Chapter 2
Aliena
Last July
“Look who was sent fresh flowers again!” I say
enthusiastically as I step into the room of my favorite resident, 85-year-old Rosie Henderson.
The old lady perks up in her chair and beams at me, stretching out her hands for the lovely bouquet I bought. I hand it to her, and she takes a deep whiff and sighs. “My lovely son. You know, he’s so busy he can never visit but he never fails to send me these once a month,” she tells me like she does every month.
Maybe it’s wrong of me to lie to her, but in the five years of working here, I learned to take some liberties when it comes to bringing these lovely seniors some joy. After a year of Rosie’s arrival, during which I always had to disappoint her whenever she asked if her son called about a visit, I started buying her flowers and told her they were from him. That was six months ago, and her mental presence has been looking up ever since.
“That’s very nice of him. They’re beautiful,” I agree with her as I move on to tidy her room. It’s very spacious, only the best for the residents since the price sure demands as much.
When I was told what the yearly fee for a residency at Bloomfield Living Care costs, I nearly choked on my tongue. Let’s just say, sixteen-year-old me never heard of such expenses.
The room’s equipped with a desk usually decorated with my flowers, a comfortable bed with some bedside drawers, a tv, and a closet. Adjoint with the bedroom is a small bathroom. In my opinion, the best part of this room is the window looking out into the big yard of the nursing home. A few people are out, playing cards or checkers at one of the tables in the shade to enjoy the July weather. I open the window for Rosie.
“Thank you, dear. Oh, while you’re back there, could you please hand me the glass of water from my bedside table?” she asks. I comply in a beat, smiling as I give her the glass only to feel something inside me twist at the sight of the woman’s shaky hands.
It’s nothing new and almost none of the residents here have a steady hand anymore. Still, it’s hard not to notice the little things when I know Rosie probably won’t make it into the next year. Cancer doesn’t spread quickly at that age but it’s vicious, nonetheless.
A soft knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. Rosie looks at me expectantly and I smile at her, trying to hide my confusion and surprise. In all her time here, she’s never had a visitor. What if her son suddenly decided to show up? I just hope he won’t expose my little flower scam.
I open the door and come face to face with a young man that’s certainly not Rosie’s son. He looks around my age and fits right in with the classy, expensive interior of the nursing home with his white button-down and his clean-shaven face.
Damn, he’s handsome. So much so that, for a second, I forget my manners and just stare at those sharp cheekbones and dark eyes. Finally, I shake myself and speak with a burning face. “Hello, Sir. How can I help you?” I ask him.
“Hi, I’m Sebastian Henderson. I’m here to visit my grandmother,” he tells me with a polite smile. I can feel my brows rise but step out of the way, knowing that he wouldn’t be here unless the receptionist checked his identity.
“Rosie, won’t you look at that? Your grandson came around for a visit,” I tell her, taking the glass of water away again.
The woman beams wider than ever before. “My Sebastian! Oh, today is full of surprises. First, your father sends me flowers, and now this,” she gets up from her chair with some struggle and throws her arms around the young man.
He hugs her back, but his eyes lock on mine and he mouths, “ Flowers ?” I just shake my head. Maybe I’ll explain it later, maybe he won’t care enough to ask in private, but I certainly won’t risk Rosie overhearing my confession.
When they end their embrace, Sebastian helps her sit back down on the cushioned chair. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit sooner, grandma. I didn’t know you were transferred and couldn’t find you,” he excuses and while I don’t understand what he means by that, Rosie just nods and pats his cheek affectionately.
“Don’t you worry about it, boy. I am happy you are here now. Besides, Aliena here kept me perfectly good company. Isn’t that so, my dear? I even taught her to play Cribbage. Between the two of us, she isn’t that great at it yet. No match for you,” she tries to whisper the last part, but I am very much able to make the words out.
Her grandson’s eyes flick to mine and he gives me a big smile quite similar to Rosie’s. “Give her some time. Chinese poker is no easy feat and I had years to learn from the master,” he tells her. Again, something twists in my stomach at the reminder that she won’t have enough time to teach me well at all.
I wonder how much he knows about her condition. If he hasn’t seen her in one and a half years, he’s way out of the loop. I’ll have to pull him to the side and give him all the news before he leaves.
I scan the room one more time before piping up, “Okay, I think my job here is done. I’ll give you two some privacy. Mr. Henderson, why don’t you ask for me at the reception on your way out? Until then, enjoy your visit. I’ll see you at dinnertime, Rosie.”
I start heading to the door, but gentle, long fingers wrap around my wrist and I turn back around. “By all means, I don’t want to be the reason you miss your Cribbage lessons. Stay, please. I can watch and maybe throw in a tip or two. Oh, and call me Sebastian,” he says. He looks sincere in his offer and since Rosie is nodding enthusiastically and our time together is my favorite time of the day, I agree.
“Okay, sure. Let’s all witness another ice-cold defeat of mine. Your grandma is ruthless,” I tell the young man. He tips his head back and laughs, the sound like honey to a sore throat. Meanwhile, Rosie watches us with a new glint in her eyes .
“Okay, I think I’ve lost enough for the day,” I announce after five games of Cribbage because, despite Sebastian’s occasional tips, I didn’t stand a chance against the old lady. I feel like I did even worse today than usual.
In my defense, the low rumble of Sebastian’s barely contained laughter did little to help my focus and whenever he’d lean in closer to whisper something in my ear, I nearly dropped my cards altogether.
"I can’t blame you. You really are having a bad day, Sweetheart. Are you feeling all right? Your face is glowing red,” Rosie remarks, drawing attention to what I know is nothing more than a silly blush. Sebastian comes around the table now to look at me too, a smile on his lips and his satisfaction clear in his eyes.
“Yes, Aliena, your face is a little flushed. Do you maybe want to get some fresh air?” he teases me just innocently enough for his grandmother not to notice. It’s then that I realize that he did this on purpose, all those fleeting brushes of his fingers against my arm and so on. He was flirting.
“Oh, I think that’s a good idea. Sebastian, accompany her, will you? To make sure she is okay,” his grandmother adds. To my dismay, she proceeds to wink at me. My face burns even hotter and the only reason why I don’t disagree is that I have to talk to the young man in private anyway. And maybe because the idea of being alone with him for a minute or two excites me just slightly.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Here I am, acting like some shy maiden when I am anything but. My habits as a partygoer are proof enough of that. I don’t remember there ever having been a time when I blushed because of a guy. Maybe the innocence of this whole meeting does it for me. It’s something new .
“Lead the way,” Sebastian tells me, holding the door open for me. Great, I didn’t even realize I zoned out. Here’s a cute guy and I suddenly stumble over myself like an idiot.
I take a few short, hurried steps to catch up with him and walk through the door, muttering, “thanks,” under my breath. I start walking toward the closest exit without looking back to make sure he is behind me, keeping my eyes on the floor as I try to gather my wits. The talk the two of us are about to have is anything but funny or light-hearted, so there is no space for me to be so unprofessional.
I’m looking for the right words to start when his hand is suddenly pressed softly against my lower back. I nearly miss a step with how fast my head whirls in his direction. He smiles comfortingly.
“Sorry, didn’t know how else to get you to stop running. Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yes. Sorry, this is the first time Rosie has had a visitor and I’m not sure where to start catching you up,” I tell him and watch as his smile dims ever so slightly. He knows what I’m building up to and he isn’t surprised.
“I know. The flowers, by the way? I know for a fact that my father didn’t send them, so thank you.” His eyes are sincere, his tone earnest, and I can almost feel the gratitude coming from him. He must really love his grandmother. It makes me want to tell him even less.
“She was just so sad that her son never came to visit, and I couldn’t stand it,” I admit, feeling my cheeks heat again. I quickly change the subject. “You said you hadn’t known she was transferred? May I ask what you meant by that?”
His face turns sour and his hand leaves my body to rub against his other. “My father thought I wasted my time with all the visits I paid her at her last nursing home so he moved her and wouldn’t tell me where to. I had to scour every nursing home in and near Hartford. I can’t believe it took me this long.” He blows out a breath. “How’s she doing?”
I keep leading him down the corridor until we finally reach the door to the yard. Once we’re outside, I slow down and turn to look at the man. “She is happy. Mentally, she’s doing very well other than some minor short-term memory lapses. She has a few friends here and her spirits are always high.” I take a quick break and hesitate.
“And what about her body?” he asks when I take too long to go on.
I shake my head a little. This is the worst part about this job. Sure, some of the time, we have doctors to give the really bad news to loved ones but most of the time, we nurses have to do it. “She’s had cancer for many years now. Her body is growing weak, and she doesn’t like taking her medicine. We can’t force her, and your father hasn’t given us any specific orders so her condition has been worsening.” I swallow the lump in my throat and force the last words out. “It’s likely she won’t make it into the next year.”
Five months. I just told him he has no more time than that with his grandmother.
Sebastian runs a hand through his hair and nods to himself, his eyes a little unfocused on the ground. “Okay. Well, thanks for telling me. And for being here for her. I’m glad she wasn’t alone.” When his gaze meets mine, I can see they’ve become glossy. He clears his throat. “I’ll be right back with you, okay? Would you mind getting back to her?”
I’ve always been good at taking hints. “Sure, take your time.” I give him my best smile and lay my hand on his arm for a second. When he returns the small smile, I force myself to turn around and return to my favorite senior, trying to lift my spirits on the short way.