Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
SERENA
A s we approach Whispering Grove, slowly driving up the winding gravel lane—its stately grounds forested with mature oak, maple, and yellow-poplar trees—I feel my throat constrict, and I lose the ability to breathe. It is beautiful. There is a serenity about the repurposed manor that seeps from every detail my eyes take in. From the soft babbling brook lined with willow trees that parallels the driveway, to the flower garden carefully maintained with seasonal blooms, to the carefully curated walking paths that crisscross the verdant lawn leading to little gazebos and benches settled in the cozy shade of the towering trees. From the quiet gasp Mom lets out from the back seat, I know she is equally taken by Whispering Grove’s calm beauty.
We park in front of the main building, which in its former life was an impressive mansion belonging to an early 1900s railroad baron. When the baron’s wife suffered from early onset dementia, he brought in the best doctors he could find and slowly his home transformed from just their home to a care facility for those unable to care for themselves.
Now the estate consists of the manor house, plus four other buildings with apartments that allow for independent living, an assisted living building for tenants who need more help, a community center, a greenhouse, walking trails, and of course the new state of the art memory care unit.
As we exit the car, the front door of the manor opens. A woman, in what appears to be an oversized hand knit sweater made of yarn scraps, steps out and waves at us in greeting. Her hair is a wild mass of curls floating around her head, and glasses dangle from a chain around her neck. Her smile is warm and inviting and seeing her genuine enthusiasm to meet us causes me to release the breath I had been holding.
“You must be Dominick, Serena and Laura. So lovely to meet you! I am Bethany, the director of Whispering Grove.” We each take turns shaking hands with Bethany, and I take a moment to take in her appearance. Her earrings are chunky, multicolored hoops that match her sweater. Her glasses are rainbow-colored, and her shoes are those god-awful holey foam shoes favored by chefs and nurses. Her style is eclectic, and I find it reassuring, knowing she isn’t some serious CEO in a pantsuit only driven by the bottom line. I open my mouth to greet her in return, but Dominick beats me to it.
“Nice to meet you, Bethany. I’m Dominick; I’m the one who called to set up the tour. We are here to see if this is a good fit for my mother-in-law, Laura.” Dominick waves a hand over at Mom. My mouth snaps shut as Dominick takes the lead and guides us to follow Bethany through the front door. Mom reaches out, taking my hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. I can tell by the look on her face that she is already fully on board with this place, and it feels like a vise is squeezing around my heart.
I find myself only half-listening to Bethany as she gives us the grand tour, guiding us across the impressive grounds and through the modern apartment buildings, while pointing out all the lovely homey touches like the greenhouse and gardens. Words like holistic combined with modern, cutting-edge memory research filter through the haze of thoughts I find myself lost in. Mom seems to be hanging on every word she says while Dominick asks pertinent questions, but I can’t seem to break free of the mental loop I’m in as I consider the future that lies before me now.
I’m picturing selling the house I grew up in. Imagining losing my last connection to my dad. No longer being neighbors with Kai or Mrs. G. Uprooting my whole life to move in with Dom. No longer needing to work two jobs to support Mom and myself. No longer coming home and seeing my mother every day and asking how her day was. It’s almost too much to bear, and I feel the tell-tale sting in the bridge of my nose from tears threatening to fall.
“What do you think, Kitten? It’s perfect, isn’t it?” Dominick’s low voice in my ear draws me out of my panicked thoughts, and I realize we are back in the front lobby, standing in front of Bethany’s office door. I don’t even remember half of what she told us or what we saw. I blink owlishly at Dominick, trying to come up with a response, but the best I can muster is a nod and a quiet, “It’s nice.”
“Shall we get the paperwork started? We tend to stay full, but you guys are in luck. We have a vacancy available right now, so we could have Laura move in as soon as you’re ready.” Bethany’s words finally snap me out of the trance I’ve been in during the entire tour.
“I don’t know…I think we should talk about it,” I hedge, glancing at Dominick for back-up. “It’s a big step, and we still have so much to do to get the house ready to sell. I’m not even sure if I am ready to sell it, and we need that money to afford this place.”
“If we don’t start the process now, it may be months or another year before another apartment opens. We have another tour booked this afternoon, and I can’t guarantee we can hold a spot for Laura. I can give you all a little time to talk it over, but I would recommend starting the paperwork before you leave. I’ll go wait in my office; you all come in when you’re ready.” Bethany gives me a reassuring smile before slipping through her office door, leaving us in the large echoey foyer.
I turn to Mom and take in her hopeful expression, and I know I’m the only holdout in the group. “It really is perfect, Serena. Did you see how cute those apartments are? And the neurologist they have on staff is one of the best in the country for his research in memory loss. I could take up gardening, make some friends, and you could finally be free to live your life, Sweet Pea.” Mom reaches up, cupping my cheek. She gently swipes away the tears that have started falling without my knowledge.
“But…I am free, Mom. My life isn’t a prison.”
“I know, sweetie, but you deserve more. You deserve to be a twenty-one-year-old who doesn’t have to arrange babysitters for her mom so she can go out on a date. You deserve to find a job you want to do, not just one you must do to make ends meet. You deserve to be young and have fun. To experience love and get married and have babies and make your own life, not just live to take care of me.” Now my mother’s eyes are shining with tears as well.
“But…Dad…” My lower lip trembles as my words get choked off by a sob.
“We will never forget your dad, Sweet Pea. He lives here”—Mom presses her hand against my heart—“and here.” She taps my temple gently. “He’s always with us, and nothing will ever take him away from us. I know it’s a big change, a scary change, but sometimes change is good.” We stare at one another for a long moment before I nod in resignation.
I hear Dom clear his throat, and I look over to see him gesturing to the partially open door leading into Bethany’s office. “Come on, Kitten. Let’s begin the next stage of our life together.” With one hand still clasped with Mom’s, I let Dom take my free hand, and we walk into the office together. The crushing weight of the wrongness of this decision is no less oppressive, but I soldier on, determined to do the right thing by Mom and let her make this choice for herself, no matter how much it hurts me.