Chapter Six
Night shifts at the nursing home are quiet and almost eerie. We’re on a rotation, and about every three weeks, I’m the RN in the evenings. I do my rounds, waking residents who need meds during the night, checking those on oxygen, and making sure everyone is settled in and sleeping.
I step into Abigail’s room because I see her stirring when I walk by. She lies on her side, facing the wall, but when I walk to the other side of her bed, her eyes are wide open.
“Hey, Abigail.” I put my hand on her hip. “Is everything okay?”
“I can’t sleep,” she says.
I pull up a chair and turn on her table lamp. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Physically, yes,” Abigail says. “Mentally, I’m not doing great.”
“Well,” I say, “I’ve finished my rounds. Let’s talk. Maybe it will make your mind tired.”
“I’d like that,” she says. I help her sit up, and she leans against the wall behind her, pulling her covers up.
“I don’t know a lot about your family. I know you have two daughters, but I’d love to hear more.”
Abigail smiles. “My oldest daughter is Samantha. My youngest is Cara. Gosh, Birdie. I can’t remember the last time I saw them.”
“That must be really hard.”
“It is.” Abigail nods. “But it’s my fault. I don’t blame them.”
“Abigail,” I say, reaching for her hand, “that can’t be true.”
“It is,” she says. “Their father and I had them young. We’d only been married nine months when Samantha was born. And a year later, Cara came. I had all of these hopes and dreams of what I wanted our life to look like, and it couldn’t have been more different.”
Abigail closes her eyes and squeezes my hand. “I got attached to the taste of liquor. It became a sickness. I wanted to stop and be the mom who showed up for my kids, but instead, I was the mom who drank all day, missed concerts, plays, and ballgames. When the girls were teenagers, their dad finally left me and took Samantha and Cara with him.”
A tear falls down her face. “By the time I got my life together, the girls were grown, and they both have two kids each of their own, whom I’ve never met. I did a program, wrote them letters, and tried to make amends. Cara did write me back and told me not to contact her again. I never heard back from Samantha. I’ve been sober for thirty years, but all of it was too late. Those girls don’t have a positive memory of me, and I certainly don’t blame them for that.”
“That’s really hard, Abigail.”
She shakes her head. “I deserve to be alone. My choices brought me to this nursing home. I’m going to die on my own. That’s my fate. I have no one to blame but myself.”
I squeeze her hand. “All you can do is own your mistakes. But they don’t define you, Abigail. You deserve love.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Abigail says. She moves down and turns on her side. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” I say.
“I’m not scared of dying, but I don’t want to do it alone,” Abigail says. “When it’s my time, will you be by my side?”
“Oh, Abigail,” I say. “Of course. I’ll be right next to you, holding your hand. You’re not alone, okay?”
Abigail nods. I want to tell her that she’s got a lot of time left and not to think about this, but I don’t know if that’s true. Her health continues to decline, and I also can’t tell her that her daughters will forgive her in her last stage of life. Ever since being here, I’ve invited them to the monthly meetings, but I never hear back.
“Do you want to know about one of my best days?” Abigail says, her mouth turning up in a smile, and I nod.
“Samantha and Cara were young, and it was a hot summer night and their dad was traveling for work. In the middle of the night, I was woken up by the light outside. I peeked out the window, and it was the most vivid display of aurora borealis I’d ever seen. I woke the girls up and brought them to the yard, and we watched it together. It was the most perfect day.”
“It sounds great, Abigail.”
She grabs my hand and yawns. “Tell me about one of your most perfect days.”
“Hmm,” I say, but don’t have to think for long. “I was young. Maybe five or six. My grandma took me to the apple orchard on the ranch, and we picked apples. We didn’t think to bring a basket, so she put them in her apron skirt. We went inside, and she taught me how to bake a pie. When my grandpa and mom got home from work, we served it to them with ice cream on the side. We sat on the wrap-around porch, and I remember breathing the country air and feeling so happy.”
“That is a good day, Birdie.”
The next time I look up, Abigail is sleeping and breathing heavily through her mouth. I pull the covers up to her shoulders, turn off her lamp, and leave her.
By eight in the morning, I can’t quit yawning. I’m ready to pass the baton to the day nurse and go cuddle up in bed for a few hours before I do the same thing tonight. I work my way to the staff bathroom, splash water on my eyes, and redo my messy bun. My eyes are a little red, and my long hair is standing up in every direction. I put some water on that too and smooth it down.
I grab my personal things out of my locker. On my way out, I pass the cafeteria and smile when I see Sunny sitting with his group of friends, having their morning coffee.
“Sunny,” I say, walking over to him and putting my hand on his back.
“Birdie.” He smiles. “Are you just getting to work?”
“I’m actually leaving for the day. I worked an overnight.”
“I didn’t even see you creeping into my room,” he says.
I laugh. “You were sound asleep. I woke Sis up around two to give her meds, and she went right back to sleep.”
“Hey there, Walt, Juan, Lawson. It’s great to see you guys here.”
“We thought we’d come here for coffee and maybe a card game,” Walt says. “It’s supposed to rain all day.”
“The farmers are happy,” Juan says. “But not the fishermen.”
No resident in the nursing home has as many visitors as Sunny. And these men are some of my favorites. They try to make things as normal as possible for Sunny, which is needed because living in a nursing home is a tough adjustment for anyone, but especially for someone like Sunny, who doesn’t need to be here.
Liam rounds the corner, holding a box of donuts. He looks at Sunny and doesn’t see me initially. He holds them up.
“Hey, guys. I brought donuts for the card game.”
Liam’s smile is so big that I can hardly believe it’s him. I’ve never seen any emotion from him except brooding.
“Wow,” I say, and Liam’s face spins in my direction. “The man smiles. I had no idea you had it in you.”
Walt puts his hand on his knee and shakes as he laughs.
“Birdie’s not wrong,” Sunny says. “You’ve been a little serious since getting to town. I know circumstances are tough, but you’re starting to bring us down.”
“I’ve been here for less than two weeks, Grandpa.” Liam puts the box down on the table and pulls up a chair.
“For two weeks, you’ve been acting like your dog died,” Juan says.
“Agreed,” I say, arms folded over my chest. “Did your dog die?”
Sunny and Walt laugh.
Liam glances at me. “Why are you part of this conversation? The boys and I are going to have coffee, donuts, and play cards.”
Sunny puts his hand on mine. “Birdie is the best thing that’s happened to this nursing home. You could try to be a little warmer toward her.”
Liam rolls his eyes at me.
“You’re new to town, Liam. So is Birdie. You two could relate to each other,” Walt says. He bites into his donut, and jelly runs down his chin.
“I’m not planning on staying long,” Liam says. “So no point in getting to know people.”
“You could at least be nice,” Sunny says.
“Yes.” I grab a napkin and put a donut on it. “You keep reminding us that you’re leaving. You don’t have to worry. None of us will forget.”
I turn my attention toward Sunny and his friends. “Well, boys, I’m coming off a twelve-hour shift, so I’m going to go home and get some sleep.”
I’m almost to the door when Liam’s voice calls out.
“Are you still walking everywhere?”
I nod. “The exercise has been great. See you tonight, Sunny.”
“I like her,” one of the men says as I punch in the code to leave. I can’t tell who said it, but I smile.