Chapter Three
The show must go on.
—And Nannette “Nan” Wilder
Mallory pushed through the front door of Memory Oaks Nursing Care.
“Long time no see, Mal!” Francis Hemby called out from behind the front desk.
This was always how Francis greeted Mallory when Mallory stayed away for more than twenty-four hours. It was some sort of guilt trip that Mallory suspected Francis gave all the visitors when they’d gone without seeing their loved ones for too long. “Work has been busy,” Mallory said.
Francis nodded. “Everyone’s lives are busy, aren’t they?”
Mallory cleared her throat. Maybe other families used that as an excuse, but Mallory was busy because of Nan. All the extra hours were to keep Nan here. “How’s Nan today?” she asked, changing the subject.
Francis’s facial expression shifted. “Bright-eyed as usual. And her day is always better when she gets a visit from her favorite person.”
“Well, it depends on the day if I’m Nan’s favorite person or not.” And it depended on whether Nan remembered who Mallory even was.
Francis rolled her lips together, her expression sheepish from behind her thick-framed glasses. “Of course, you’re Nan’s favorite visitor. I just meant her favorite nonfamily member.”
“Oh.” Mallory realized that Francis wasn’t even referring to her. “Nan has another visitor?”
“Mm-hmm. Hollis is here with Duke. You know the folks here just love him and that dog,” Francis gushed.
Hollis had done what few ever achieved—changed his reputation in a small town.
Small town reputations were like granite headstones.
Once they were planted in the ground, they stayed put.
But somehow Hollis had gone from the rebellious bad boy that no parent wanted their daughters to even look at, to the big, lovable, burly teddy bear that every woman over the age of sixty pushed their single loved ones on.
Even Mallory’s paternal grandpa, Charlie, had made a bid for Mallory and Hollis to go out a few times.
She and Hollis were just friends though, and she was happy with that.
Once upon a time, she’d been one of those people who’d despised him but with good reason.
It wasn’t easy to like the guy who’d shown up to Mallory’s first starring moment at the Bloom Community Theater drunk as a skunk.
Hollis was supposed to be starring alongside her, which was Nan’s first mistake because, back then, Hollis wasn’t the stand-up, trustworthy guy he was now.
He hadn’t shown on opening night, which meant the understudy had taken his place.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, as Mallory made her first appearance onstage, Hollis burst into the audience, swaying on his feet and booing her.
He’d made people laugh, and he’d made Mallory cry, which wasn’t an easy thing to do.
Mallory could count on one hand the number of times she’d cried in front of someone, at least since being a kid.
One of those times was the evening she’d watched her mother leave her daughters’ luggage in their grandparents’ living room.
Then she’d hugged Mallory, kissed her temple, and said she was sorry.
“Funny thing is, Nan didn’t even like dogs before,” Mallory told Francis.
No explanation was needed for the word before at Memory Oaks.
Before memories faded for the residents here, leaving behind a fog of confusion and upset.
Before Alzheimer’s hit like a storm destroying everything in its path for the person affected and their loved ones.
“All I know is there is a special place in heaven for people like Hollis Franklin, volunteering his time and talent for the folks here,” Francis went on.
“Half the time our residents’ own family doesn’t come regularly, but that man is like clockwork every Friday night.
I wish I could say the same of my own husband,” Francis said.
“There’s nothing regular about him.” The corners of the older woman’s mouth quirked in a subtle frown.
TMI, Francis. “Interesting.” Mallory cleared her throat. “Well, hopefully Hollis is done visiting Nan. I don’t have long to stay.”
“I thought you were off-shift for the night,” Francis said.
“I am, but I have some work to do at the theater.”
“Before the big Christmas production?” Francis’s eyes lit up as she brought her hands together at her chest. “Oh, the play is always my favorite part of the holidays.”
Mallory’s stomach tightened. “That’s right.”
“Your grandmother would be so proud of you and Maddie. Some part of me worried you’d both be too busy to put on the community play.”
“It’s just me, actually,” Mallory told Francis. “Maddie is pursuing new things these days.”
“I’m happy for her,” Francis said with a nod. Then she looked at Mallory. “You have a busy life too, but look at you. You’re a good granddaughter,” Francis said. “Even if you missed the Thanksgiving dinner here the other night.”
Mallory’s lips parted, and no words came out.
“It’s fine. Our residents might be forgetful. But they still sense when something is missing.”
Something meaning “family.” Meaning Mallory specifically.
Maddie’s husband, Sam, could have gotten a day pass for Nan. He could have picked Nan up for the celebration at their house. Why hadn’t he?
“Well, perhaps you can join us for some of the Christmas festivities over the next month to make up for it.” Francis winked. “There’s even a holiday dance next week to kick the whole season off.”
“A dance?” Mallory repeated, looking at the flyer behind Francis’s head.
“Our recreational therapist, Nancy, plans so many fun activities for the residents. Your grandmother doesn’t feel quite as comfortable coming to the activities though. Sometimes it helps for family members to come by and go with them. It gives them confidence.”
“You’re talking about the dance?” a woman asked as she walked by.
Mallory turned to face Nancy, whom she’d already met on prior visits.
“It’ll be fun. We’re not trying to play matchmakers here at Memory Oaks, of course. Just trying to get the folks up and moving. Movement and laughter are good medicine.”
As a nurse, Mallory could attest to that. “I agree.”
“So, you’ll come?” Nancy asked.
“Thank you.” Mallory gestured down the hall. “I’m going to go check on Nan.”
“Of course.”
Mallory watched the tiled floor pass under her feet as she walked, hearing the sounds of patients inside their rooms. In some ways, being here reminded her of working at the hospital.
Some of the sounds were familiar, but also distinctly different.
Someone was crying somewhere, and Mallory knew it wasn’t because they were in pain, which would have been the case at the ER or even the pediatric floor, where she typically worked.
The cries here were emotional, mostly due to frustration and confusion.
Loneliness. Suddenly, a familiar holiday tune blended into the mix.
“Barely past Thanksgiving, and now we can’t escape Christmas tunes,” Mallory muttered before stopping a foot short of Hollis’s chest.
“Never pegged you as the Scrooge type.” He grinned ear to ear as he stepped out of Nan’s room with Duke on a leash.
“Hi.” Mallory had forgiven Hollis a long time ago for what had happened when she was fifteen. They’d returned to being good friends, and that was all Mallory wanted out of their relationship. Except sometimes, in a moment like this, when her guard was lowered, a wave of attraction rolled over her.
She wasn’t blind after all. What all the matchmakers said was true.
Hollis was handsome. Her kind of handsome.
Not the pretty boy, polished type. No. Hollis was solid.
He was tall, wide, and muscled. He also had twinkly eyes and the kind of stubbled jawline that made women want to lean in and rub cheeks. Or some women.
“How’s my grandmother?” Mallory gestured toward Nan’s door. “Looks like you visited her and your grandfather tonight.”
Hollis nodded. “She’s still got it.”
“Got what?” Mallory tilted her head.
“That spitfire meanness that puts me in my place with a single cut of her eye.”
“Yes, I know exactly what you mean.” Mallory checked the time on her Apple watch. “I better go on in. I can’t stay long tonight. I’m working on the theater. Doing a little cleaning out of things.” More like packing, but Mallory wasn’t ready to share her intentions for the theater.
Hollis nodded knowingly and shrugged his broad, quarterbackesque shoulders. “Big job. You’re doing that alone?”
Mallory nodded.
“Need help?” Hollis asked. “You know I don’t mind heavy lifting. I’m not busy this evening.”
She lowered her brows. The truth was that Mallory felt like she’d been doing everything alone lately.
Everyone was too wrapped up in their own lives, and years of therapy had taught Mallory that her MIA biological mother had left her with not only abandonment issues but also a hesitance to ask for help and an inability to trust people to follow through with their promises.
Mallory had long ago decided she’d rather be overwhelmed herself than disappointed in someone else.
“No, that’s okay. I actually don’t have much to do,” she lied.
Hollis’s expression revealed that he wasn’t buying it. “If you change your mind, let me know. I’ll just be at Pop’s place, working with the new dog, Buster.”
Mallory’s gaze flicked to the bandage on his leg, instinctively knowing exactly what he’d done. “You didn’t.”
Something vulnerable flashed in his brown eyes. “It wasn’t the dog’s fault.”
“You are unbelievable, Hollis Franklin. Well, I hope I won’t be dressing any more wounds.”
“I kind of enjoyed it. I thought we had a moment.” He winked in a completely platonic way. There was nothing flirtatious, but her heart still betrayed her with a subtle skip as she watched him continue down the hall. Catching her breath and returning to her senses, she turned back to Nan’s door.