Miriam and the nurse were talking, going over each piece of paper, each letter and card; but I was drifting further and further into my memory, sinking eagerly like one lowering himself into a warm bath. I pulled the images and the sounds around me and wore them as a blanket against the rain and the darkness. All of my senses hungered for the experiences. I had no idea how starved I was for Lillian’s touch, her little fingers in mine, the sound of her happy voice, her singing voice, the scent of her just washed hair, her laughter on warm afternoons when the lowering sun lifted cool shadows over us and draped us in contentment.
My reverie was broken by another sharp, close clap of thunder. Both Miriam and the nurse stood up quickly, almost as though they were linked. Miriam started out.
“Wait,” the nurse said, “take a candle.” She reached down and handed one to Miriam. “I’ll go with you,” she added and took the other candle as well.
“What is it?”
“Lillian’s calling,” Miriam said. “She’s afraid, just as I said she would be.”
As the two of them went out, taking the candlelight with them, the darkness closed in around me. The rain poured even harder. Lightning flashed with the regularity of a pulsating neon light for a few moments, and then there was heavy rolling thunder making the house shake. My revived memories of Lillian were still strong, and I could hear Miriam calling up to her as she and the nurse climbed the stairs. I wanted to go after them; I wanted to be there, but I didn’t move. I sat trembling like a baby.
When the heart of the storm moved off and the lightning and thunder diminished, the rain slowed. I could hear their voices above me. There was even some laughter. The nurse’s voice was heavy and firm. Miriam’s voice was light and filled with a mother’s tone of comfort. They laughed again and again. They were joking about the storm now. I even heard the nurse’s laugh. I sat back but listened hard. For a moment it was quiet and then ... then there was a distinct third laugh. I know it sounds crazy, but when I heard it, I felt as though lightning had come through the window. I couldn’t move. I sat there, terrified that I would hear it again. I was still like that after the nurse and Miriam came down and the lights came back on, but neither Miriam nor the nurse seemed to notice or care.
I thought Miriam had forgotten about the television set for Lillian. The nurse must have reminded her. Miriam’s memory was nothing like it had been. Just a few hours after she said something, she often forgot she had said it; but almost immediately after I awoke the next morning, she was standing there requesting the television set again.
First, I was surprised that she had gotten up and dressed before me. I couldn’t remember the last time she had done that. Her hair was brushed out, and she was wearing one of her brighter print dresses. She even had put on some lipstick. For a few moments, I didn’t hear a thing she said.
“Well, are you going to do it today, Michael?”
“Do what?”
“Put the TV set in Lillian’s room. What do you think I’ve been talking about?”
“Oh. Oh, yes, yes.”
“Maybe you can do it before breakfast, Michael. I’ll make you your favorite pancakes—buckwheat.”
The offer sounded more like a reward for doing what she wanted me to do. It wasn’t in Miriam’s nature to be like that. She wasn’t that sly and conniving. I looked around her, through the opened bedroom door.
“Where is Mrs. Randolph?” I asked, loud enough for anyone standing just outside to hear.
“She’s next door changing Lillian’s bedspread. She’ll be out in a moment and you can work. I’ll be downstairs if you need me for anything,” Miriam said. I just nodded and continued to stare. “Well, get up, Michael.”
“I am. I am.” I threw off the cover and sat up quickly to satisfy her.
“Really,” she said, “with all of us making such an effort, you’d think you’d be more energetic.” She turned and walked out quickly. I couldn’t believe her; I couldn’t believe the nurse had gotten her so worked up. And the whole thing with this television set .... It was ridiculous.
I got up and put on my robe. I could hear Mrs. Randolph working next door in Lillian’s room. I wasn’t keen on confronting her in that room, but I had to take advantage of the opportunity. Miriam had gone downstairs. I went to Lillian’s room and peered in. Mrs. Randolph had changed the bedspread and was now smoothing out the pillows.
“Excuse me.”
She looked back and then stood up straight. There wasn’t any smile in her face, nothing warm, nothing cordial. She looked annoyed that I interrupted her. Interrupted her from what? I thought. It wasn’t as though any of this had to be done.
“Yes?”
“This thing with the television set.”
“What ... thing?” She just had to be sarcastic about my choice of words.
“Bringing a set to this room and actually hooking it up.”
“What about it?”
“What about it?” I stepped further into the room. “Listen,” I said, “I accepted these other things you’ve done. I mean, I understood why you had to do them—this need to win Miriam’s confidence and all, but—”
“Well, thank you.” She folded her arms under her breasts and stiffened. “I’m so grateful that you’ve accepted them.”
“What I am trying to say is they made some sense, but—”
“Excuse me, but did you come in here to tell me you thought I was doing something that made no sense?”
“Well ...”
“Are you accusing me of stupidity?”
“No, it’s not that.”
“What do you call someone who does something that makes no sense?” Her shoulders seemed to rise. In fact, I felt as though she were expanding and I were shrinking.
“But bring a television set in here and get it so it actually works?”
“And what do you do when Miriam says, ’Lillian’s calling, go check on her’? Do you tell her it would be stupid to do so?”
“Of course not.”
“If you without any training do such things, don’t you think I should get the benefit of the doubt?”
“I just thought—”
“Since you’ve brought it up, Mr. Oberman, let me tell you that I don’t get the sense of cooperation you promised at the outset. I feel your critical eyes everywhere.”
“That’s not so.”
“Isn’t it? Right from the start, you questioned the things I was doing. Aren’t you interested in your wife making progress?”
“Of course.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No.”
“Then I insist you permit me to do my work the way I know it has to be done. Is there anything else?” I didn’t respond. “Then I would appreciate it if you would hook up the television set as Miriam asked you to.” She unfolded her arms and went back to smoothing out the pillows.
I shook my head and left. After I got dressed, I went into my father’s room and got the old Philco black and white. He had played it for years, only having to change a tube or two once in a while. I had to drill holes and string wire from the antenna into Lillian’s room. When I got there, the nurse was gone. The windows were still open, and everything looked neat and clean. There was even a new scent in the air, the scent of sweet lilacs.
I made sure the set worked and then went downstairs. I was very hungry by now, and the thought of buckwheat pancakes made my stomach churn in anticipation. Miriam and the nurse were seated at the table having coffee. They had been conversing in low tones and stopped the moment I appeared.
“It’s done,” I said.
“Good. What is she watching?”
“What?”
“What program is she watching, Michael?” Miriam asked. I looked at the nurse, but she was her usual expressionless self.
“Oh, I ... I turned the set off. She was sleeping,” I said quickly.
“She’ll be so excited when she wakes up, won’t she?” Miriam looked to Mrs. Randolph, who simply nodd
ed and continued to nibble on a piece of natural carrot cake, the brand with no artificial colors or flavors. I remembered that on her grocery list she had underlined “no.” I watched her and waited for her to wink or give me some sort of knowing expression, but she did nothing except stare ahead blankly and eat. So, I went to get myself a cup of coffee.
“I’m starving,” I said.
“The batter’s all ready. I’ll put it on the skillet,” Miriam said, getting up. I took the seat next to hers, just across the table from Mrs. Randolph.
“It’s been a long time since Miriam has made me pancakes,” I said. I didn’t want it to sound as though I were giving the nurse credit, but she had a very self-satisfied look on her face. She closed her eyes gently as she put the carrot cake into her mouth and chewed. I never saw anyone make eating look so sensuous. I began to wonder whether that cake was really that good.
“Mrs. Randolph thinks we might have mice, Michael.”
“Is that so?” I suppose I sounded skeptical. She stopped chewing and glared at me.
“There’s quite a racket in the closet and on the floor after I put my lights out,” she said.
“It would be terrible if there were any in Lillian’s room,” Miriam said.
“I’ll set some traps.”
“Maybe you should get a cat,” the nurse said.
“A cat can be more trouble than the mice,” I said. I reached over and broke off a piece of the cake.
“Mrs. Randolph says a pet might be good for Lillian.”
“What?” The outrage in my voice was undisguised. “Animals are out of the question.”
“I’m looking for ways to bring life back into this house, Mr. Oberman,” she said. There was no backoff in her. She couldn’t have said anything that struck more to the core either. Miriam came up beside me.
“She’s right, Michael.”
I felt them ganging up on me, and I had the feeling that it all had been discussed and decided before I arrived. There was something contrived about the way it had been brought up. It was as though the words had been planned out and rehearsed. I was indignant, but the nurse didn’t flinch, and Miriam stood there staring down at me, letting the pancakes sizzle.
“We’ll think about it.”
“I don’t want to suggest anything that will make you uncomfortable, Mr. Oberman.”
“Michael wouldn’t mind anything if it would help Lillian, would you, Michael?”
“Of course not, dear.” There was a terrible moment of silence. Even the pancakes seemed quieter. “If Mrs. Randolph thinks a pet will help, we’ll get a pet.”
“You see,” Miriam said turning back to the stove. “Michael is about the most wonderful man you could find. I’ve never met anyone more understanding. Maybe we should try to find a dog that looks like Dinky-Do.”
“Maybe. I’ll look for one,” I said quickly. I knew that meant I could take forever, but the nurse was thinking ahead of me.
“No,” Mrs. Randolph said. “From what you told me, her dog’s death was quite painful to her. Let’s not remind her of that one. Get a different kind.”
“That’s a very good point,” Miriam said. “Don’t you think so, Michael?”
“Yes, I do. But with Lillian so confined, maybe a pet wouldn’t do. Maybe it would be too much of a tease.”
“Or an inspiration,” Mrs. Randolph replied. She seemed to be enjoying my efforts to find a way out. “Everyone needs some inspiration,” she added, nodding ever so slightly toward Miriam.
Oh, I thought, now I know what she’s doing. Or at least I thought I knew. That was the first time since she had arrived that I believed she had taken me into her confidence. I finally felt that we were both handling Miriam and the nurse wasn’t treating me the same way she was treating Miriam.
“Well, then,” I said, “I’ll just take a ride over to the SPCA and see what’s available. It’ll have to be a small dog and preferably not too old.”
Miriam clapped her hands and then brought over the first serving of buckwheat pancakes.
“Isn’t this wonderful?” she said. “It’s like everything is beginning again.”
“Yes, dear,” I said. “It is.”
I was going to help clean up after breakfast, but Miriam didn’t want me to. Lately I had been doing most of that sort of work myself. Apparently, the nurse had been right: Miriam’s pride was stirred. Here she had gotten up early and made me my favorite breakfast. Now she was showing Mrs. Randolph that she could take care of these things herself. Once again I felt that I had underestimated the nurse and perhaps been too critical.
“That was delicious, dear,” I said.
“It was good,” Mrs. Randolph said.
“Thank you, Michael. You just go off to the SPCA now. I can’t wait to see Lillian’s face when we show her the new dog. I remembered how she was when your father got her Dinky-Do.
“OK,” I said. I waited a moment, hoping Mrs. Randolph would step out with me so I could discuss this in private, but she didn’t get up from her seat. I imagined that meant I was really supposed to go through with it.
When I stepped outside, I noted that the air was cool, an aftermath of last night’s thunderstorm and rain. I stood there debating whether or not I should go in to get a jacket. Even the most insignificant decisions had become so critical to me. I attributed this new tension and nervousness to the nurse’s arrival. I wanted so much for her to be effective and successful, but not at the expense of the little peace and tranquility I had. She had already initiated disturbing changes in the pattern of my life. Now, I was actually off to bring back a new pet! What the hell am I doing? I thought. Events were just carrying me along, and they were happening so fast I really didn’t have a chance to decide anything.
The front lawn looked ridiculous, half cut. I had gotten up this morning and actually worked for over an hour putting a television set in Lillian’s room. Now I was off to get a dog. I had to take a firmer stand in all this. Surely there were other ways to handle the situation. As I stood there arguing with myself, my immobility turned more and more into indignation. I would go back inside and demand that Mrs. Randolph come out to have another private conversation with me, even though I didn’t do so well with the conversation in Lillian’s room. I started to turn around to do just that when the television set in Lillian’s room was turned on.
The volume was loud enough so that the voices and music traveled through her opened window. I heard Miriam’s laughter and envisioned the happy and bright face she had worn just now in the kitchen. The quiet resignation, the childlike fragility that had been draped over her during these past months was gone. What if I went back inside and in my stupidity brought it all back?
I started down the steps, driven forward by the sound of a television commercial. I got into the car, started it up, and headed out past the front of the house. As I went by the front, I thought I saw Mrs. Randolph peering out of Lillian’s window. She looked satisfied; everything was going along just the way she wanted it.
4
* * *
“ALL I NEED IS FIVE MINUTES OF HIS TIME, MRS. Greenstreet,” I said. I was standing in a pay phone in front of a garage in Rock Hill. Just a half a mile more and I would be at the SPCA. “It’s important,” I added. Dr. Turner’s receptionist didn’t reply, but I heard the phone go onto hold. A good half minute later, Turner said hello.
“Sorry to bother you after such a short space of time.”
“What’s the problem?”
I told him about the television set and about the dog. He was quiet for a moment after, so I pressed him.
“Is it right for her to keep Miriam’s hopes up like this? I mean, Miriam’s going to expect a lot more than she’ll ever get.”
“I understand, but she’s going to have to help lead Miriam down a pretty hard road soon, and if there is no trust between them ... You did say Miriam’s disposition has improved?”
“Well ... yes. In many ways she’s back to being her old self. More
energy, less depression.”
“So then Mrs. Randolph must be doing something right. I assure you, she comes with the highest recommendations. I’ve seen her resume. She’s perfect for the case. Why don’t you just relax for a while and let things take their course. Call me in a week, OK?”
“For now I should be totally cooperative?”
“It would help a great deal.”
“Thank you,” I said. He hung up without saying goodbye.
At the animal shelter, I found a small dog that looked like a fox. They told me the animal wasn’t more than two years old. I thought it was docile enough, and I thought its color, golden brown, was attractive so I took it. I purchased a leash and a dog run. We still had Dinky-Do’s doghouse in the backyard, but there was no longer a run. I didn’t want the dog sleeping in the house at night, not even in Lillian’s room.
When I drove up to the house, Miriam came out to greet me. I imagined she was probably sitting at the front window in the living room watching the road. She was on the porch immediately and down the front steps before I came to a stop. I had the dog on the floor in the back of the car so she didn’t see him until I picked him up. She thought he was perfect.
“Does it have a name?”
“I don’t know. I forgot to ask.”
“It doesn’t matter. Lillian will want to give it her own name anyway. Come on, don’t you want to see how she reacts?”
I was about to ask where Mrs. Randolph was when I saw her standing just behind the screen door. Her white uniform revealed her in the shadows. Standing there and observing us so quietly, she seemed more like a presence. I felt intimidated, under glass as it were.
Tender Loving Care Page 6
