Pupcakes

by Annie England Noblin

  “Dr. Sower is coming up,” the receptionist said, finally hanging up the phone. “You can have a seat if you want.”

  Brydie knitted her brows together. “Why? What’s wrong? Is Mrs. Neumann sick?”

  “Dr. Sower will be right out,” was all she said.

  Brydie led Teddy away from the desk and sat down on one of the couches facing the courtyard. It was a lovely day, and not too chilly out. The yard was littered with orderlies and the elderly, some of them walking around and many more sitting in chairs and drinking up the sunshine. She strained her eyes to see if maybe Pauline was among those outside, but Brydie couldn’t find her anywhere. She hardly noticed when Dr. Sower came and sat down next to her.

  “Brydie?”

  Brydie jumped a little, accidentally jerking on Teddy’s leash. He made an annoyed gurgling sound. She reached down to pet him and said, “I’m sorry, Doctor. I guess I didn’t hear you sit down.”

  “Oh, it’s all right,” Dr. Sower replied, enticing Teddy to come over to her for head pats. “I’m sorry that nobody called you.”

  “What’s wrong?” Brydie asked, feeling panic rise in her throat. “Is Mrs. Neumann okay? I was looking for her outside, but I don’t see her anywhere.”

  “She had an episode last night.”

  “An episode?”

  Dr. Sower nodded. “She had some trouble breathing. We had to give her oxygen. She was very scared and had to be sedated. She’s still resting, and we’ve not yet been able to take her off the oxygen. I’m afraid it may be something she will need long term.”

  “Can I see her?” Brydie asked. The thought of Mrs. Neumann in her room, scared and alone, was enough to make her want to cry.

  “Not today,” the doctor replied. “She needs her rest.”

  “But Teddy makes her so happy,” Brydie protested. “She looks forward to these visits.”

  “I know she does,” Dr. Sower said. She cast an empathetic gaze at Brydie. “But even if she were awake, and she’s not, she would be very groggy. I doubt she could enjoy much of anything right now.”

  “Why didn’t anybody call me?”

  Dr. Sower sat back, placing her hands across her middle, lacing her fingers through each other. “Mrs. Neumann has given us permission to share limited medical information with you,” she said. “But we are not obligated to call you every time an issue arises. You aren’t family.”

  Brydie didn’t respond. She knew she wasn’t family. She was hardly even Pauline Neumann’s friend. She was the woman’s dog sitter. She was her house sitter. She was just the person staying in her house and taking care of her dog until . . . until what? Until the old woman died? The thought gave Brydie pause. “I’m sorry,” she said at last. “I wasn’t trying to be rude. I know you aren’t obligated to call me. I just wish you had, that’s all.”

  Dr. Sower patted Brydie’s arm. “I’ll make you a deal—I’ll call you if there is a problem that I think requires you to be here, if you’ll trust us to make that decision.”

  “Okay,” Brydie replied. “And you think she’s going to be okay?”

  “I do,” the doctor said, and then added, “with a little more rest.”

  Brydie nodded and stood up. “Oh wait,” she said, tugging at the purse on her shoulder. She pulled out a bag of treats. “I made these for you. Well, for your dog.”

  Dr. Sower’s eyes lit up. “Oh thank you! Rufus and Oliver will be so pleased!”

  “I’ll bring more next week if Mrs. Neumann is up to visitors.”

  “I’m sure she will be.”

  Brydie gripped Teddy’s leash and tugged gently. “Come on, buddy.”

  Teddy stood up and started down toward the hallway, where Mrs. Neumann’s room was located.

  “No,” Brydie said.

  A whimper escaped Teddy’s throat, his body rigid. He didn’t move.

  “He knows we’re here to see her,” Brydie said, feeling helpless. She bent down in front of him and put her forehead to his. “Please could we see her? Just for a few minutes? I have these blankets she wanted from the house. I’d really like to give them to her personally.”

  Dr. Sower sighed. “Okay, but just for a few minutes. I’m serious.”

  “I promise we’ll be quick.”

  Brydie’s excitement faded when she saw the woman lying in bed in front of them. She was wrapped in several blankets with one of her feet sticking out. Brydie could see the pale blue of the veins in her leg just above her sock. Pauline was pale, so pale, and there were tubes going up each one of her nostrils, attached to an oxygen machine just to the side of her.

  When Brydie reached down to undo Teddy’s leash, the nurse in the room put her hand out and said, “He can be in here, but don’t let him jump up on her, okay?”

  “Okay,” Brydie said. “Can he sit next to her on the bed?”

  “Of course,” Pauline said before the nurse had a chance to respond. “Lift him up here.”

  Brydie picked him up, ignoring the nurse’s pursed lips. “Be sweet now,” she said to him.

  Teddy gave Pauline’s hand a lick and then settled down next to her on the bed, seemingly aware that his master was out of sorts. Pauline patted him on the head and then turned her attention to Brydie. “You two are a sight for sore eyes, let me tell you.”

  “I brought you the blankets you asked for.” Brydie tried to smile, forcing the corners of her mouth to turn up. Pauline’s eyes did look sore. Everything about her looked sore. “How are you feeling?”

  Pauline put her fist to her chest and rapped a few times. “The old ticker is still going, so I suppose I’ll live.

  “I woke up yesterday feeling right as rain,” Pauline continued. “And then, for some reason, I just couldn’t breathe. Been hooked up to one of these tank thingamajigs ever since.” She jabbed her thumb in the direction of the oxygen.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Pauline replied. “It’s just one of the many perks of getting old.”

  Brydie appreciated Pauline’s lighthearted tone. She knew she was putting on a brave face for her and Teddy, but the woman’s watery, blue eyes told another story. She was tired, and Brydie thought maybe just a little scared. “Thanksgiving is on Thursday,” she said. “I thought I might be able to bring you over some Thanksgiving dinner and you could have a visit with Teddy.”

  “I sure wouldn’t say no to that,” Pauline replied. “We’ll have dinner here, but I can’t imagine it could be better than anything you could whip up.” Her hand went down to Teddy’s head. “And you know I’m always happy to see my Teddy.”

  “Good,” Brydie replied, clapping her hands together. “Then it’s settled.”

  “Oh, and bring some of those treats you brought for Dr. Sower last week. She’s been raving about them ever since.”

  Brydie grinned. “I will!”

  “Dr. Sower is wonderful,” Pauline continued. “But I think we all miss Dr. Reid when he’s away.” She paused to give Brydie a not-so-subtle wink. “Have you seen him lately?”

  Brydie cleared her throat and stole a glance over at the nurse who was still inside Pauline’s room. She didn’t want to say anything in front of her. The last thing Brydie wanted was for a rumor about her and Nathan to get around the nursing home, around the hospital, and, most likely, around to Nathan. “I’ve seen him around the neighborhood,” she said as casually as possible.

  “On purpose?”

  “We had coffee at the dog park once.”

  Now the nurse was paying attention. She’d turned so that her whole body was facing them, as she pretended to study the oxygen tank.

  “Well, that’s promising!” Pauline replied, clapping her hands together. “You should invite him for Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “I’ll think about that,” Brydie replied, still feeling the nurse’s eyes on her.

  “I’ve had some wonderful Thanksgivings,” Pauline said. “Many of them right there in that house you’re living in.”

  Brydie realize
d that she’d invited a whole bunch of people over for Thanksgiving dinner without even thinking about or asking permission from the house’s actual owner. She winced at the thought. “Would you mind if I cooked a Thanksgiving dinner there . . . at your house?”

  “Child, where else would you cook it?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t ask earlier.”

  “As long as you don’t burn the kitchen down,” Pauline replied, “I certainly don’t mind.”

  “I’ve set a stove on fire,” Brydie admitted. “But I’ve never burned a kitchen down.”

  “Well, that makes one of us.”

  “You burned down a kitchen?”

  “Honey,” Pauline said, the twinkle returning to her eyes, “I burned down a house.”

  By now, the nurse had pulled up a chair and was sitting right next to Brydie, no longer able to pretend like she wasn’t listening to their conversation. “You burned down a house?” she squeaked.

  Pauline nodded. “It was 1963, and it was my first Thanksgiving with Bill,” she said.

  “Who’s Bill?” the nurse asked.

  “Her third husband,” Brydie replied before Pauline had a chance to answer.

  “Yes, my third husband,” Pauline echoed. “We’d just moved into this adorable little house across the street from his parents. His mother, Fredna, wanted to have Thanksgiving dinner at her house, but I insisted we have it at ours. I wanted to prove to her that I could cook a meal and feed my husband and his family.”

  “But instead you burned down the kitchen?” Brydie asked.

  “Shhh . . . let her finish,” the nurse said, putting her finger to her lips.

  “I wanted to prove that I was a good wife,” Pauline continued. “I’d had two failed marriages before this, mind you, and Mrs. Fredna Campbell was not at all thrilled that her only son had gone off and married a tainted woman.” Pauline gave the women a mischievous half smile. “But the truth was that I couldn’t boil water, and God love Bill, he knew it. All that week he was trying to convince me not to be in charge of Thanksgiving dinner, but I was bound and determined. I’ve always been a little headstrong, you know?”

  “Oh, I know, Mrs. Neumann,” the nurse said. “I’ve never had anyone fight me on that oxygen like you did last week.”

  “Imagine that my mother-in-law was just that much more stubborn,” Pauline replied. “She came over that day ready to be disappointed, but I’d cooked a beautiful dinner, and for the first time since I’d known this woman, and I’d known her my whole life, she was paying me compliments. My head got so big that I forgot about the pot of green beans on the stove. I didn’t realize it until the whole house started to smell and the kitchen was going up in flames. It didn’t take long before the whole house was ablaze. That little house was a tinderbox.”

  “Good Lord,” the nurse gasped.

  “We lost everything,” Pauline said. “Bill and I lost everything we owned in that fire, and all Fredna could holler about was how she left her brand-new mink coat. It was an anniversary gift from Bob, her husband. It was pastel, the fashion of the time, and quite costly. She told me right there on the spot that I’d be buying her a new fur.”

  “Did you?” Brydie asked.

  “Of course not,” Pauline replied. “I hated that thing, and she’d worn it over to my house only to taunt me. Even back then I knew that wearing the skin of other animals was ghastly, and I told her so every chance I got.”

  “So what happened?” the nurse asked. “After the fire?”

  “We moved in with my parents for a while,” Pauline replied. “And then we lived with Bill’s parents. That next summer we started building our own house outside of town, and then before we knew it, I was . . .” Pauline trailed off.

  “You were what?” Brydie asked.

  Pauline looked away from the women sitting beside her. In a voice so low that it was barely a whisper, she said, “I’m tired.” She closed her eyes.

  As if on cue, the nurse stood up and dragged the chair she’d been sitting in back to the other side of the room. “Mrs. Neumann needs to rest now,” she said. “I think it’s probably best if you and the dog leave.”

  “Is she okay?” Brydie asked. “Did we say something that upset her?”

  The nurse picked Teddy up from the bed and set him down on the floor, busying herself with Mrs. Neumann’s blankets. “She just gets worn out easily,” the nurse replied. “She talked more to us today than she’s talked in over a week—well, probably since the last time you visited.”

  “Okay,” Brydie said. She clipped Teddy’s leash to his harness. She didn’t want to leave. Selfishly, she wanted to push the older woman for more information, to make her tell her about what happened with her marriage. Was the man in the pictures she found Bill? What was in the trunk? What happened with Bill? Did he cheat on her with another woman the way Allan had done? Did he just come home one day and tell her that he didn’t love her anymore? Brydie desperately wanted to know the answers.

  Brydie peeked over at Pauline. Her eyes were still closed, and if she was still awake, Brydie couldn’t tell. She watched the ragged rise and fall of the woman’s chest for a few seconds until, realizing she was no longer welcome, she set down the blankets, picked up Teddy Roosevelt and left the nursing home.

  CHAPTER 28

  BRYDIE HAD NEVER SEEN SHOPCO SO BUSY, ESPECIALLY AT night. It was late Wednesday night, almost Thanksgiving Day, and people were rushing around the store, grabbing and snatching at things as if it were the zombie apocalypse and only frozen turkeys and boxed stuffing could save them from the advancing horde. She hoped that there would still be something left for her to buy once her shift ended.

  On Monday, Brydie had bought the turkey and the ingredients for her favorite homemade stuffing recipe. But she’d waited on the fresh fruits and vegetables. Now she was wondering if that was a mistake.

  “Don’t worry,” Rosa said to her, snapping the plastic lid shut over a dozen cupcakes with turkeys on them. “There will be enough for everyone. They always keep a little in the back for the employees.”

  “That makes me feel better,” Brydie replied. “So far, there are seven people coming to dinner, not including myself. I haven’t cooked a meal for that many people in a long time.”

  “Do you need some help?”

  “Really?” Brydie asked.

  “Of course,” Rosa replied. “Lillian and I would love to help with the dinner.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Brydie replied, feeling a flood of relief wash over her.

  “Lillian and I made a cherry pie and a fruit-and-yogurt parfait this afternoon before work. We’ll bring that over with us, and then you can put us to work doing whatever it is that you’d like us to do.”

  Without even thinking about it, Brydie reached out and hugged Rosa. “Thank you so much.”

  “Oh honey, it’s our pleasure,” Rosa said. She stroked Brydie’s head. “Now, we better get back to work before Joe comes in and sees us showing affection for one another. He really hates hugging.”

  Brydie giggled. “That really doesn’t surprise me.”

  “It’s one of the reasons he and Lillian get along,” Rosa replied. “Don’t get me wrong, Lillian is affectionate in her own way, but it’s a way that she and Joe seem to understand about one another.” She grinned at Brydie. “I’m a hugger. I’m glad to have another one in the mix.”

  Brydie felt her phone buzz in her pocket. It was the third time that night, and every time she pulled it out to see who it was, it was the same person—her mother. She’d been avoiding talking to her since she’d found out about Allan and Cassandra, afraid her mother would offer up more information that would send her into a tailspin. She’d kept their conversations short, and she’d relegated their content to talk of the real estate business or baking sweet treats for the dogs of the neighborhood. Now she was starting to worry that something was wrong. Her mother knew she’d be at work at this time of night.

  “Do you care if I go ahead
and take a break a little early?” Brydie asked Rosa. “My mom keeps calling me, and I’m worried that maybe there’s been an accident or something.”

  “Sure thing,” Rosa replied. “Take your time.”

  Brydie pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed her mother’s number as she walked back to the break room. When her mother answered, she said, “Mom? Is everything okay? You’ve called me three times, and I’m worried.”

  “What?” her mother asked. “No, everything is fine!”

  Brydie pulled her phone down from her ear and stared at it, willing herself not to just hang up. “So there’s no emergency? Why did you call me three times in a row when you know I’m at work?”

  “Well, there’s no reason to be crabby about it,” her mother replied. “I just wanted to see what time you’d be here for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow.”

  “When did we talk about me coming home for Thanksgiving?”

  “We didn’t. I just assumed you would.”

  “Why would you assume that?”

  “Because you’re my daughter, and you’ve spent the last thirty-three Thanksgivings at my house.”

  Brydie sighed. This conversation wasn’t getting them anywhere. “I’m not coming home, Mom. I work until tomorrow morning, and then I’m cooking dinner up here for some friends.”

  “For that doctor?” Ruth Benson asked.

  “He’ll be there, yes.”

  “Perfect!” her mother said, practically cackling with delight. “What time should Roger and I be there?”

  “Who’s Roger?” Brydie asked. “And what do you mean what time should you be here?”

  “Since you can’t come to me, I’ll come to you, of course.”

  Brydie didn’t know what to say. Her mother hadn’t even mentioned Thanksgiving until now. She knew why, of course—so that Brydie didn’t have time to think of an excuse, a reason why mother and daughter shouldn’t be reunited for the holiday.

  “We’ll eat around six.”

  “Lovely!” her mother exclaimed. “Roger will be so happy to be invited.”