Shadows of Memories (Baxter Academy)

by Charles, Jane

  We follow Dylan inside and gather around the dining room table where he’s put the rolls back down. “Tell her, Cole.”

  Jenna blinks up at me and my stomach tightens further.

  “Tell me what?”

  “Some of the guys I work with are construction workers on the side. They drew up different plans of what you might want to do at the house.”

  She frowns, but I don’t see any anger.

  “I’m not sure what I want to do.”

  “You gotta do something, Jenna,” Dylan insists. “The house can’t stay that way forever.”

  “I just got the documents from the insurance company.”

  “So they’re going to cover it?” Joey asks.

  “Yes. At least as much as the policy covers.”

  “Great!” Dylan says. “I’m sure you can probably get a loan for whatever it doesn’t cover, if the repairs cost more.”

  Jenna takes a step back. “I’m not sure. Let me get the check first and then I’ll decide.”

  Dylan meets my eyes across the table.

  “The guys worked hard on these, Jenna,” Dylan insists. “The least you can do is look at them.”

  I’m glad Dylan said that. He can probably get away with more of that than I can at the moment. They’ve been best friends since something like kindergarten.

  She just stares at the rolls of paper then finally nods.

  “This first one is just fixing and restoring it back to what it was.”

  “That’s probably what I’ll do. So it’s familiar to Nana.”

  Again, Dylan meets my eyes, but says nothing.

  “This is if you want to modernize the house.” I flip to the next one. “Making it a more open concept.”

  She leans in and studies them then points to the office. “What’s this? Why is it different?”

  Dylan laughs. “That’s on all the plans, at Cole’s insistence.”

  She looks up at me. I didn’t think she’d notice that it was anything but fixing the office. “I thought it should be two stories, like the rest of the house, instead of a single story addition.”

  Jenna nods. “That makes since. An extra room increases value, right.”

  “It’s still one room. A two story room. Lined with shelves.”

  She gasps and for the first time since we came in the house, she smiles. “A two story library?”

  “Yep,” Dylan answers. “We tried to talk him out of it, but Cole insists. No matter what plan you pick, you’re getting that damn library.”

  Her grin widens and she turns to me, throwing her arms around me and hugging tight. “Thank you.”

  Inwardly I sigh. This’s going much better than I thought and all it took was giving her a library. I just wished everything could be as easy.

  Her phone rings. Jenna grabs it from her pocket and the smile falls from her face.

  Thirty-Six

  My phone rings and I grab it from my pocket. It’s the nursing home. Every muscle in my body tenses. I was just there a few hours ago. What could be wrong?

  “Hello?”

  “Ms. Ferguson. This is Karen from Manor Gardens. We need to clarify that the DNR is still in place for your grandmother.”

  My heart stops. “Excuse me?”

  “The DNR, is it still in place?”

  “DNR?” Did I hear her correctly?

  Cole stiffens beside me and his arm goes around my waist. I push at him and step away. I can’t concentrate when he’s touching me.

  “The Do Not Resuscitate Order.”

  “I know what it is,” I snap at her. “What happened?”

  Cole steps close, but doesn’t touch me. If he tries to comfort me I’ll lose it. I can’t fall apart right now.

  “There’s been another episode. She’s resting now.”

  “How bad?”

  There’s a pause. “Possibly a minor stroke.”

  “Stroke!” I know I yelled but I can’t believe Karen’s so calm and I am a bit pissed that she opened the conversation asking about the DNR.

  “It was mild, from what we can tell, but since we now believe that may have happened yesterday too, they may become more frequent so we want to know your intentions and if the DNR holds.”

  I grab a dining room chair, pull it out and sit. “What are my choices?”

  “You can send her to the hospital, but they are more likely to use life sustaining methods, whereas if something happens here, we honor the DNR and provide comfort only.”

  I can’t think. “Do I need to come there?”

  “I don’t think so. She’s resting comfortably.”

  I’m going anyway. I need to see for myself. “Is there anything you can give her?”

  “Not really. We’ve called the doctor, but there is little that can be done after a stroke.”

  “What about preventing more?”

  She sighs. “It’s difficult when we don’t have a specific cause. Right now her vitals are good and her blood pressure is steady.”

  “Okay, let me think about this. It’s hard to answer. I don’t want to give the okay for the DNR if she can be helped.”

  “I understand.”

  “I’ll speak with you soon. And please, call if anything else happens.”

  “I will.”

  “What happened?” Cole asks as soon as I hang up.

  “Nana had a stroke.” My hearts racing and my stomach’s in knots. With everything that’s happened, this call has left me the most shaken. “I need to see her.”

  “Of course.”

  I barely say goodbye to my hosts and friends and walk to Cole’s truck. Please, please let her be okay.

  It’s the call I’ve been afraid she’d receive. I just hoped it wouldn’t be this soon. I get that Jenna needs to see Nana. She won’t relax until she does, tries to talk to her, and evaluates the situation for herself.

  “Do you know that after telling me who she is that the first words out of her mouth was asking if the DNR was in place?” Jenna’s fuming.

  I don’t blame her. I could tell by the conversation she didn’t know about the stroke or the reason for the call until after that question. That would set anyone off. “The nurse could have handled it better.”

  “I get that they’re probably used to these situations because they work in a nursing home and all, but those of us on the other end of the phone aren’t. I thought Nana was about to die. They can’t do that to people.”

  Maybe this Karen has little experience, but I may say something to the administrator. Nobody should get that phone call. At least explain why before asking the question.

  I’m not sure what to say to Jenna. She is quiet, looking out the window, but her foot’s bouncing her leg up and down proving how anxious she is. The drive isn’t all that long but Jenna probably feels like it’s on the other side of the country.

  I don’t know what to say. I’d hold her hand, but she pulled away from me in the dining room. All I’d wanted to do was give her comfort, strength, whatever. Just let her know I’m here.

  How come every time things turn bad for Nana, Jenna pulls further away from me? I love her and want to take care of her. But, I’m not sure I can be in a relationship if the other person turns from me when things get tough instead of to me. Isn’t that what being a couple is about? You lean on each other in the hard times and laugh together in the good?

  Had something gone badly in an earlier relationship and she couldn’t rely on the guy she was with? Had someone hurt her? Or, has she never needed anyone before?

  I need her and I hope to hell she needs me.

  “How bad do you think it is?”

  At least she’s talking to me now. “I don’t know. What did the nurse say?”

  “She said it was minor and she’s resting.”

  “People have them a lot and recover.” I offer hopefully.

  “Even a minor stroke isn’t exactly a minor thing.”

  There is that. “Some people have had strokes and nobody knows until it
shows up on a scan. Don’t worry until you see her.”

  Jenna whips around, looking at me. “How can I not?”

  Shit. “I just meant try and think positive until you can assess the situation. Worrying is only going to upset you more.”

  I’m focusing on the road, but she blows out a sigh and I can tell she’s turned to face forward again. “You’re right, but it’s hard not to jump to the worst conclusion.”

  “I know.”

  I pull into the parking lot and am able to find a spot close to the door. Jenna is out of the truck before I can come around and open her door for her, but she waits for me to catch up at the front. “Do you want me to come in with you?” After she pushed me away, I’m not assuming anything, though I hoped she wouldn’t go in alone. I don’t know what she’ll find.

  “Please.”

  She punches in the codes for each of the doors as we approach them and as soon as we are in the memory unit, she grabs my hand. I give it a quick squeeze. I shouldn’t be thinking about myself, but I’m glad she wants me.

  Her hand gets tighter and tighter as we get closer to Nana’s room. I hope Nana is still resting and nothing happened since Jenna got the call. A nurse is just coming out of her room.

  “How is she?”

  “She’s sitting in bed eating dinner.”

  “Dinner?” Jenna says, her eyes filled with confusion.

  “Not much. More like picking at it. But, she’s awake.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “Of course.”

  I follow Jenna into the room. Nana is sitting up in bed tearing apart bread. Her eyes seem to light up when she sees Jenna and Nana smiles but only half of her mouth turns up. I don’t know if it’s gotten worse or not because she didn’t smile the last time we were here. When it’s relaxed, the droop doesn’t look any worse to me.

  Jenna settles on the side of her bed and takes Nana’s hand. “How are you?”

  “This and that.”

  It’s not much of an answer, but Jenna visibly relaxes.

  “Would you like me to read to you?” She pulls a book from her bag. It’s Little Women again.

  Jenna picks up where she left off and I settle into a chair in the corner.

  Not that Nana has seemed that agitated, but Jenna’s reading soothes her. She stops tearing at the bread and relaxes back against her pillow and closes her eyes. It’s not long before her breaths are even and deep.

  Jenna closes the book and stands. “I love you, Nana. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  We quietly leave the room and Jenna is far calmer than she was when we arrived.

  The nurse is standing in the hall and pulls us into an empty room.

  “Have you thought about how you want to proceed if she continues to have strokes?”

  Jenna bites her lips, glances at me and then back at the nurse. “I know what my grandmother wanted when she prepared her Power of Attorney. She did not want any life sustaining methods. Just made comfortable.”

  The nurse nods.

  “But call me if anything happens. I don’t care what time it is.”

  The nurse smiles gently. “We will.” And starts leading us from the room. “It’s possible this might not happen again. It’s possible she will have several more that don’t affect her. Or—”

  Jenna holds up her hand. “I know what the “or” could be.”

  I get that she doesn’t want to discuss the inevitable. I wouldn’t want to either. At least she’s accepting it and it could still be a long ways off. I’ve known people to live here for years when people didn’t think they’d last a month. It’s all guesswork. Especially with dementia and Alzheimer’s patients.

  We return to the truck and I open the door for her. “Do you want to go back to Kian’s?”

  “No. I just want to go home.”

  Thirty-Seven

  I’m not sure I can get out of Cole’s truck. What am I going to find inside? How much damage is there? Will insurance even cover it all?

  My throat closes and my chest hurts. This is anxiety. I’ve had it before and it sucks. I take deep breaths and try to relax. Maybe if my head would stop pounding I could. My hands are shaking and I struggle to gain control over my emotions. I can’t break now. I don’t have time. There’s too much to do. I need to see the house and decide what to do.

  We just left the nursing home. Nana was up and about, as if nothing happened last night. She’s rallied better than I have. But, I can’t fool myself into thinking this is the end of it. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring and I need to prepare myself, the best that I can.

  Is it even fucking possible to prepare? I haven’t been able to yet.

  Cole comes around to my side of the truck and opens the door. I just sit there staring at the house. The front windows are boarded up. Band-Aids on an injured home.

  No, not a home. It’s just a house and nobody died. I can’t think of it as my home. It’s just a house my grandfather had built for Nana. A structure that can be fixed and replaced.

  Cole says nothing. He simply stands there as if following my lead. He’s been doing that a lot lately. I’m grateful beyond words.

  He’s been more patient than I think I’d be. He wanted to hold me last night. Comfort me. Making me dinner, rubbing my feet and I just wanted him to go away. Not that I don’t want him around, but each time he touches me, I just want to crawl on his lap, sob on his shoulder and beg him to make it all better. I even sent him to bed without me, afraid he’d pull me in his arms and I’d end up crying into my pillow or on his chest. I can’t afford to let myself be weak. Not with everything I have to do. I can’t afford to break. It doesn’t serve any purpose and it’s better to bury than to feel. If I start feeling, I’ll never make it.

  I swallow past the lump in my throat. After we are done here, I’ll go back to the apartment and work on my projects and prepare for the students scheduled for tomorrow. It’s a good plan but I need to get this done first.

  I blow out a sigh and get out of the truck. “Let’s do this.” With each step my anxiety increases. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, slowly, and over and over until I reach the door. Cole follows and remains quiet. I almost wish he would say something. Not that I have a clue what he could say in this situation to make me feel better. There isn’t anything he can say.

  I close my eyes and turn the door handle, but it doesn’t budge. It’s locked. They’ve locked a fire-ravaged house?

  A giggle bubbles up. I am losing my fucking mind. This is not a time to laugh, but I can’t help it. I fish my keys out of my pocket and unlock the door and push it open.

  All I can do is stand and look. Black, charred walls are all that remain of the foyer. Half of the railing leading upstairs is blackened, but the rest are just smoke damaged. I take a step inside. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

  “Yes.” He answers, coming up beside me. “I had a few engineers go through it.”

  The living room is destroyed, completely. The room where I’d spent so much of my childhood, watching television and playing games, is just a blackened and scarred room. Any picture that was on the walls or on tables is destroyed. Anything that was plastic is melted. Most of the contents have already been removed and even though I know this is Nana’s home, it’s unrecognizable.

  Is there even enough insurance money to fix it and can I bring it back to what it was?

  Nana would be distraught if she could see her house, if she even remembered what it looked like.

  Remember! That’s a laugh. There’s so much she doesn’t remember anymore. Only shadows of memories flit across her mind. At least it seems that way based on conversations. Sort of like the memories I have of my parents. Moving shadows with glimpses of a childhood before they were taken.

  My chest tightens again. I can’t let my emotions get the best of me. I don’t have time. I must keep moving forward.

  I move from room to room, taking it in. Or trying to. With each step, my throat closes a l
ittle more, my chest aches and my hands start tingling. I hate that I can’t control my emotions. Nana would so I should too. I need to.

  This isn’t going to be easy for Jenna but I’m glad she isn’t putting it off anymore. She stops in the middle of the living room. It’s a black mess of destruction. Her face is a mask of stone. I have no idea what she’s thinking, seeing the destruction for the first time. She takes a deep breath. Her shoulders rise and fall. “Well, I guess we should make some decisions.”

  “Where do you want to start?”

  She says nothing and turns a slow circle. “It’s too quiet.”

  It’s amazing how much noise is in a house just from appliances, such as refrigerators, and things like that. You don’t realize how much there is until you’re faced with the silence of a dead house. “I can turn on some music.”

  “Yeah. That’ll be good.” She takes out her notebook and pen and wanders into the office. “This room will have to be gutted, just like the living room.”

  I pull the iPad from my pack and find my music. The prom mix that Joey made is in my playlists and I select it. At least I’ll know she’ll be familiar with the songs and maybe it’ll be something fun to listen to, not that there is anything fun about what we are doing, but a bit of normalcy from an earlier time might help. “We’ll gut the rooms, get drywall up and replace the flooring. It’ll be a clean slate.”

  She nods and wanders into the kitchen. As this is right off the dining room there is a lot of smoke damage, but luckily the flames didn’t reach this far.

  She isn’t saying much. I’m not even sure she hears the music and I just follow as she goes back out to the hall and up the stairs.

  “It’s not too bad up here.”

  “The carpet will have to be replaced. Otherwise, I think you’re just looking at new paint and furnishings.”