Chapter Seven #2
Isabel turned away, and Jovi trailed her across the lobby. Lush, green plants filled every nook and corner. A beautiful arrangement of fresh flowers adorned a coffee table situated between two sofas. Their wet boots squeaked on the linoleum as they approached a woman sitting in a rocking chair.
Jovi’s breath caught. Her grandmother’s hands, frail now, clutched the arms of the rocker.
A pink striped blouse layered under a purple cardigan reminded Jovi of a similar outfit Grammie often wore.
Maybe it was the same one? She’d draped a beautiful multicolored quilt over her lower body.
The trademark voluminous curls were absent.
Instead, Grammie’s hair had been trimmed short in a pixie cut that would be super fun to style.
Jovi made a note to bring gel next time.
Maybe Grammie would let her do a mini spa day.
“Grammie.” Isabel stopped beside the chair and sank to the floor in front of her. “It’s me, Isabel. How are you?”
Grammie’s lips curved downward into a frown, and her eyes, once so vibrant and full of life, skittered between Isabel and Jovi.
Jovi spotted an empty folding chair nearby and pulled it closer. “Hi, Grammie. So nice to see you again. I’ve missed you.”
Grammie tightened her grip on the arms of the chair. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said, her voice a tentative warble.
Ouch. How could Grammie not know them? Jovi settled her purse next to her boots and forced her mouth into a smile. “It’s me, Jovi.”
Grammie’s expression hardened. “Are you here to talk to me about my taxes? Because I’m afraid I can’t help you. My husband and son handled all of that.”
Oh, dear. Jovi and Isabel exchanged worried glances.
“Grammie, we’re your granddaughters. Your son’s children.” Isabel reached out and ran her fingers across one corner of the quilt. “We stopped by to say hello.”
Glaring, Grammie pulled her feet out of reach like she’d been pinched. “Please don’t touch my quilt.”
“I’m so sorry.” Isabel’s hands trembled as she fisted them in her lap. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. My friend Lois made it for me.”
The mention of Lois snared Jovi’s curiosity. “Were you and Lois pretty good friends?”
Grammie looked at her like she’d sprouted a third eye. “The best. I’ve known her for years.”
Jovi hesitated. Lois’s passing didn’t seem to be a detail her grandmother was aware of right now.
It would be cruel to mention it, right? She’d always been instructed to converse with dementia patients, rather than argue with them over the accuracy of details.
“What kind of things do you and Lois like to do together?”
“Oh, we love to bake. She makes the best candy. During the holidays, you know, our treats are the talk of the town.” Grammie chuckled, a familiar sound that wound around Jovi’s heart.
“Indeed.” Jovi nodded. “Your candies and cookies are legendary.”
Grammie’s smile faded, and she shot Jovi a suspicious glance.
Undeterred, Jovi pressed on. “Do you know any recipes by heart? Like maybe your salted caramel chews?”
Grammie harrumphed as she plucked a tissue from her cardigan pocket. “I don’t give away my recipes to anyone, least of all strangers.”
“Right. I understand.”
“Like I said, if you’re here to talk about the taxes, you’ve got the wrong gal. My husband or my son will be home from work this evening, so you’ll have to come back later.”
Jovi stood and gently tugged her sister to her feet. “Of course. We’ll visit again soon. Come on, Isabel. We need to go.”
“But it hasn’t even been twenty minutes,” Isabel whispered.
“We don’t want to upset her. She doesn’t know who we are.” Jovi gave Grammie one last smile, but Grammie turned her head away, rocking gently, twisting the tissue between her gnarled fingers.
They crossed the lobby, waving at Gretchen as they passed her desk. Together, they made their way outside.
“That was awful.” Isabel fished a pack of tissues out of her purse. “How can she not know her own grandchildren?”
Jovi’s phone hummed inside her jacket pocket. “We tried. That’s what matters.”
“I just can’t believe she’s losing her mind.” Isabel dabbed at her tears. “She’s barely been sick a day in her life. Why dementia? And why her?”
“If only I knew.” Jovi pulled her phone out. A text from Mason filled a bubble on the screen.
Please don’t leave Grammie’s place yet. I have a surprise. See you in a few.
Did he expect her to stall? Jovi bit her lip and snuck a glance at her sister.
Isabel’s eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?”
Thankfully, the rumble of a car approaching saved her from answering.
“Is that Mason’s car?” Isabel shoved the tissues back in her purse, then strode to the edge of the sidewalk. Exhaust floated into the air as the dark blue sedan slowed to a stop in front of them. The driver’s-side door opened, and Mason stepped out.
“Mason,” Isabel said, “what are you doing here?”
He flashed a sheepish grin. “My boss sent me to exchange a part we need for one of the loaders. When you said you were going to be in town today, I thought I’d surprise you. I’ve already made reservations for our date. How was your visit?”
Scowling, Isabel shouldered her purse. “It was terrible. She thought we were accountants or something, and she fussed at me when I touched her.”
Mason’s smile evaporated. “That’s tough. I’m so sorry.”
“But now we know what to expect, right?” Jovi gently nudged Isabel’s shoulder with her own, infusing her voice with optimism she didn’t quite feel.
His gaze swung to meet Jovi’s. “Would you mind if I whisked Isabel away for the weekend? We could use some time alone.”
Isabel stiffened. “I thought you had to pick up a part?”
The doubt in her tone made Jovi cringe. Uncertainty flickered across Mason’s features.
Before Isabel crushed him with her excuses, Jovi looped her arm through her sister’s and steered her toward the vehicle’s passenger side.
“What a thoughtful guy you have. He’s taking date night to the next level, right?
Go on. Enjoy yourselves. I’ll drive your car back to Evergreen. ”
Isabel wrenched her arm free. “But what about—”
“Babe, I’ve thought of everything. Packed your bags, cleared your calendar and made all the arrangements.” Mason opened her door with a gallant flourish. “You don’t have to plan a thing. And I’ll deliver the part when we get back to Evergreen.”
“Oh, that is so sweet.” Jovi pressed firmly on her sister’s back and guided her into the car. “Can’t wait to hear all about it.”
Mason closed the door as Isabel voiced another concern. Blowing out a long breath, he closed his eyes for a second.
Her heart pinched. Poor thing. “She’s not going to make this easy for you.”
Mason opened his eyes. Something that looked like sadness flickered there. Then it was gone. He reached out and gently squeezed her arm. “Thank you for your help.”
“Anytime.”
After they drove out of sight, Jovi turned and trudged across the parking lot to Isabel’s car.
She had to get back to Evergreen and get ready to start work at the hospital.
Envy seeped in. It sure would be nice to have someone to plan an extravagant date.
Instead, she’d been dumped by her fiancé.
Isabel didn’t appreciate how good she had it with Mason.
Thoughts of Burke spooled through her head.
“Ha! Not happening.” She kicked a small chunk of ice in her path.
Darby Jane was a cutie, but her father? A total grump with a ton of baggage.
Not to mention, their families had a turbulent history.
Besides, she hadn’t come back to Evergreen to fall in love.
The last thing she needed was a man in her life.
* * *
“Daddy, I’m full.” Darby Jane pushed away her plate loaded with an unfinished Belgian waffle and then slumped against the booth’s buttery vinyl cushion.
Burke hesitated, awkwardly lifting a fork full of omelet to his lips.
Eating while wearing a cast was more of a challenge than he’d expected.
And they’d waited forty-five minutes for this table.
A mistake he’d not make again. Evidently, half the town showed up at Trailside on Saturday mornings.
“You’ve hardly eaten anything, love. How about a few more bites? ”
She usually gobbled up any kind of sweet breakfast. Besides, her meal easily cost him eighteen bucks, including her orange juice and the side of bacon. It would be nice if it didn’t go to waste.
Darby Jane shook her head. “Can’t.”
Their server stopped at their table, a carafe of coffee in hand. “Would you like a refill?”
“Please.” He nudged the mug toward the edge of the table.
Steam curled from the mug as she slowly topped it up. Hovering, she eyed the little girl. “What’s wrong, sugar? I thought you’d love that waffle.”
“My tummy is real sad.” Darby Jane’s chin wobbled.
Oh, no. Burke pinched his mouth shut to stifle a groan. Please, not the stomach flu.
“Do you have a fever?” The woman pressed her palm to Darby Jane’s forehead, then gave Burke a look. “Don’t mean to be in your business, sir, but she feels a little warm.”
He surveyed his daughter’s flushed cheeks and glassy eyes.
Now that he studied her, she didn’t look well.
How had he missed the usual signs? Setting his fork down, he dabbed his mouth with his napkin and looked up at the server.
“Thank you for letting me know. We’ll be on our way home in a few minutes. ”
“I’ll bring your check right over.” She offered a kind smile. “I’m Connie, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Connie. I’m Burke, and this is Darby Jane.” He fumbled for his wallet. “We’ll take two boxes, please.”
“Sure thing.” She moved on to the next table.