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A Christmas Star

Page 2

by Judith Keim


  Noelle allowed herself to be hurried along.

  Standing in front of Silas’s great-grandmother’s house, Noelle studied the old woman.

  Even from a small distance, she seemed bowed in spirit and fragile as she sat in her wheelchair staring out at them. Others might not recognize these signs, but from her years of experience with the elderly, Noelle was used to seeing this. On a whim, she turned to Silas.

  “Let’s go say hello to your grandmother.”

  “She doesn’t talk much,” Silas said with a note of sadness in his voice.

  Noelle smiled. “That won’t matter. I bet she’s curious about me and might like a visitor.”

  As they walked toward the front porch, a figure emerged from the house. Noelle observed the big-boned, broad chested woman and guessed that this was the person Silas called Mrs. Wicked. Her hair was short and dyed a deep black. That and her long, sharp nose made Silas’s nickname for her intriguing.

  “There she is,” whispered Silas.

  Pretending not to have heard, Noelle lifted a hand in greeting. “Hello!”

  The woman did not return Noelle’s greeting and, instead, went inside.

  Noelle climbed onto the porch, walked up to Silas’s great-grandmother, and held out a hand. “I’m Noelle North, a new friend of Silas’s. I thought I’d come say hello to you.”

  From among the wrinkles and the downcast look on her face, her blue eyes lit and a smile emerged. “I’m Althea. Althea Bellingham.” Noelle could see how beautiful the woman must have been and wondered what kind of injuries kept Althea in a wheelchair when there seemed so much life to her.

  “She’s Mrs. Bellingham to you,” said the woman emerging from the house to stand behind Althea. Dressed in dark slacks and a white shirt, she scowled at Silas and turned her disapproval on Noelle.

  “And you are?” Noelle asked.

  “Betty Wickstrom,” the woman said with a challenging expression.

  Noelle held back a chuckle. Mrs. Wicked seemed such an appropriate shortened version of the name. She turned to Althea. “Maybe someday Silas and I can get you out in the sun for a bit. He and Duke play a mean game of catch.”

  Althea nodded and then glanced at Betty.

  “She’s doing very well right where she is. And now it’s time for her medicine. So say goodbye to her.”

  Althea’s expression changed to one of defeat.

  “Silas, time for you to come into the house,” said Betty.

  “No! I don’t want to go inside. I want to stay with Noelle.”

  Noelle smiled at both women. “I’m happy to stay with him for a while longer. Will that be okay?”

  “No!” said Betty.

  As Althea reached up to touch Betty’s arm, her long-sleeved shirt revealed a bruise on her forearm. “Yes.”

  “What happened to your arm?” Noelle asked as calmly as she could while suspicion rolled through her in a wave of unease.

  Althea glanced at Betty.

  “She’s fine, just a little clumsy, that’s all,” said Betty, waving away Noelle’s concern.

  “You hit Nana there,” said Silas, moving closer to Noelle. “I saw you.”

  “Why, you little ... You know that didn’t happen. That’s where I helped her up from another fall.”

  Silas clasped Noelle’s hand and shook his head. “Adults aren’t supposed to lie.”

  Noelle knelt down in front of Althea’s wheelchair and spoke softly. “Althea, you can trust me. I’m a registered nurse who helps the elderly where I live in New England. Are you being hurt?”

  Althea looked at Betty, turned back to Noelle, and nodded. Then she lifted her shirt. Bruises were everywhere.

  Noelle scrambled to her feet and faced Betty, her hands fisted. The burning desire to attack the awful woman was almost overwhelming. Through gritted teeth, Noelle said, “I would suggest you pack up your things and leave now, Betty, or I’m calling the authorities.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!” snarled Betty.

  “I would, I can, and I will,” said Noelle, flexing her fists. The abuse of the elderly wasn’t new, but each time she saw an example, it made her sick to her stomach.

  Noelle turned to Silas. “You stay here with your great-grandmother. I’m going inside to make sure Mrs. Wickstrom leaves.”

  Betty placed her hands on her hips and glared at Noelle. “You can’t make me leave. You didn’t hire me.”

  “If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police to have you removed. I’m not bluffing. I’ve handled cases like this before,” Noelle said, well aware this really wasn’t her business. But she wouldn’t, she couldn’t let the abuse continue. The sight of those bruises felt like a punch to her gut.

  “You have no proof that I did anything wrong,” countered Betty.

  Noelle’s smile was cold. “Oh, but I do. I have two very credible witnesses and, if necessary, I’ll take photographs to show the authorities. Now, get your things, and I’ll escort you to your car.”

  Noelle followed Betty inside and to a bedroom off the kitchen in the back of the house. She watched carefully as Betty hastily threw her things into a small suitcase. When she’d zipped her suitcase closed, she turned to Noelle.

  “What are you going to do about it now?”

  Noelle drew a deep breath. “I’m taking your keys to the house and escorting you to your car.”

  “And then what?” sneered Betty. “Althea isn’t an easy woman to deal with. Too stubborn, too demanding for her own good.”

  “Come on, let’s go.”

  Noelle escorted Betty outside, wrote down the license number, and stood by as Betty threw her suitcase into the back of a small, blue sedan and climbed behind the wheel. After starting the engine, Betty gave her a middle-finger wave, and took off with a roar.

  Alone, Noelle stood in the driveway, breathing in and out in a calming pattern to slow her heartbeat. A sense of dismay made her grow cold. What in the hell had she done? She didn’t know Althea Bellingham. And now she was in charge of her until she spoke to her family and they could find other help for her.

  She went inside the house and out to the seaside porch. Silas was sitting next to the wheelchair, holding his great-grandmother’s hand. Althea was asleep in the chair, safely secured. At the sweet sight of them, tears sprang to Noelle’s eyes.

  “Hello,” she said softly to Silas. “Mrs. Wicked is gone. Come with me. I need your help.”

  Silas followed her into the kitchen.

  “Who do I need to call? Where are your parents?” Noelle asked.

  Silas gave her a look that was so sad, Noelle’s heart clenched. “My dad is in New York. He’ll be back at the end of the week.”

  “Do you have a phone number for him?”

  Silas smiled and pointed to a printed list by the kitchen phone. “It’s the one on the top. His name is Jake.”

  Noelle studied the mounted paper. Jake Bellingham’s phone number was listed at the top. She picked up the phone and dialed the number.

  “The Bellingham Hotel New York. How may I help you today?” came a practiced, professional-sounding voice.

  Noelle’s heart pounded with dismay. Bellingham Hotel? The family owned hotels? “May I please speak to Jake Bellingham?”

  “I’ll put you through to his office.”

  After a minute, a feminine voice came on the line. “Mr. Bellingham’s office. How may I help you?”

  “Please, it’s important I speak to him. I’m a visiting neighbor calling from his grandmother’s house in Florida about a situation in her home.” Noelle’s pulse sprinted at the idea of telling him what she’d done.

  “Please hold, and I’ll see if he can take the call,” his secretary said.

  A moment later, Noelle heard a deep voice say, “Jake Bellingham.”

  Noelle swallowed hard. “Mr. Bellingham, you don’t know me, but I’m a new friend of Silas’s. My name is Noelle North, I’m a registered nurse visiting from Massachusetts, and though I’m not licensed in Flo
rida, I’m calling to tell you that I just escorted your grandmother’s caretaker out of the house for abusing her. I specialize in care for the elderly and recognize abuse when I see it. I did not call the police. I need to know what you want me to do next.”

  “Let me get this straight. You don’t know me, my grandmother, or the woman who was taking care of her. Yet you had the balls to throw her out of the house? Is that it?”

  “Yes,” said Noelle with a confidence she didn’t feel. “That’s about it. As I said, I am a registered nurse, so I’ve seen too many cases of abuse like this before. Your grandmother has bruises on her arms and torso that are very telling.”

  “Abuse? Really? Put Silas on the phone,” growled his father.

  Noelle handed Silas the phone. “Your father wants to speak to you.”

  Silas’s eyes grew round. He took the phone and listened, then he spoke in a series of staccato sentences. “Yes! I told you Mrs. Wicked was mean! Yes, I like her! Her name is Noelle and she’s here on vacation. Nana showed Noelle her bruises. That’s why.”

  After a pause, Silas said, “Love you too, Dad,” and handed the phone back to Noelle.

  “I had no idea this was happening to my grandmother,” said Jake. “I have you to thank for uncovering the situation. I’ve been mostly away for the last several weeks, and Nana never mentioned any problems with Mrs. Wickstrom. Nor did I notice anything like that. I’m sorry, but it isn’t possible for me to make it home for another few days due to some international legal problems. Is there any way you can stay with my grandmother and Silas until I can send someone else to take over for you? In the meantime, who can I call for references on you?”

  “You can speak to anyone at the New Life Assisted-Living Community outside of Boston. I handle the health program there. I’m in Florida for a vacation, and as I mentioned earlier, I’m not licensed to practice in Florida, and won’t be able to stay with your family for any length of time, and then only as a caretaker, not a nurse.”

  “Until just this weekend, I promise,” said Silas’s father. “And if I can find a better service than the one I used for Mrs. Wickstrom, it could be for only a few hours. Don’t worry, I’ll pay you well.”

  Noelle bristled. “You may be used to paying people to do your bidding, but it’s not necessary for me. I’ve done this because I care about your grandmother’s health and well-being. Not to get your money.”

  “Whoa! I didn’t mean ... Forget it! I’ll be in touch. I appreciate your help.”

  Noelle hung up the phone, still steaming from the notion that she and her work were for sale when she was just voluntarily helping to resolve a very tough situation.

  “You’re going to stay with me now?” Silas asked, giving her a wide smile. “Maybe for a long time.”

  “Just until your father can find a replacement,” Noelle said, not wanting to get Silas’s hopes up for something that wasn’t going to happen. She already knew she didn’t like Jake Bellingham.

  CHAPTER TWO

  While Althea continued to nap on the porch, Noelle went through the house to get acquainted with the layout. She needed to determine how best to handle things. Betty’s room behind the kitchen was one of two bedrooms on the first floor with a private bath. Another, larger bedroom faced the Gulf beachfront. An office next to that bedroom completed a separate wing from the main living, dining, and kitchen areas. Upstairs, she discovered four additional bedrooms. The master held a private bathroom, as did one other. The remaining two bedrooms shared a Jack-and-Jill bathroom between them. In one, Legos, Star Wars posters, and other items clearly showed it was Silas’s room. As she studied the layout and thought of Althea, an idea came to her. She decided to go ahead with her plan before Jake returned and quickly made a phone call. If she was already in a little trouble with Mr. Jake Bellingham, why not make it big trouble?

  An hour later, she and Silas stood by while movers rearranged furniture. No longer would Althea be stuck upstairs, she’d be comfortably settled in the room overlooking the beach and the soothing waves. No more would she be removed from her family; she’d be a big part of it. Research and experience showed that participating in family activities kept patients involved, healthier, and happier.

  She interviewed Althea, who told her the injury to her hip was from a fall. No one had overseen a course of proper rehabilitation. Instead, Betty had stuck Althea in a wheelchair where Betty could control her. Noelle also suspected Althea had been given too much medication.

  In her wheelchair, Althea watched with interest as her bedroom furniture was brought down to the first-floor bedroom.

  “Does this look all right?” Noelle asked her.

  A smile creased her face. “Bureau there.” Althea pointed to a different wall.

  Without hesitation, Noelle directed the movers to change the layout of the room. She’d learned how important it was for each patient to have their space arranged to their liking.

  By the time the bedroom was set up, the smile on Althea’s face was permanent. Tears glistened in her eyes.

  “Thank you,” Althea said in a voice gravelly with disuse.

  Noelle returned her smile. “I’ll see that whoever replaces Betty will be well trained and kind. With any luck, we’ll get you out of that wheelchair. I’m not promising you’re going to run in any road race, but, hopefully, you won’t be as confined as you are. Now, let’s take a look outside.”

  “I’ll push Nana’s chair,” said Silas proudly. “Mrs. Wicked wouldn’t let me, but I can do it, Noelle.”

  “Of course, you can,” Noelle said. Interaction with children was another plus for an elderly person. The same with animals. “Where’s Duke?”

  “Outside,” said Silas. “Mrs. Wicked wouldn’t let him inside.”

  “Well, as long as he’s well mannered, I see nothing wrong with his being inside.” Noelle crossed her fingers, hoping she wasn’t going too far with all the changes to the household. But after seeing the bruises on Althea’s body, there was no turning back. She’d even oversee hiring someone to take Betty’s place. For free, Jake Bellingham!

  Noelle left Althea and Silas sitting together in Althea’s new bedroom and checked the upstairs master bedroom to make sure everything was tidy. The furniture in both rooms was of high quality and tasteful design, so the exchange looked fine. In fact, she liked the upstairs room even better with lighter furniture.

  Noelle’s stomach growled. She patted it, and realized it was way past lunchtime. A bit worried, she hurried downstairs. She might be a very capable nurse, but she wasn’t a great cook. After looking through the cupboards and the refrigerator, she went to Althea’s room.

  “Silas, what would you like for lunch? A peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

  “Really? I can have one? Mrs. Wicked said peanut butter wasn’t good for anyone.”

  Noelle couldn’t hold back a frown. “Althea? Is it okay if Silas has a peanut butter sandwich? No allergies to peanuts?”

  “No, I don’t have any allergies to peanuts,” said Silas. “I know all about it. A boy in my class at school is allergic. We can’t have any treats because of it.”

  “Okay then. You’ll have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Althea, what can I get for you? Do chicken noodle soup and saltines sound tasty?”

  Althea’s eyes lit with pleasure. “Nice.”

  Silas smiled at Noelle. “Nana’s talking better now.”

  “She has a voice now,” said Noelle, wondering why no one had seen what was going on with Betty. But then, people like Betty were very clever about hiding things.

  Noelle wheeled Althea into the kitchen and settled her at the pine kitchen table while she fixed her soup. Althea may have become silent with despair, but now she chatted away about everything and nothing, mostly stories of the past and the husband she adored.

  Noelle and Silas listened quietly as they sat with their sandwiches and Althea finished her soup.

  “Are you ready for a nap?” Noelle asked when Althea’s head b
egan to nod.

  Althea jerked and her eyes flew open. “No pills.”

  “All right. But I need to know where Betty kept your medications.”

  “Upstairs in the bathroom,” said Silas. “But she kept other ones in her purse. Those are the ones she made Nana take. Something to make her sleep.”

  “Okay, I’ll see to that in a minute. First, we’ll get Nana to bed.”

  After Noelle got Althea to her room, she helped her in the bathroom. Watching the movement of her legs, Noelle’s guess that Althea had never received ongoing rehabilitation exercises was confirmed.

  Noelle helped Althea onto her bed and pulled a lightweight blanket over her. After Althea was sleeping, Noelle went to the bathroom upstairs to check on the medications. None of the containers of medication contained anything out of the ordinary. Betty had been clever to keep those others out of sight.

  Downstairs, Noelle found the phone number of the agency for which Betty had worked and gave them a call. “I’m just reporting the incident,” she explained. “I’m sure the family will want to talk to you themselves.”

  “Thank you,” said the manager. “I’m alarmed to hear about this. I assure you we’ll investigate the matter right away. Betty Wickstrom is a recent hire to our staff and passed all the requirements and references. Before discussing this with you any further, I’ll await a call from a member of the family. You do understand this has to be between us and them for the moment.”

  “Yes, I do.” Satisfied she’d done all she could to resolve the situation, Noelle walked out to the porch. Silas was sitting in a chair, playing a game on his tablet. Duke rose from his spot on the floor next to Silas and came over to greet her. Noelle rubbed the dark fur on his head and sat in a chair beside Silas.

  Noelle drew a deep breath and asked the question that had been hovering in her mind like a bee ready to sting. “Silas, did Mrs. Wickstrom ever hurt you?”

  “No,” he said. “I hid under the bed when she got mad at me.”

  A shiver traveled down Noelle’s back. “How often did that happen?”

 

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