Despite the protests of the nursing staff at Elmbrook, Claire insisted on driving herself to the hospital where Nana had been taken. Deanne Waverly thrust a scrap of paper bearing a crude, hastily drawn map into her hand and Claire ran to the parking lot.
Fortunately, the hospital was only a short distance away, and rush hour traffic had peaked an hour earlier. Claire parked the car illegally along the circle drive of the hospital’s main visitors’ entrance and ran inside the building.
There she was directed to the third floor, where a young nurse showed her to a small waiting room and assured her they would let her know the minute there was any news.
Claire had been there only a short time when a doctor appeared in the waiting room. His silver hair and sun-crinkled face gave him a venerable air. His eyes were kind and searching and Claire trusted him immediately.
“Miss Anderson?”
“Yes.” Claire jumped up from the shabby upholstered chair and stood silently in front of him.
“Katherine Anderson is your grandmother?”
“Yes. Is she going to be okay?”
He gestured toward the row of chairs along the wall in the dimly lit room. “Please, sit down.”
She did as he asked.
After they were seated, he extended a hand and introduced himself. “I’m Dr. Graham.”
She nodded wordlessly.
“We still have several tests to run, but all the preliminaries indicate that your grandmother has had a stroke.”
He looked at her as though to assess her reaction to the news. Claire nodded weakly to show that she understood and he continued.
“She is conscious and breathing on her own now, but we will want to watch her closely over the next twenty-four hours or so. I’m concerned that we’re having trouble getting her blood pressure stabilized, but that is certainly not unusual in the case of a stroke.” Dr. Graham put a large, warm hand over hers. “If you wait for twenty or thirty minutes, you can go in to the ICU to see your grandmother for a short while.”
Claire kept watch at her grandmother’s bedside for the next hours, scarcely taking a moment to stretch her muscles or use the ladies’ room. She did step outside of the ICU long enough to call Becky in Hanover Falls to explain what had happened and to ask her to pray for Nana and to pass the news on to Millie Overman.
Nana’s condition had improved markedly by the following evening. She'd been moved out of the ICU and was sitting up in bed and able to swallow a few clear liquids. Though her speech was slurred and she was very weak, she was able to make herself understood. It was clear that she knew where she was and what had happened. To Claire’s great relief, her grandmother did not seem to be confused or disoriented.
Dr. Graham stopped by the hospital room that evening and, after examining Mrs. Anderson, motioned for Claire to step into the hallway with him.
“Your grandmother is a strong woman, Miss Anderson,” he told her. “I think it’s safe to say that given time, she will recover from this episode. However, she is going to require around-the-clock care. I don’t know exactly what your situation is, but I think it would be wise—and in the best interest of both you and your grandmother—to try to get her settled in a nursing facility a bit closer to where you live. That’s Hanover Falls, right?”
Claire nodded.
“Are you familiar with the facility there? Riverside, I believe.”
“Riverview,” Claire corrected him. “Yes, I know it well. It would be wonderful to have Nana there. How would I go about making those arrangements:”
Dr. Graham gave Claire information on how to expedite the transfer and told her that he would approve Katherine Anderson’s release from the hospital as early as the following afternoon.
“Of course, there may be a wait to get into Riverview. I hate to move her any more than necessary, but ordinarily the insurance won’t cover a longer stay in hospital,” he continued. “If there is a waiting list at Riverview, she could go back to Elmbrook. I assume they are holding her room there.”
When Dr. Graham left, Claire called Riverview to find out if there was an opening available. When she told the receptionist why she was calling, she was transferred directly to the administration office. Claire was surprised and a little disconcerted to hear Michael’s voice.
“Michael Meredith here. How can I help you?”
“Michael, this is Claire. Claire Anderson.”
“Claire. Hello.” It was difficult to read his voice. Uncertain, perhaps. Curious, understandably.
“I’m in Kansas City with my grandmother, Michael. She . . . she’s had a stroke.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Claire. Will she be all right?” The concern in his voice warmed her.
“She’s doing better each day, but the doctor says she will need to be in nursing care…”
“And you want her closer to home?”
“Yes. Are there any openings there right now?”
“There will be within the week. Our social worker is on another line right now, but I’ll explain things briefly and then transfer you when that line is free. Mrs. Janzen can help get you set up for the evaluations.”
The conversation became very businesslike as Michael explained the procedure for admission. She was disappointed to realize that it might be two weeks or longer before the move could actually take place. But Michael—and later, the social worker—assured her that it was in her grandmother’s best interests that the thorough screening process be followed. This would provide individualized care for all her needs: physical therapy, nursing care, speech therapy, and any number of other services that might help her to regain as much independence as possible.
It was enlightening for Claire to see Michael in the new light of his professional side. He was extremely sympathetic and helpful, seeming to understand that Claire had no idea what was involved in making this type of arrangement and explaining everything in terms she could easily understand. The social worker was equally helpful, and Claire hung up feeling encouraged about her grandmother’s situation and about the way her conversation with Michael had gone. It was a small light in the darkness of her grandmother’s illness to have had a positive conversation with Michael.
She spent the next afternoon making the necessary phone calls, signing the papers releasing her grandmother from the hospital, and arranging for skilled nursing care back at Elmbrook until the admission to Riverview was approved.
Claire stayed in Kansas City for two more days, making certain that Nana’s condition was stable and that the transfer back to Elmbrook went smoothly. She then made arrangements for Nana’s furniture and other belongings at Elmbrook to be shipped to Hanover Falls.
After explaining to her grandmother the arrangements she'd made, Claire drove to her temporary apartment one last time and loaded her belongings into her car. She went to the office and settled with the landlord, growing ever more eager to be heading back home.
She drove into a quiet Hanover Falls while the afternoon sun was still high in the sky. Though Claire had been away scarcely two weeks, summer had engraved its changes on the face of the village she’d left seemingly a lifetime ago. She drove through the familiar streets and realized with utter contentment that she was home. Especially now that Nana was on the mend and would soon be living nearby, she, who had always struggled for a sense of belonging, had truly found a home in this little town nestled in the Ozarks.
She pulled onto the narrow driveway of the house on Brookside Drive and parked the car near the back door. Millie’s four-o’clocks were just opening up, and the pungent citrus scent of geranium leaves drifted to her on the slight breeze. The grass was tall, and here and there a dandelion threatened to invade, but the potted flowers she'd hastily set out before leaving were beginning to overspill their pots and seemed well cared for. The flagstone patio desperately needed sweeping and the cracks were filled with tiny weeds, but it all seemed to her an inviting challenge.
She stretched her arms over her head and br
eathed deeply, then set about unpacking the car. As she reached the back door with her first load, Smokey sauntered around the corner of the house, meowing loudly.
“Smokey!” She set her burden of boxes and bags on the patio and stooped to pet him. He was fat and sleek, and he’d been rolling in the dirt under the lilac bush. She brushed the worst of the dust and debris from his fur.
“You silly old cat. Can’t you find another place to play? Did you miss me, boy?”
He purred loudly in reply and leaned deeper into her fingernails as she scratched under his chin.
She unlocked the back door and set the things she'd been carrying on the kitchen floor. The house was warm and the air smelled stale. She walked through the kitchen to the living room. The drapes were drawn and the room was dark. The furniture was covered with a fine layer of dust, but like the weedy patio, the dust seemed a friendly demand for her attention.
Feeling renewed, she hurried back through the kitchen to finish unloading the car. Smokey trotted back and forth with her as she carried in the rest of her boxes and bags. The large cat threatened to send her sprawling as he rubbed against her legs, purring and meowing as though to scold her for abandoning him. She groused at him good-naturedly and left him in the garage after the last box had been brought in. Tonight she would let him sleep on her bed and get his fill of pampering, but until then, she had work to do and she didn’t need any interference. If she hurried, she could be settled in before she went to bed.
Two weeks later Claire borrowed Becky’s van and a wheelchair and made the trip to Elmbrook to move Nana to Riverview. The prospect of taking charge of her grandmother’s fragile health for the journey was daunting, but Nana’s insurance did not make provision for the transfer, and Claire’s own resources were depleted after the expense of staying in Kansas City.
Though it was exhausting for Katherine Anderson, the trip proved uneventful. Claire helped her grandmother settle into the room at Riverview, and by week’s end she was satisfied that the move had been a wise one.
Nana seemed to have weathered the trip from Kansas City well and was slowly adjusting to her new surroundings. Her belongings had arrived safely from Elmbrook, and Claire moved a few of her things into the room at Riverview. This room was smaller and more hospital-like, so it was difficult to make it seem homey and cozy like the apartment in Elmbrook had been. But Claire added some personal touches, making the best of the situation.
As she was able, the older woman began to receive more extensive physical therapy, and Claire thought she could see her grandmother improve almost daily.
As the days went by, Claire fell into a routine, spending the mornings—when Nana was fresh and alert—at Riverview, and the afternoons working on her lawn and flowers. By mid-summer, however, there was little left to do in the yard besides the weekly mowing and watering, and again, Claire found herself with too much time on her hands.
While visiting Nana one morning, she noticed an advertisement posted on the hallway bulletin board asking for volunteers to read to residents whose eyesight no longer allowed them to read for themselves. Claire was immediately drawn to the idea. It would be a way to fill her time productively and to give something back to the place where Nana was being cared for with such devotion. Besides, she loved to read, and here would be an opportunity to share that joy with someone else, as well as strike another title or two from her “must-read” list. She decided to inquire about it that very morning and stopped at the front desk, where she was directed to the personnel office.
Lana Welbourne, the Director of Human Resources, told her that the volunteer program was just getting off the ground, but if Claire was willing, she could unofficially begin her service the next day.
“In fact,” Ms. Welbourne told her, laughing, “we have a gentleman who would drag you down to read to him this instant if he knew you were in my office. His name is Robert Tripleton,” she explained. “He’s a temporary resident in our respite care program—a rather unconventional resident, I might add. He’s recovering from a serious car accident. He very nearly lost his sight and recently had a second surgery on both his eyes. Unfortunately, the surgery wasn’t as successful as they hoped, so he is here until he regains his health and hopefully his eyesight. I’m afraid Mr. Tripleton is going crazy with boredom. He says the books-on-tape we’ve recommended are ‘totally unsatisfactory—too impersonal.’” The woman lowered her voice, apparently attempting to imitate Mr. Tripleton’s tone. “And he can’t abide the television. He was a college professor,” she added, as though that explained his loathing for television. “I’m sure he would be delighted if I could tell him you’ll read for him tomorrow.”
“If I can read to suit him, I’d be glad to,” Claire told the woman with only partly feigned apprehension. “What time should I come?”
“You’re volunteering, Miss Anderson—may I call you Claire?”
“Of course.”
“Then, Claire, you tell me what time. As long as it’s not too early in the morning or too late at night, the man will simply be grateful you’ve come at all.”
They agreed that Claire would meet Mr. Tripleton the following day at four and decide how to proceed from there. Claire left Ms. Welbourne’s office with a feeling of satisfaction and anticipation.
Chapter 25
See you tomorrow, Nana.” Claire leaned down and kissed the proffered cheek, then glanced at her watch. “Oh, goodness. It’s nearly four now. I don’t want to be late my first day!”
“Go then, dearie.” Nana shooed Claire away with an awkward wave of her hand. Katherine Anderson was sitting up in a chair near her bed and looking very well, in Claire’s estimation.
Claire had come to Riverview today with a double sense of purpose. Nana needed her less and less as she improved each day, and Claire was anxious to begin her volunteer work reading to residents of the manor. Afraid she would be late, and not wanting to make a bad impression her first day, she hurried down the hall, quickly deciphering the cryptic signs at each hallway intersection.
Robert Tripleton lived on the north wing and Claire, now more familiar with the layout of Riverview, hurried around a corner. As she did so, she nearly collided with Michael Meredith. They both laughed nervously and he stepped aside.
“I’m sorry,” Claire blushed. “I must have been exceeding the speed limit.”
He held out his hands in surrender. “Then I plead guilty as well.” Then, with concern in his voice, he asked, “How is your grandmother getting along, Claire?”
She had been in Michael’s office twice since Nana moved to Riverview, signing one paper or another, and their encounters had, by unspoken agreement, been polite, if rather formal. Their near collision now seemed to have lightened the mood, and Claire felt more comfortable in his presence than she had in a long time.
Sensing his genuine interest, she told him, “I just came from Nana’s room. She’s doing remarkably well, thank you. The physical therapy has made a tremendous difference.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Their eyes locked and for a few seconds they were silent. Suddenly looking uneasy, he glanced at his watch. “Well, it was nice to run into you . . . quite literally.”
She laughed. “You too.”
He started down the hallway, but feeling unaccountably brave, she called after him.
“Michael?”
He turned, his expression open and curious.
She took a step toward him, suddenly overwhelmed again by the way he made her feel. Her heart raced and she felt her palms grow clammy, but she'd started this and she wasn’t about to back out now.
“Michael, I… I wonder if you’d like to meet Nana? Sometime. Not right away of course, but—” She cut her sentence off, longing for a sense of how he was receiving this invitation. She'd been thinking about the possibility ever since Nana had been moved to Riverview.
Now his eyes held hers with a warmth she remembered from their first meeting. “I’d like that, Claire. I’d like that ver
y much.” He hesitated. “Does she know . . . who I am?”
Claire shook her head. “I haven’t told her yet. She knew about us—” Claire swallowed hard. She hadn’t counted on the memories this invitation would evoke. “She knew about us before, but I haven’t told her that you were Joseph. I always meant to tell her, but after the stroke, I… I was afraid it would be too much.”
“I understand. I know you have her best interests at heart. I would like to meet her, Claire.”
“I think she’s strong enough to know the truth now,” she told him, even as she realized that it was she who was finally strong enough. “I want a chance to tell her everything before you meet her.”
“Whatever you think is best. Let me know when you think the time is right.”
“I will. And thank you, Michael.” The lump that had formed in her throat threatened to choke her. It was so good to be standing here talking with him again. So good to be able to refer to their past without accusations and tears. Maybe this was the closure she'd longed for. No, not a closure, she realized. Instead, a promising beginning to a new bond of friendship with Michael. It was still difficult to be in his presence without stirring up the old feelings. But she knew it wasn’t right to feel so awkward and uncertain every time they ran into each other. Christian love surely allowed them to be on friendly terms. She wanted to do her part to permit that to happen.
Michael looked at his watch again. Smiling warmly, he made excuses. “Well, I’m going to be late for a meeting if I don’t get going. I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”
“Yes.” As she watched him hurry down the hallway, an old, unwelcome sensation tugged at her insides. Why did he have to be so handsome? Why did his gentle ways have to melt her heart so?
Mentally chiding herself, she turned on her heel and directed her attention to finding Robert Tripleton’s room. She slowed her pace, checking the number on each room, nervously smoothing a hand over her hair and straightening her clothing as she approached the door.
Nearly Page 20
