Chapter 27 Nola
NOLA
“Are you on the phone with Max?” Emma looks over my shoulder to see his face on my screen. “Why aren’t you two talking?”
She’s right, of course, but I’ll have the last laugh when everything digital crashes and I still turn up at the dentist on time thanks to my trusty system.
With summer a handful of weeks away and so many possibilities on the horizon, I’ve agreed to Callie’s suggestion (for now) and have been tediously going back and forth between the two calendars.
“Hi, kid,” Max says. “I called a minute ago and your mom needed to concentrate and finish transferring the week she’s been working on, so I’m on hold.”
“She’s so old,” Emma laughs like she’s given me a major burn.
“I know!” Max agrees and my lips lift despite their ganging up against me. I input the book’s notes for the last Friday of that month and close my laptop for the time being.
“I’m back.” I look at him and pretend to push Emma out of the way.
“Hey! That’s not very nice.” She leans back into the frame. “Max, you get in soon, right?”
“Yeah, I’m getting ready to board my plane in a few.”
“Tomorrow we’re doing a running day at school. I signed up to do three miles. Want to come watch?”
“What is this torture you are participating in?”
“It’s a fundraiser.” I slide into the conversation. “All the students are participating in the run-a-thon to raise money for new laptops. They can be paid per lap, per mile, or a flat rate for their participation. Em set a goal to run three miles.”
Emma’s face lights up. “Mom said she’ll pay me thirty dollars if I complete all three miles. Cool, huh?”
“That’s awesome.” Max replies. “What time is it at?”
“Fifth grade is going out at eleven,” Emma says.
“I’ll stop by and cheer you on—for sure. Should I bring the foam finger?”
She giggles.
He pretends to think about something and then says, “Why don’t you put me down for a hundred bucks?”
“Wow! Thanks! I’m going to go call Reese and tell her that I’m bringing in the most money. She’ll flip. Her parents only gave her twenty dollars and I’m getting one hundred and thirty between you two.” She’s off before either of us can respond.
“I’m going to have to deal with that later,” I say.
“Did those two have a fight?” His brow furrows.
“No, but they’re super competitive because they like to keep my life interesting.”
He sighs and smiles at me. “Well, I miss you and can’t wait to see you.”
“You’re getting sappy.” I can’t imagine a day where him telling me he misses me, loves me, can’t wait to see me will get old. It makes my heart skip a beat every time.
Max puts a finger to his lips. “Don’t let my sisters know.”
“I would never.” I confessed to reaching out to them after his concussion and he loved that I was willing to do so to help him.
Since that day, there’s been a sister’s thread that includes me.
While it’s not super active, they’ll occasionally send pictures of their daily life, which is so much cooler than mine.
An incoming call from White Pine Assisted Living Center flashes across my screen. “Max, I gotta go but I’ll see you soon, okay? Love you.”
There’s no sense in worrying him before I know what’s going on, and he can’t do anything while he’s in the air anyway. He doesn’t need that stress while flying. I’m still the point of contact for the next two hours until he’s in Idaho, and I exit our video chat to answer.
“Mrs. Adler-Hutchings?” a woman says in way of a greeting.
“Yes, this is Nola.”
“This is Laurie from White Pine. I’m afraid Stella’s having one of her episodes and I’m following the protocol set by the Hutchings Family to let somebody know when it’s gone on for more than fifteen minutes.
” She’s apologetic but unfrazzled by whatever behavior Stella is dishing at them.
A professional who’s probably seen it all, unfortunately.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Thank you for letting me know.” I hang up and call Belle. It goes straight to voicemail. I try Mom next. She agrees to hang with Emma now and pick up Max from the airport when he arrives.
I pace the living room while I wait for her to arrive. Emma walks in and asks, “Is Stella going to be okay? I heard you talking to Nana.”
“Yeah, she’s confused today and once Nana gets here, I need to try to help Stella.”
“Just go. I’m fine by myself for ten minutes. I’m in the middle of watching The Princess Bride again, and I won’t move from that spot on the couch.” She points to her corner. I blow out a deep breath and give up a little more control; Emma is trustworthy. A few minutes alone won’t hurt her.
When I get to the care center, I hear Stella before I see her. She’s in the dining hall, yelling at the staff over the wrong glassware on the tables.
“I’ve told you I want the green ribbed glass goblets set for the party tonight. How is this so hard to understand?” Stella’s standing next to the table, hands on her hips, chin up, her flamingo pink kaftan flowing around her.
Opal sits calmly at the offending table and recites what she’s probably said a dozen times already as staff look on, “Stella, honey, the dinner party got moved to next week. However, tonight they’re serving chicken fried steak, and I’d like to eat dinner. Why don’t you sit and join me?”
Opal’s gaze leaves Stella for mine, and she lifts her brow, which I take as an acknowledgment of solidarity.
Max would know what to do right now. He’d walk up to her and gently take her hands and call her Grandma.
We’ve lucked out in the last few months that she hasn’t had an episode.
The downside is I haven’t had to figure out if my presence will upset her more or bring her back to reality. It was only a matter of time.
A woman I recognize from earlier visits puts a hand on my shoulder.
“I’m grateful you came. She’s been very concerned about a garden party she’s throwing tonight and we can’t place what’s going on in her mind.
Opal said Stella used to throw big parties in her backyard for all occasions—today’s date doesn’t ring as significant to Opal, so we’re at a loss.
However, we’ll need to try to get her back to her room soon, though, so other residents can have dinner. ”
I walk around the dining hall, making sure I come at Stella instead of surprising her from behind.
“Hello.” I offer her a bright smile and watch her not register knowing me.
“I wonder if the glasses you want are down the hall. Should we go check? Somebody dropped the ball and I understand why you’re frustrated. ”
“They’re impossible to work with here,” she tells me, waving off the poor staff who’ve been riding this wave with her for the better part of an hour.
“Sure, and you just want what you want. I get that. Let me help you out, okay?”
She thinks about this for a second and must decide I pass the test because she agrees. “I have twenty-four in a beautiful green. They’re individually wrapped in butcher paper after every washing.”
“Let’s go find them. I bet they’re lovely,” I tell her and lead her out into the hallway.
“They are, dear. Nicholas found them at Robinson’s in Los Angeles—you know, that department store, don’t you?”
I nod because that feels like the right move, since I just watched Opal give in to the reality Stella’s living in her mind.
“He did a plumbing job for them and knew I’d love them the minute he saw them. He bought every one of them in stock and brought them back to Palm Springs for me.”
“You’re very lucky. Your husband sounds like a great man.” We make our way down the hall.
Stella stops. “He isn’t great. He’s the very best. You’d be so lucky to find somebody like him.”
I think to myself, if only you knew, Stella.
Opal follows, and once we close Stella’s door, she springs to action. She guides Stella to an old leather armchair, closes the curtains, and turns on “You’ve Got It.” Roy Orbison’s voice fills the room while Stella closes her eyes, letting the song wash over her.
“Under the sink there are vases. Pull them out, please,” Opal instructs.
She brings a folding table out of Stella’s room and props it up, motioning for me to set the vases on top.
Going back into Stella’s room, she emerges with another table, then a few folding chairs, which she sets around the tables.
The door cracks open and the activities director peeks her head in.
“We’re ready for those,” Opal says quietly, and the woman enters with an armful of fresh flowers. She leaves them next to the vases and lets herself out.
Whatever is taking place is a well-oiled machine they’ve done before.
Many times. How did Max and I never talk about this?
I mean, Emma had major colic as a baby and there was only one way she could be held through those screaming spells to offer her any kind of relief.
I can’t imagine having left her in the care of somebody and not giving them that information.
I get things had been staying steady for Stella before he went to spring training, but this is one of those nuggets of helpful information he should’ve passed along.
I remind myself just as fast that I’m at fault for not asking what to do and take a deep breath. He’ll be here in a few hours to teach me. It’s not worth getting upset about—it’s not like I’m failing Stella or Opal right now. I’m here and ready to help.
The song starts again as Opal guides me through separating the stems and then trimming them. Once that is done, she sits back. Stella’s swaying to the music in her chair, ribbed glass goblets no longer in the forefront of her mind.