by Terri Reid
“I’ll find her, Alison,” Mary promised. “And I’ll let her know.”
Mary woke up in Bradley’s arms. He leaned over and placed a kiss on her lips. “Welcome back. How did it go?” he asked.
“I found the baby’s mother,” Mary said. “Her name was Alison Grandee and she died at the age of seventy-seven in January of this year. Someone took her baby away from her when she was a young woman and she never saw her again. She needs to find her.”
He pulled her close and held her. “So, she found the woman with a golden heart to help her,” he said softly. “Why do you think she just didn’t appear to you? Why do you think she ended up in your dreams?”
Mary snuggled against him and yawned. “I don’t know,” she answered sleepily. “Maybe this was the only way she could reach me.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Well, you took control of your dream in less than twenty minutes,” he said, reaching over her and turning off the light on the nightstand. “So, now I suggest you finally get a good night’s sleep and stop running down long hallways all night long.”
She chuckled softly and yawned again. “That sounds like a wonderful idea,” she said. “Good night, Bradley.”
“Good night, Mary.”
Chapter Twelve
It only took Mary a matter of minutes to find the online copy of Alison Robinson Grandee’s obituary. She had actually lived in Freeport until she died at one of the assisted living facilities close to town. Her obituary mentioned her husband, who had passed away prior to her death, and her two sons, but there was no mention of a daughter. Did her sons know about their stepsister? Would Alison want them to know, or had it been her secret? A secret she carried to her grave?
“Well, what’s the use of living in small town America if you can’t take advantage of its primary characteristic?” she muttered to herself as she pushed herself out of the chair and walked to the door. “Everyone knows everyone else’s business.”
Leaving her office, she walked the few steps to Wagner’s Office Supplies and entered the front door. The clerk behind the desk, one of Stanley’s daughters-in-law, smiled at Mary. “Good morning,” she said in a cheery voice. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh, about the same,” Mary replied. “Starving all the time.”
“I remember that feeling,” the woman replied. “Stanley’s in the back, in the office, and there are doughnuts back there. Just in case you’re interested.”
Mary stopped and shook her head. “Have you ever met a pregnant woman who wasn’t at least interested in doughnuts?” she asked.
Laughing, the woman shook her head. “No, I can’t say I have,” she agreed.
Mary walked to the back of the large store and knocked on the old, wooden door that had the word “Office” imprinted in gold letters on the opaque glass window.
“Come in,” Stanley called from the other side of the door.
Mary pushed the door open and found Stanley sitting at a small, round table, newspaper in one hand and a doughnut in the other, perusing the local news.
“Well, someone’s hard at work,” Mary commented as she walked over to the table to join him.
He pushed the box of doughnuts in her direction. “Nope, someone’s hardly working,” he replied with a smile. “That’s the benefit of being the old, should-have-already-retired guy on the job.”
Mary selected a filled Long John with Bavarian crème filling. “You can’t retire,” she replied, sitting down next to him. “This place would fall apart without your knowledge of stock and customer specifications. You’re like a walking database.”
Stanley chuckled and took a bite of his doughnut. “Yep, and that’s what I keep telling ‘em,” he said. “Which keeps me supplied with doughnuts, newspapers and…,” he lowered the newspaper and grinned at her, “a wonderful place to escape a honey-do list.”
Mary bit into her doughnut and smiled at Stanley. “Well, as long as you give me doughnuts as hush pastry, I’ll never tell Rosie,” she vowed.
Stanley put the newspaper down on the table, folded his arms and met Mary’s eyes. “So, girlie, you want to tell me why you ain’t next door solving the problems of the world?” he asked.
“I need your help with one of those problems,” she explained. “Did you know Alison Grandee?”
Stanley tapped his chin with one finger and looked off to the corner of the room while he thought about it. “Grandee, Grandee, Grandee,” he muttered. “Didn’t she just die, not too long back?”
Mary nodded. “Yes, she died in January,” she replied.
“Nice woman,” he mused. “A couple of kids. Boys. And her husband was in business, banking I think.”
“Wow, you are a database,” Mary said. “Did you ever hear about her background? Before she was married and moved here?”
Stanley sat back in this chair and slowly took a bite of his doughnut, his eyes focused on the ceiling for a moment. “Seems to me she was kinda quiet about her background. Don’t think I ever heard her talk about where she grew up.”
“Could she have been married before Mr. Grandee?” she asked.
Stanley stared at her for a moment. “What you got up your craw this morning?” he asked.
Mary grinned. “I just want to find out what’s public knowledge about her and what she kept secret,” Mary replied, pushing against the table in order to get out of her chair. “So, now that I know, I think I’ll go directly to the source.”
Stanley stood up and hurried to her side just as she got into a standing position. “You sure you should be following up on a lead all by your lonesome?” he asked. “It’s not like you’d be able to run away too quickly.”
She looked down at her protruding belly and then looked up at Stanley. “Are you volunteering to come along with me?” she asked. “You don’t even know where I’m going.”
“Sure am,” he said decisively. “’Sides, I know you’re going to that assisted living center where Alison died.” He shook his finger at her. “I’ve known you long enough, girlie, to know how you operate.”
She leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Stanley,” she said. “I would love to have you as company.”
Chapter Thirteen
The drive to the assisted living facility outside of town took about ten minutes, but Mary wished it had taken longer. The trees in the area were blazing in their individual, autumn glory, bright red and orange maples stood alongside golden oaks and bright yellow birch trees; it was breathtaking in its beauty. “I would love to find a place where it was fall all year long,” she said to Stanley. “I’d move there in an instant.”
“That’s what you think,” Stanley replied. “But you’d miss the other seasons soon enough. I’ve seen how much you love snowball fights and sledding.”
Mary glanced down at her belly. “Yeah, well I might have to forgo that this year,” she replied.
He chuckled. “But you just wait until he’s old enough to play outside,” Stanley said. “A whole new world of fun opens up when you start to see things through a child’s eyes.”
Smiling softly, Mary nodded. “I’m already seeing that with Clarissa,” she agreed. “And I can’t wait to experience it with Mikey.”
They pulled into the parking lot and found a parking spot near the front door. Stanley put his hand on Mary’s arm to stop her from exiting. “Now remember, if you sense that there’s trouble here, we leave right away and you bring Bradley back with you,” Stanley insisted. “There ain’t no way I’m letting you endanger yourself or Mikey. Got it?”
Mary nodded and smiled at Stanley. “Got it,” she replied. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”
They got out of the car and started walking towards the entrance when Mary noticed that Stanley seemed to be struggling as he walked. She stopped and turned to him. “Stanley, what’s wrong?” she asked concern heavy in her voice.
He looked up at her, a twinkle in his eye, and winked. “Just doing my part, girlie. I’m supposed
to be your feeble, old uncle.”
She breathed a quick sigh of relief and shook her head. “Next time warn me,” she whispered, wrapping her arm around his. “But, I have to admit, you had me convinced.”
He chuckled softly as they continued into the building. The sliding glass doors opened into a small vestibule with another set of locked doors and an intercom. Mary pressed the button and waited for a response.
“Good morning,” came the cheery response. “How may I help you?”
“Hi, I’m here with my uncle and we’d like to look around your facility,” Mary replied.
A soft buzzing sound indicating the release of the lock was the reply and Mary pushed the door open and led Stanley through into the lobby. They were immediately greeted by the person on the other end of the voice, a perky young woman with a bright smile. “Hello, I’m Candy,” she said, including both of them in her smile. “I’m so glad you chose to visit us today.”
“It was her idea,” Stanley grumbled. “I don’t need no assisted care center. I’m doing just fine living all on my own.”
Mary patted Stanley’s arm patiently and sighed deeply. “It took quite a lot of convincing to get him to come here today,” she explained. “He doesn’t want to be treated like an invalid.”
“Well, of course not,” Candy said. “And this place is certainly not like that at all. We have all kinds of activities. We have wonderful food and we even have transportation for shopping, trips to the barber shop and other special events. Our guests are not invalids; they have just reached a point in their lives when they want someone else to take care of the bothersome things. They would rather spend their time enjoying life.”
Stanley studied the young woman for a moment and then nodded slowly. “Well, then, I just might be interested in seeing what you have to say,” he replied. “Iffen you mean it.”
“Oh, yes, sir,” she replied earnestly. “We love all of our residents, and our job is to make sure we consider your every need.”
Turning towards Mary, Stanley huffed. “Seems like someone knows how to treat me,” he grumbled.
Mary had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. “Uncle Stanley, you know we all love you,” she said.
“Humph,” he retorted. “Let’s go on the tour.”
The young woman guided them into a little room that was decorated to seem more like a living room than an office. “Just give me a moment and I’ll let our director know you are here,” she said. “I know he’ll want to give you the tour himself.”
She left the room, closing the door behind her. Stanley sat down on the couch and motioned for Mary to follow. She sat next to him and was going to congratulate him on his acting when he shook his head and stopped her. “These places often have cameras and recording devices so they can determine the relationships between the new resident and their families before they allow them in,” he whispered.
“How did you—” she began.
“Read it in one of those magazines at the barber shop,” he replied, a twinkle in his eye.
“I’ve got to start going there,” she whispered back, laughter in her voice. “Okay, I’ll follow your lead.”
Stanley sat back and looked around the room. “I don’t know about this place,” he complained loudly. “It seems too frilly, like some fussy woman decorated it. I ain’t gonna be living in some room that’s pink and frilly.”
“I’m sure they have different colors in their rooms, Uncle Stanley,” Mary insisted. “If not, we can redecorate for you.”
“I’m not spending my money redecorating someone else’s room,” he said. “If I don’t like what I see, we can go somewhere else.”
“Of course we can, Uncle Stanley,” Mary replied. “There are many other choices.”
A moment later the door opened and a middle-aged man walked in. He was tall and slim, dressed in a striped blue and pink dress shirt, pink tie and khaki-colored dress slacks and had conservatively-styled blonde hair and a slight tan.
“Hello,” he said, his smile warm and inviting. “My name is Trey Habersham and I’m the director. I understand you’d like a tour of the facilities.”
Stanley stood up and walked over to Trey. “Well, I don’t necessarily want a tour, but it looks like I’ve got to take one,” he grumbled. “I’m Stanley.”
Trey smiled at Stanley and shook his hand. “Well, I hope we can make it a positive experience for you,” he said. “Why don’t we first look at one of the model bedrooms? We have rooms that we feel appeal specifically to men without the fussy frills that women like.”
Stanley glanced quickly over his shoulder and sent Mary a quick wink. “Well, you brought me here. Are you coming along?” he grumbled.
Biting back a smile, she nodded. “If you help me off this couch, I will,” she replied.
“Allow me,” Trey said, quickly moving around Stanley, offering Mary his hand and pulling her up from the couch. “I am so happy to meet you.”
“Thank you,” Mary said as she stood up straight. “I appreciate the lift.”
“Is Stanley your grandfather?” Trey asked.
Stanley scowled and Mary grinned. “No, he’s my uncle,” she said. “And we’ve been trying to find a place that would suit him and help him in his old age.”
“Well, I am sure that we will be able to fulfill all of his needs,” Trey replied with a smile. “How did you hear about us?”
They moved from the small office into the hallway and Trey led them back towards the main lobby where the various wings of the building originated.
“I had a friend who stayed with you,” Stanley replied. “The only reason I would even think about touring this place is because Alison Grandee spoke so highly of it.”
Trey turned around quickly and faced Stanley. “Mrs. Grandee,” he repeated. “Yes, she was a lovely woman and it was a great loss when she passed on. Were you close to her?”
Stanley nodded. “Yes, we were quite close,” he replied. “My wife and she were nearly inseparable. When she died it was like having my wife die all over again.”
Stanley had done an amazing job of laying the groundwork, Mary thought, and now all she had to do was close the deal. “Which one of the rooms did Alison used to live in?” she asked.
Stanley paused and looked around, a look of confusion and consternation on his face. He looked up one of the wings and down another. “These dadgum hallways all look the same to me,” he complained.
“She lived down this hallway on the east wing,” Trey interjected. “She was on the second floor in room 214.”
Stanley breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Yes,” he said. “Now I remember. Thank you.”
“Now the room I’d like to show you is through here, in our west wing,” he said.
They turned towards that wing when Mary grabbed her belly and gasped. Both men went white and turned to her. “Are you okay?” Trey gulped.
“You having the baby?” Stanley asked.
Mary slowly moved to a small, upholstered bench next to a wall in the hallway and lowered herself onto it. “No,” she breathed slowly. “No, I’m fine, just a little pre-labor contraction.”
“A contraction?” Trey squeaked.
Mary shook her head. “Not a real contraction,” she explained, taking short breaths. “Just a practice one. But I’m going to have to sit here for a few minutes and catch my breath. Why don’t you both go on with the tour and I’ll wait for you here.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Stanley asked. “We can just go home if you’d like. We’ve got lots of other homes lined up to visit.”
Mary could see that Trey was torn between leaving her alone and losing the potential sale if Stanley didn’t take the tour.
“Well, it actually might be better for her to rest for a few minutes while we walk around,” he suggested. “Why don’t we continue, and if she has any problems, she can have my assistant contact me via my radio.”
“That would be fine,” Mary said.
�
��Are you sure?” Stanley asked, sending Mary another sly wink.
“Perfect, really,” Mary insisted.
“Okay then,” Stanley agreed, turning toward Trey. “I guess I’m ready to hear your sales pitch.”
Mary watched them walk down the hall and out of sight before she got up and hurried over to the elevator. The door slid open and she pressed the button for the second floor.
Chapter Fourteen
The elevator doors slid open and Mary immediately found the sign on the wall that indicated room locations. Turning right, she followed the hall until she arrived at room 214. She went to the door and knocked. A moment later the door was opened and an elderly man answered.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mary exclaimed. “I was looking for Alison Grandee.”
The man’s eyes softened and he shook his head. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “But Mrs. Grandee died several months ago.”
The ghost of Alison Grandee appeared in the room behind the man. She was the same woman whom Mary had seen in her dream the night before. Mary had the immediate thought that in the light of day she looked familiar and wondered if she had met her before. The woman listened politely as the man explained to Mary about how the nursing home might be able to give Mary the information about Alison’s final resting place. Then Alison smiled at the man and walked through him into the hallway. He shivered slightly and then shook his head. “I’m so sorry that I was the one who had to tell you the news.”
“Thank you,” Mary replied quietly. “I’m so sorry to have bothered you.”
The man nodded and closed the door. Mary and Alison walked away from the room, back towards the elevator.
“That was very nice of him,” Alison replied. “He was always a lovely gentleman.”
“Did you know him when you were alive?” Mary asked.
