. Clive licked his lips and looked at Daniel, who stood with the bottle, waiting for the order. Not a lot of men would take three shots of whiskey down in under three minutes, but Clive did it all the time.
“You know what to do, Danny.” Clive put two fingers on the glass and slid it towards Daniel. “There’s a fire in my belly. Let’s put ’er out.”
Daniel gave a nod and poured the drink. Looked like this was going to be a ripper. Clive was a heavy drinker but he always handled himself well. He’d ordered eight shots in an hour once, and had still seemed mostly sober.
Clive sipped the third drink a little more slowly, and pulled a menu over. Daniel ran his order to the kitchen, and when he got back out, Clive’s drink was empty. He nodded at Daniel, who poured him another.
“Tell me about your life, Dan. What’s going on, how’s it going here? Bud ever come in anymore? You been to see him?” He reached for a napkin and shredded thin strips off the edges.
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