Harsh Pink with Bonus Content

by Melody Carlson

  “But I thought she really didn’t like Chad. Is she actually jealous of Jocelyn?”

  “She’s not jealous of Jocelyn, Reagan. She’s jealous of you.”

  “Me?” I blink as I pick up a tray. “Why? I’m not even dating anyone, although Jonathan has sure been getting friendly. I’m guessing you said something to him?”

  “Just a little something. By the way, how’s the plan with Logan going? You said you were going to talk to him again today.”

  “And I did.” I grin. “And we talked mostly about you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I think he really does like you, Kendra. But he doesn’t like to be pursued by a girl.”

  Kendra nods like the light just went on. “Of course! That explains everything, Reagan. You’re such a genius!”

  I laugh as I pick up a green salad and a packet of dressing.

  “So tell me, why is Sally jealous of me? If that’s even true, which I doubt.”

  “It should be obvious, Reagan. She thinks you’re replacing her and she doesn’t like it.”

  “Oh.”

  “But don’t worry about it. I assured her that I have room in my life for lots of friends.”

  “That’s good.” I just hope Sally bought this, because I really don’t want that girl for an enemy. Kendra is one thing, but Sally is something altogether different. Sally seems ruthless in a way. Like she would resort to almost anything. The whole bit with the uniform switch still sends chills down my spine when I think about it. I did offer to loan Jocelyn the money to pay for the alterations if she promised not to tell anyone that I did. I have a strong suspicion that both Sally and Kendra would not appreciate this little intervention. To be honest, the only reason I did this was to salve my conscience a bit. It seems I am piling up more and more things to feel guilty about — and it’s not fun.

  “How’s Nana?” asks Kendra as we find seats.

  “She moves to the nursing home today,” I tell her.

  “You think she’ll be okay?”

  “The staff there assured my mom that she’ll be fine,” I say, although I’m not convinced. “We packed up a bunch of her things last night and Mom is taking them over today. I’ll go visit her after practice.”

  “You need any moral support?”

  “Thanks,” I say, unsure as to whether I want Kendra to see Nana in this new setting, which might not be too great. “I think I’ll be fine. And Nana will probably be a little disoriented. It might be better if I go alone.”

  She nods and smiles sympathetically. “You’re a good girl, Reagan.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, right!”

  ***

  The nursing home is a nightmare. Okay, that’s my opinion. But, really, it’s so much worse than the first place we visited, I wouldn’t even know where to begin to describe it. But for starters, it really stinks. The whole place smells like a big filthy toilet. Totally gross. And the residents there are all either about to die or just plain crazy. Consequently they’re either heavily sedated or screaming. Really, it’s like a house of horror.

  Poor Nana. She looks so frightened as she lies motionless in her bed. Her eyes are wide and I can tell she feels as if she’s been locked in some kind of terrible prison.

  “Am I going home now?” she asks hopefully when she realizes it’s me. She pushes the covers away as if she’s going to get out of bed.

  “No,” I say in a soothing voice, putting the pale blue bedspread back on. “Your pelvic bone is still broken. You need to get better, Nana.”

  “I can get better at home,” she persists.

  “No,” I say again. “You need to be here where people can help you.”

  “No one helps me here.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m all alone. I haven’t had anything to eat. And no water.”

  “Really?” Now, this is alarming. “Let me go see what I can do.” So I go out to the nurse’s station and demand to know what’s going on.

  “They all say things like that,” the overweight woman tells me.

  “That they haven’t eaten?”

  “Yes. They eat and then forget.”

  “Really? You can assure me she’s had food?”

  “Check her chart, if you like.”

  So I look at her chart, but then I think they can write whatever they like on those charts. Who would know? “Can I give her something to eat now?”

  “Dinner is on its way.”

  “Oh.”

  So I decide to stay long enough to make sure she eats. As nauseating as it is to smell food amid all those other smells, I decide I can do this for Nana’s sake. The tray comes and it’s some kind of noodle-and-beef mess that’s the color of pavement. Nana turns her nose up at it. “I don’t want that.”

  “Come on,” I urge. “Just try it?”

  So she takes a bite. Then another. Before long she’s eaten most of it.

  “How about the applesauce?”

  “That’s not applesauce.”

  “Yes, it is,” I say. “Try it.”

  She takes a bite, then thinks about it. “It’s not applesauce.” Still, she eats all of it and I begin to feel a tiny bit better.

  “Mom will be here soon,” I say, glancing at the clock. “I’m going to go now because I have homework to — ”

  “I want to go,” she says in a childlike voice. “Home?”

  I reach out and take her hand. “Nana, this is home for right now. Okay?”

  She makes a face. “This is not home.”

  I lean down and kiss her. “I love you, Nana,” I say. “I wish I could take you home.”

  She looks hopeful.

  “I’ll tell you what,” I say. “If you get all well, I will take you home.”

  She smiles. “I’ll get all well.”

  “Good.” I squeeze her hand. “Mom will be here in a few minutes.”

  She’s still holding on to my hand and I actually have to pry my fingers free. I wave. “Bye-bye, Nana.”

  She looks like she’s about to cry, but she holds up her hand and curls her fingers, mouthing bye-bye. I feel like my heart’s torn in two as I walk out of her room. Really, it’s my fault that she’s here. First of all, I talked Mom out of letting her stay in the assisted-care place, which now seems like the Hotel Ritz compared to this sleazy place. Second, I wasn’t there when I promised to be and that’s when Nana fell and broke her pelvis. So it seems quite obvious. It’s my fault that Nana is in this horrible place. Somehow I need to think of a way to get her out.

  I’ll think about that after the barbecue.

  Mom and I have been like the old proverbial ships in the night this week, which I think is a good thing after that fight we had. I think we both needed some space. But when Mom gets home tonight, she comes and knocks on the door of my room. I hope I’m not in trouble.

  “Yeah?” I say and she opens it.

  “Nana said you didn’t come to see her today.”

  “Yes, I did, Mom.”

  “Why would she say that?”

  “Because she can’t remember.”

  “But she remembered before, when she was at the hospital.”

  “That’s probably because she’s traumatized over being in that horrible nursing home.” Then I go into a detailed description.

  “Okay, it sounds like you were there,” Mom concedes.

  “That place is nasty,” I continue. “I wouldn’t put a dog there. I can’t stand that Nana’s there. Can’t we find something better?”

  “I’ve already called around.”

  “When?” I challenge.

  Mom gives me a look, but then answers. “Today. After seeing the place last night, I wasn’t too pleased.” She shakes her head. “I’m even less pleased today. Nana said she hadn’t eaten all day.”

  I sigh. “Yeah, she said the same thing to me. So I stayed while she ate dinner.” Then I describe exactly what Nana ate.

  “The Alzheimer’s is getting worse.”

  “I know.”
Again, I feel guilty. Why did I fight Mom on that first place?

  “I arranged to have her chair taken over there tomorrow. I thought it might comfort her to see it. And the physical therapist said she might even be able to get up and sit in it.”

  “How about putting a TV in her room?” I suggest. “She loves the country music channel.”

  Mom nods. “I hadn’t even considered that. Okay, I’ll make sure that happens too.”

  Then it gets very quiet. Neither of us says anything. I realize that for the first time in years, it’s going to be just Mom and me now. I’m not sure how I feel about this. Already I miss Nana’s laughter and antics. I miss her fun spirit and goofy sense of humor. Mom and I tell each other good night, and she goes out and quietly closes my door.

  Then I turn off my computer and to my surprise I begin to cry. I’m not even completely sure why. I just feel so lonely. So lost. Is it simply because Nana is gone? Or is it something more? I wish we could go back to how it used to be. I wish I was a little girl again, coming home from school to find Nana in the kitchen stirring up Rice Krispie treats and adding M&M’s to the mix and then letting me eat the sticky goop right out of the bowl. Why is growing up so hard to do?

  fourteen

  “CAN YOU GIVE ME A RIDE TO THE CLEANERS?” JOCELYN ASKS ME ON FRIDAY after school. “I thought I’d get Chad to take me over, but it turned out he had a dentist appointment at three.”

  “Sorry, I need to go visit my grandma right now.” I sling the strap of my bag over my shoulder. I’ve been trying to be civilized to Jocelyn lately, but I’m also trying to keep my distance. Kendra has made it perfectly clear that she doesn’t want anything to do with Jocelyn. Which means if I want to remain Kendra’s friend, maybe even her best friend, I need to keep Jocelyn at arm’s length or even farther. To be honest, that’s fine with me. Ever since Jocelyn and Chad became a couple, Jocelyn’s been more loud and obnoxious than ever. She even got into a slight argument with Falon over how to properly do a stag jump. Give me a break!

  Jocelyn’s face takes on a pout as she jerks on her jeans. “But I have to get there before five, Reagan.”

  I feel Kendra’s eyes on me now and I know she’s listening. “And why exactly is that my problem?” I turn and stare at Jocelyn like she’s not worth my time.

  Jocelyn glares back at me. “Because you’re a cheerleader and I’m a cheerleader and if I don’t get to the cleaners, I won’t have a uniform to wear to homecoming tonight — and that will make us all look bad.”

  The girl makes a point. “And why is your uniform at the cleaners? I didn’t think you’d even worn it yet.”

  “Because that’s where they’re doing the alterations. My mom dropped it off for me on Monday.”

  “Pity your mom didn’t pick it up for you too.”

  “She has to work late tonight.”

  “Whatever.” I glance at my watch, wishing I could end this conversation and be on my way. “Okay, where is this particular cleaners anyway?”

  “Over on the east side, on Lombard.”

  “Well, that is near my grandma’s nursing home.”

  Kendra is next to me now, smiling. “Oh, Reagan, why don’t you be a sport and pick up the kid’s uniform for her.”

  I try not to blink in surprise. “Well, I guess I could give you a ride over there, Jocelyn, since I’m going that way. But you’ll have to sit and wait while I visit with my grandma,” I warn her. “Because I don’t have time to drive you all the way back home and then go clear across town again.”

  “Why don’t you just pick up the uniform for her?” suggests Kendra.

  I shrug, trying to figure out why Kendra’s being so nice to Jocelyn. “Sure, I guess I could do that.”

  Jocelyn looks truly relieved as she fishes a wrinkled claim ticket from her wallet and hands it to me. “Thanks!” But then she gives me this funny look, like she wants to say something but can’t. And that’s when I remember that I had offered to loan her the money for the alterations, but I made her promise to keep this to herself. I think that’s what’s on her mind. And my guess is she’s broke right now and can’t afford to pick up her uniform anyway. Really, maybe Jocelyn should just drop out of cheerleading if she can’t manage her life any better than this!

  “So is this all I need?” I ask her, hoping she’ll get my drift and play along. “Is it all paid for and everything?”

  “Yeah,” she says lightly. “You have to pay for alterations up front.” She narrows her eyes at Kendra now. “It was pretty expensive too, but not nearly as bad as buying a whole new uniform.”

  Kendra makes a tsk-tsk sound. “Such a pity that happened, Jocelyn. Next time I’m sure you’ll be more careful when you order something online.”

  “Thanks for the helpful advice.” Jocelyn turns around and continues dressing. I can tell she’s furious, but I also know she’s trying to control herself since she realizes I am doing her a big favor.

  “Want to walk to the parking lot together?” asks Kendra.

  “Sure,” I say in a cheerful voice. Nothing like the tone I was using with Jocelyn.

  Once we’re out of the locker room, Kendra begins to talk in a low voice. “I have just come up with the most delectable idea for a prank that we can play on Jocelyn tonight.” Then she giggles and tells me her devious plan for me to loosen up one of the seams on Jocelyn’s uniform so that she’ll be in serious need of more safety pins tonight.

  “I can’t do that,” I tell her.

  “Why not?” She looks seriously disappointed in me.

  “Well, for one thing, I’m not even sure how to do it. I mean, I don’t know the first thing about sewing or unsewing or whatever it is you’re suggesting. Besides that, I’ll be visiting Nana for about an hour or so. Then when I get home I’ll barely have enough time to get ready for the game, drop off Jocelyn’s outfit at her house, and make it — ”

  “No, no, you don’t drop off the outfit at her house. You call her and tell her you’re running late, just like you said you would be, and you tell her you’ll meet her at the school with it. In the stadium restroom. And you’ll have to get there right before the game starts. I’ll make sure Sally and Meredith are in there too, as a distraction you know.”

  “Even so,” I say reluctantly, “I wouldn’t even know how to do that to her uniform.”

  “No problem,” says Kendra suddenly. “You give me the alterations ticket and I’ll pick it up at the cleaners for you and do it myself. I’ll drop it by your house before the game, and then you can deliver the goods. Just make sure you call Jocelyn and tell her about running late and how you’ll need to meet her in the restroom in the stadium, since the girls’ locker room will be full of the other team’s players by then. You can do that, can’t you?” We’re standing by her car now, and her voice is getting a little impatient. Then she smiles. “Trust me, Reagan, this is going to be such a hoot. It’s something we’ll still be laughing about at our twentieth reunion.”

  I’m still not too sure about this. “What exactly are you going to do to her uniform anyway?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “Nothing that can’t be fixed. I promise. And if anything goes wrong with her uniform” — she holds up her right hand now, like she’s making a pledge — “I swear I will make it right and I will give Jocelyn my uniform.”

  I consider her promise. I think I can trust her on this. And it would actually be kind of nice if Kendra did give Jocelyn her uniform, since I have serious doubts whether the altered elephant-sized uniform will even look right. “Okay,” I say, slapping her still raised hand in a high five. “It’s a deal.”

  She throws her arms around me in a hug. “This is going to be so fun!”

  “See you at my house before the game then?” “I’ll be there around six thirty. Okay?”

  “Perfect.”

  This is my third visit to Nana in the nursing home, but it is just as sad and depressing as the first time. Even so, I try to put on my happy face. I try to pretend like th
is is such a great place, and aren’t the nurses nice, and I’ll bet dinner is going to be delicious. Yeah, right.

  Nana is not buying it. She is quieter than usual, just sitting there in her bed and staring toward the window. It’s like her spirit is broken, and seeing her like this makes me hurt deep inside.

  “Nana,” I say, taking her wrinkled old hand in mine, “if you can just get better, maybe you can come home.”

  She shakes her head. “No. Diane said no. I can’t go home.”

  “Mom said that?”

  She nods now, tears filling her eyes.

  “Well, I don’t think that’s right,” I say. “I’ll talk to Mom, Nana. I think if your pelvic bone heals up, you can come home. Even if we have to get someone to come take care of you, you need to come home, Nana.”

  This cheers her up a little, but I know I’m making a promise I may be powerless to keep. Still, I can’t imagine how Mom can be so coldhearted. Okay, maybe I can imagine it. But it’s wrong. It’s all wrong. And I plan to discuss it with her. And if it turns into a big fight, well, so be it. Of course, I won’t discuss it with her until after the barbecue tomorrow. No sense in messing that up.

  When Nana’s dinner comes, I tell her that I have to go. I explain about the football game and she actually seems to understand, like she remembers what football is, although it sounds like she thinks I’m a football player. I try to explain but then wonder why. Instead I kiss her and tell her to get well soon.

  “Have fun playing ball,” she says as I head for the door.

  I wave and tell her I will.

  When I’m out in the lobby, I first call Kendra to check on the status of her prank.

  “It’s going to be perfect,” she assures me. “I’ve got it all ready, and it’s still in the package and you cannot even tell it’s been tampered with. I am good!”

  “Or bad.”

  She laughs. “I’ll drop it by like I promised. Have you called Jocelyn yet to tell her to meet you at school?”

  “That’s what I’m about to do.”

  “This is going to be so fun.”

  I hang up, then call Jocelyn’s number. “Hey, I’m running late,” I tell her. “I’m still at the nursing home” — which is true — “and my grandmother’s had a hard time with her meals lately. I need to stick around while she eats dinner.” Okay, not so true.