Shadows of Memories (Baxter Academy)

by Charles, Jane

  “I doubt she’s eaten. Go get some food and take it to her,” Dylan suggests.

  It’s a good idea. I don’t want her to be alone. “You guys got this?”

  “Yeah.”

  I call Sullivan’s as soon as I get in my truck and order two burger platters and pick them up on the way to Jenna’s. Like before, the front door to the house is open and I let myself in and go up the stairs and knock on her door.

  She’s changed into cute little pajamas with kittens all over them and her hair is damp. At least I didn’t show up when she was in the shower again.

  Holding up the bags, I say, “We had breakfast, but we never got burgers.”

  She says nothing, but at least she stands back and opens the door so I can come in. I was halfway afraid she’d shut it in my face. Is she still blaming me for what happened?

  Maybe it makes her feel better to do so, but we both know that’s not the truth. At least I’m pretty sure she didn’t stay simply to have sex with me. Besides, the reception wasn’t over until ten. She would have had to rush to change her clothes, get her bag and a cab and get to the station. I think the last train leaves at 11:30, or maybe it’s eleven. Still, it would have been a rush for her and she wouldn’t have gotten back to her place until nearly two in the morning. And, even if she was in town, she could have been at her apartment when the fire started.

  “I was just starting to go through the papers.”

  “Shouldn’t you be resting?” She needs to give herself a break. All of this can wait.

  “Don’t have time.”

  “What’s so important?” I put the sacks on the table and start taking out the food, careful not to get them near the paperwork she has stacked on the table. This place is oddly empty. If the smoke damage is bad enough, the only possessions Jenna now has are the things in this apartment. A few dishes, her Keurig, pictures, a week’s worth of clothing and probably toiletries.

  There’s a note stuck to the table and I read it. “Your apartment has been rented. Please be out by Sunday, 5:00 p.m. and your deposit will be refunded and you won’t be charged for breaking the lease.”

  “Shit.”

  She looks up and then notices what I just read. “Yep. It was on the door when I got home.” Her voice is so flat, dead. Has she completely shut down or is she that tired?

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I need to find a two bedroom anyway, for me and Nana.”

  “How long are they going to keep her?”

  Jenna goes into the kitchen, grabs some paper plates and takes ketchup out of the fridge and brings them to the table. “I’m not sure.”

  “So, you have time.”

  “No. I have until Sunday.”

  Rushed decisions are often poorly made decision. “Sleep on it. Once you’re refreshed, I’m sure you’ll come up with a plan.”

  “I don’t have time to sleep right now. Too much to do.” She goes back into the kitchen and opens the fridge again, taking out two beers.

  “If you don’t rest, you’ll drop from exhaustion and be out for days.”

  Jenna lets out a big sigh and sets the beers on the table. If she hasn’t eaten and she drinks the beer that may just put her out. I can only hope because she needs to sleep before anything else, except eating.

  I had hoped we could have a conversation over dinner, so I could figure out how to best help her, but she puts her burger and some fries on the plate, sets it to her side, and starts going through papers, sifting out what she needs and what she doesn’t.

  “This is the insurance policy. I wish I could make sense of it. I’ve never had to worry about this kind of stuff.”

  “Let me see it.” I take the document, glad I can be of some help. I’ve limited experience with insurance policies, but after seeing the devastation of a house fire, I know what I want in one. I skim through the legal language that hopefully is generic and won’t affect any type of coverage and get to the limits. “The house is insured for a two hundred thousand and the contents are at a hundred thou.”

  “Is that good?”

  “I think so.” Hell, I don’t know how much it costs to build or repair a house. “It’s paid off, so if you need extra, you can probably get a loan.”

  “I’m not sure Nana can get another loan. She’s on a fixed income.”

  Do I tell her that the house isn’t Nana’s? Is it my place? Would she be upset to know Dylan and I have already looked at the papers?

  She puts the papers in the stack of documents she needs to keep then takes a swig of her beer. I’ll let her figure it out on her own.

  She’s not saying much, just dipping fries into ketchup and reading papers. She’s barely touched the burger.

  Her eyes go wide and she sets a fry down. “What does this mean?” She shoves the paper at me.

  It’s the deed. I read through it one more time. “Your grandmother put the house in your name.”

  “But, what does that mean?”

  “That you own it, and not her.”

  Jenna pushes her fingers through her hair and leans back. “What else has she done?”

  She takes it back and skims it again. “This was done about the same time she signed her will and made sure I was on her bank accounts and safe deposit box.”

  My eyes meet hers. “Maybe she was starting to fear something was happening back then and wanted to take precautions.”

  “But why not tell me?”

  I just shrug. “Maybe it was a precaution for when she got older. Maybe she didn’t want to worry you.” It’s anyone’s guess why Nana did anything she did.

  Jenna finally finishes her burger when she gets through the last of the papers. I’m just glad there weren’t a ton or she would stay awake all night.

  “I feel better now, knowing what she has in insurance, health coverage and all that. They kept asking me questions at the hospital and the nursing home and I was afraid I was missing something. Her cards are in her purse, which is probably destroyed.”

  “It’s on her bed.”

  Jenna frowns. “Nana always keeps it in the kitchen.”

  Again, I have no answers. “There’s a purse on her bed. We left it there.”

  “I’ll get it tomorrow.” She stands and stretches.

  I don’t think she needs to go in the house right now. Yes, she’ll need to see it eventually, but not until she’s ready. If a person can ever be ready for that.

  She takes another beer out of the fridge and settles onto the couch. I join her and she flips on the television.

  “Don’t you want to get some sleep?”

  “I’m exhausted, but my mind won’t stop.”

  I get that. “Then relax. I’m here.”

  She gives me as small smile. “Thanks.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Sun is streaming through the windows when I open my eyes. When did I get in bed? I stretch and look at the clock. It’s almost nine in the morning. “What the hell?”

  The last thing I remember is watching television with Cole, trying not to think about everything I needed to do. Did he leave and I came to bed?

  There’s a dent in the pillow on the other side of the bed and the blankets are messed up. Did he stay the night and sleep with me?

  Why don’t I remember?

  My pajamas are on so I assume we didn’t have sex. After Saturday night, I’m fairly certain I’d wake the minute he touched any of my lady parts.

  I pull myself from the bed and wander out to the kitchen. He’s sitting at the counter, drinking coffee and reading.

  “Have you been here all night?”

  “Yea. I didn’t want you to be alone.”

  “I was so out of it, I wouldn’t have known I was alone.”

  “I wanted to be here just in case.” He puts a cup into the Keurig and holds the basket out to me.

  I pick a dark roast coffee. My brains foggy and I need a kick start.

  “I wonder how Nana did last night.”

  “I’m
sure she’s fine.”

  The folder is on the counter. I should probably read all of their information and it bugs me that I’m not allowed to see her though. “What are you doing today?” I think it’s his day off, unless he’s with the ambulance.

  “Taking you to breakfast, then to the nursing home.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “Yes it is.”

  There’s no energy in me to argue. Besides, it might be nice having him there. Someone else to remember what’s being told to me. I’m not sure I remember half of what was said yesterday or the day before.

  He hands me the cup of coffee and I sit on the stool opposite of him. “I should make a list.”

  “Of what?” He closes the paper and sets it aside.

  “There’s so much to do. Check with the insurance. Stop the utilities to the house. Look for apartments. Sell Nana’s car.”

  He chuckles. “I guess this would be good time to get rid of it.”

  “Maybe she’ll forget she owns one.”

  “We can go by the house if you want. Get things that might be salvageable.”

  My heart constricts. Nana’s house is destroyed. My childhood up in smoke. “No. Not yet.” I don’t think I could handle being in there right now. I almost lost it when I was in the yard. That can wait. It isn’t as if there’s anything I can do right now and there’re more important things to take care of.

  I have many of the same photographs in my apartment that she does at the house. I grab the one of Grandpa and the one of me and my parents. “I’m taking these to her.”

  Cole is driving me wherever I want to go. The first stop after breakfast was a secondhand clothing store where I purchased about seven outfits I think Nana will be comfortable in. Then we go to a discount store for underwear and nightgowns, before stopping at the nursing home. The two of us sit in the reception area writing Nana’s name in her clothing like one would do when sending their child to summer camp while Peggy makes copies of the insurance papers.

  “Is she doing okay?”

  “She’s a bit restless, but she did sleep after you left.”

  “Finally.”

  “She refused to get in her bed and stayed in the recreation room. We left her because we were afraid if we woke her she’d be awake all night.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “She wasn’t out long and up again about midnight.”

  “Oh dear!”

  “That’s okay. We have many residents that have nights and days confused. The unit is fully staffed and they can watch television, play a game, or just lay in bed.”

  I’m just glad she doesn’t have to be locked in a room like she was at the hospital.

  “We’ve been changing her nicotine patches regularly, so maybe that is helping with some of her anxiety.”

  “Well, if anything good comes from this, she’ll quit smoking,” I say dryly.

  When we are done with everything, I almost beg them to let me see her, but I don’t. If she’s getting settled, it’s for the best. Besides, Cole assured me it’s a good place. The staff greeted him by name when he walked in, so it can’t be all that bad, right?

  Cole and I step outside and he puts an arm around me. “I know it’s hard, Jenna.”

  I want to push him away. Not that I don’t like his touch, because I do. But it also makes me want to curl into him and beg him to make it all go away. That’s not possible.

  A lump forms in my throat. I can’t cry. That’ll accomplish nothing. I swallow against it, push the emotion down and clear my throat.

  I was going to offer to check on Mrs. Ferguson for Jenna, but she’s seen me recently and might remember me. I can’t do that to the staff. I’ve been here to get and return patients and I’ve volunteered from time to time. You can always tell who the new ones are because they’re waiting to go home. They don’t get or refuse to accept that they’ll probably never leave here.

  Some have been here for months and are still wanting to go home. It eats at me to see them so hurt and sad.

  Jenna still has the mindset that she will be taking her grandmother out of here. I know it’s never going to happen and I worry about how she’ll deal with it. I considered talking to her about it, but it wouldn’t do any good. All she’s likely to do is get angry and argue with me. This is a decision, or realization she’s going to have to come to terms with all on her own.

  I hate to see her go through this but I can’t think of any way to make it easier. Just be there when she needs me. Right now, she doesn’t act like she needs or wants anyone and that scares me a little too. She’s bottling up her emotions and that can’t be healthy. Her childhood home is destroyed, her grandmother is injured and in a nursing home, and she has to get out of her apartment by Sunday. Why the hell isn’t she crying?

  She’s soldiering on, burying emotion and I’m afraid if she goes too long like this there’s going to be a meltdown.

  But, what can I do? I don’t want to give her a reason to push me away. She’s going to need someone sooner or later it’s going to be me. All I can do is be by her side as she deals the best she knows how, or thinks is the best and be there when the inevitable happens.

  My phone starts ringing as I reach my truck. It’s Kian.

  “Hey, Alexia wants to know if you and Jenna want to come to dinner tonight.”

  I put the phone aside. “Want to have dinner with Kian and Alexia?’

  She stares at me for a bit, a little defeated, or maybe she just emotionally wrung out. “Sure.”

  I put the phone back to my ear. “What time?”

  “Five it is.”

  I hang up and open the door for her. “Now where to?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Twenty-Eight

  “I can’t do anything about the house until I know what the insurance is going to cover,” I’m telling Alexia as we clean up the dishes. It’s really nice of her to cook and one less thing I had to think about today.

  “I’m sure there’s no rush.”

  “But I need to be out of my apartment by this weekend. I gave up the lease and it’s been rented. I looked through the ads today and there aren’t any two bedroom places.”

  “What about mine?”

  “Yours?”

  She places the dishes in the sink and starts rinsing them. “I never gave mine up. All I have there are few dishes, pots and furniture. There’s only one bedroom but you can stay there until you find a place big enough for you and your grandmother.”

  Her apartment is just up the road and would be perfect. “Are you sure?”

  “I was going to terminate the lease when it was up anyway, but that isn’t until May.”

  “Hallelujah!” Kian shouts from the dining room.

  Were they listening to us?

  Alexia chuckles.

  “I was afraid you’d never give that place up.” He runs into the room, grabs Alexia by the waist, swings her around and then kisses her soundly.

  I’m missing something but right now I don’t care. I’m just relieved to have a temporary solution to a very immediate problem.

  She slaps him playfully away and goes back to rinsing the dishes, rolling her eyes, but smiling. “When are you coming back to the school?”

  “Tomorrow. There isn’t much I can do right now and I can’t see Nana until next week.” Not that I like it. But, I’ll give them the time they asked and if it doesn’t work out, we’ll do things my way. The utilities are shut off at the house and I’ve opened a P.O. Box for Nana’s mail and mine until I know where I’ll be living permanently. I’ve done everything else I can.

  Now, I wait. That’s almost as exhausting as the stuff that still needs to be done that I can’t do.

  “Maybe it will help take your mind off things.”

  I’d like to think that it will, but I’m not sure. I just hope I can concentrate enough to be of help to the kids who need me. I never did follow up with the girl at the clothing store. There’s so much to do to
get the kids set up for college that it’s nearly overwhelming, but it’ll keep me busy and maybe not so focused on Nana. At least for a bit.

  “Where are we going?” Jenna asks when I turn off of Kian’s street toward home, away from her apartment.

  “I need to get a few things.”

  “Why don’t you just take me home?” She yawns and leans back. If I thought she would go to sleep and rest I’d do just that.

  “I will. When I get my stuff.”

  “You don’t have to come home with me.”

  “I want to take care of you.”

  “I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

  “Maybe I need to take care of you. Did you ever think about that?”

  Joey’s sitting in the middle of the couch when we walk in. There’s a pizza box on the table and he’s drinking a beer and watching a game.

  “Hey, how’s it going, Jenna?”

  “Okay?”

  “The mess,” I gesture to the dirty dishes, and other stuff on the counters, “is his. I’m neat.”

  “He lies,” Joey says around a mouth full of pizza.

  Admittedly, some of it is mine but I don’t want Jenna thinking I’m a slob. I didn’t used to be, but sometimes I’m so fucking busy that all I have time to do is eat and sleep when I’m here. Sometimes I don’t even get to eat.

  “I’ve been thinking,” I tell her as I walk down the hall to my room. She just stands there by the front door. “Come on.” I nod in the direction of my room.

  She follows me and I close the door behind her and grab the small carry on that I took to New York and start putting the stuff in that I’ll need tomorrow morning.

  “My next two days off are Thursday and Friday, then Sunday and Monday and you need to be out of your apartment on Sunday.”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll be cutting it close if we wait until Sunday.”

  “I don’t have a choice. I need to get back to work.” She sinks down on the corner of my bed.

  “With your permission, I’ll get the car started, move it out of the garage, then put down framing so you can move your furniture there.”