Chapter Seven
The town is buzzing with activity because it’s Wheaton Days. Most of the residents are getting so many visitors, and moods are lighter because of it. Abigail hasn’t had any, so I’ve tried to spend some extra time with her. We are short-staffed but can’t afford to hire more people. I’ve quit keeping track of how many hours I’m working each week because I don’t want to stress my mom out, but my schedule isn’t sustainable.
“Can I get a ride home when you’re done working?” Joe approaches me with his walker.
“Joe,” I say, “you live here. You know I can’t give you a ride.”
“I hate it here.” He tries to open the door, and I pull him back. “The food is horrible, and half the residents sleep in their wheelchairs all day.”
I sit next to him. “How can I help make this a better place for you?”
“You could take me home,” he says. “I miss the farm. Call Betty and tell her I’m ready to leave.”
“You know I can’t do that. This is your home. Do you have any other ideas?”
“We could do more activities around here,” he says. “Not all of us are at the shitting-in-our-diapers stage, you know?”
“Joe.” I hold a hand over my mouth to cover my smile. “More activities are a good idea. Let me talk to some of the staff, and we’ll come up with a plan.”
“Fine,” he says, diverting his attention toward the TV. “And if you could turn on something new for once, that would be great.”
I grab the remote from behind the desk and turn on a baseball game.
“There.” I pat his leg. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
Joe has dementia, although he’s still fairly high functioning. But he also had a stroke a couple of years ago and is a fall risk. There was no way he could live independently anymore. His wife Betty was going to die taking care of him. She comes every morning and then again for dinner. Multiple times a day, he asks me to leave.
My phone rings in my pocket, and it’s Will, one of the other RNs, calling.
“Hey, Will,” I say.
“Where are you?”
“Leaving the lobby,” I say. “Why? What’s up?”
“There’s a Larry Bergland here, and he’d like to speak to you if you have time. We’re at the South Desk.”
One of Sunny and Sis’s sons. I’ve never met him in person, but he intimidates me plenty over the phone.
“I’ll be there in two minutes.”
I turn the corner, and Larry stands at the desk with Liam. Liam has his hands stuffed in his pockets and is looking down at the floor. Larry is taller than I was expecting. He’s about the same height as Liam, only broader.
“Hi, Mr. Bergland,” I say, sticking my hand out. “I’m Birdie. It’s nice to finally meet you in person. You must be here for Wheaton—”
“I’m hoping we can discuss the care of my parents,” he says, cutting me off.
I glance at my watch. “I have about thirty minutes if you think that’s enough time.”
“That will do,” he says.
“Do you want your parents present?”
“No,” he says. “Liam wants to be there though.”
“Of course,” I say, and point down the hall. “Let’s pop into one of the offices.”
We get situated at a round table. Larry rests his hands on the table, but Liam continues to look down.
Larry points to me. “Are you their main nurse?”
I nod. “I’m Sunny and Sis’s appointed RN, yes. They also have a caseworker, a physician who oversees their care, and June Van Osten, who is the nursing home administrator.”
And also my mom, but I leave that part out.
“My mom,” Larry begins, “Sis, she needs a lot more care than she’s getting. Her Alzheimer’s is progressing more quickly than before, and Sunny only gets a two-hour break from her a day, which is going to kill him before Alzheimer’s kills my mom.”
“I understand your concerns,” I say, focusing on Larry but very aware of Liam’s presence. “We’d love to have the resources to do more memory care, but we don’t. Sis received intervention late, and there will be faster progression of the disease because of—”
“That’s not good enough,” Larry says. “I won’t hesitate to pull my parents out of here.”
“Dad,” Liam says under his breath, but his dad holds his hand up and silences him.
“Mr. Bergland,” I continue, “if you think it’s better for your mom to receive more memory care therapies, I’d be happy to share a list of recommendations. The best one is in Minneapolis, but they don’t accept anyone into their program without severe issues, so Sunny couldn’t live with her, which is an important consideration.”
Larry stands and runs his fingers through his graying hair. “This place is a joke. I pay a premium to have my parents here. Do you know how much you’d lose monthly if I pulled them out?”
“We’d hate to see them go,” I say, “but we can’t offer what you’re looking for. We know we’re small compared to other options. We do our best with the limited resources we have, but I recognize it’s not always enough.”
“They love it here,” Liam says. “And think about their friends and how much they’d miss them.”
“Enough, Liam,” Larry says. “You’re the last person I need to weigh in on this.”
“Sir,” I say, standing, “I don’t know how many days you’re in town, but I’m sure my...”
I let my voice trail off.
“June Van Osten would be happy to sit down with you and discuss options. We are committed to giving them the best care they need, but we are unfortunately limited.”
Larry Bergland glances at his watch. “I will take that meeting with the administrator. Thank you. I’m here all week.”
“I do have to get back to work,” I say, staring at the large circular clock on the wall. “But I’ll be in touch with what day will be best.”
“Thanks for your time, Birdie,” Liam says. He almost looks as defeated as I feel.
The residents are the easiest part of this job. The families, who I need to remind myself mean well, can be challenging. I don’t know how the sweetest couple in the world, Sunny and Sis, could have an offspring who is so unpleasant. But then again, Liam also comes from them, and now it makes sense after meeting his dad. I follow them out of the office, and they walk in one direction, and I head in the other.
“Hey, Marilyn,” I say as she makes her way toward the birds. “Do you have a lot of family in town?”
Marilyn smiles. “My grandbabies are coming in today to play bingo.”
“That’s great,” I say. “I’ll be sure to stop by.”
“They’re here until Sunday, so you’ll see a lot of them.”
“Perfect,” I say, squeezing her shoulder. “I know how much you’ve missed them.”
“Also,” Marilyn says, grabbing my arm, “Abigail and I are going to knit later.”
“You’re a good friend,” I say.
After my shift, I head outside and pull my sunglasses on. I’m getting used to the walk home, but I’m going to have to figure out the car situation soon. My mom and me sharing isn’t working so well because her hours are so unpredictable. I had my car towed from Camilla and Jake’s, and the estimate to get it fixed was more than the value of the car. I’ve been trying to save up money to get something respectable. I feel stranded without one.
The walk home is only about a mile, and it’s shorter because I cut through the cemetery.
“Birdie.” Liam pulls up beside me and steps out of his car. “It’s a hundred degrees out. Why are you walking?”
“Would you believe I’m trying to get steps in on this beautiful day?” I raise my shoulders and smile.
“Let me guess,” he says. “Your piece-of-shit car will not be making a comeback.”
“And here I am.”
He comes up on the sidewalk. I squint because the sun is directly behind him, and it’s bright, even with my shades.
“I’m sorry about my dad,” he finally says.
“He’s a concerned parent,” I say. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Come on.” Liam presses his lips into a thin line. “He’s an ass. And maybe some medical code of ethics won’t allow you to say it out loud. But if you ever catch me resembling him in any way, I give you permission to hit me.”
“Noted.” I pull my bottom lip into my mouth and bite it.
He glances at his car. “Can I give you a ride? I’m sweating through my shirt. You can’t be comfortable.”
I go to refuse, but I’m hot as well and wouldn’t mind a break from the heat.
“Thanks,” I say.
We drive to my house in silence. He remembers exactly where I live. After all, the Hurst haunted house is a staple in this town. We pull into the driveway, and Liam puts his car in park.
“Thanks for the—”
“It’s not even about you,” Liam interrupts. “Or Sunny and Sis. My dad came to town to punish me. I’m a huge disappointment to him, and he needed to remind me of that fact.”
I take my seatbelt off and blow out a breath.
“Okay. I’ll admit, he’s not the most pleasant person I’ve had to deal with.” I press my lips together, but my smile bleeds through.
“That’s putting it mildly.” Liam shakes his head. “Who’s looking better? Your sperm donor or Larry Bergland?”
“Liam.” I slug him in the arm, and he laughs.
I’m immediately transfixed by the power it has on me. I feel like I’ve yet to see the real man hiding beneath his stoic exterior. The sound of it makes me wish I had something funny and clever to offer so I could hear so much more of that beautiful sound.
“Seriously, Birdie,” Liam says, “you are amazing at your job. And I’m sure you know that. Don’t let people like my father ever make you feel small.”
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. The car is warming, and a bead of sweat runs down the back of my neck. But I’m transfixed by this kind person staring back at me. I’m seeing him for the first time, and it’s so different from what he’s shown me previously.
“What?” Liam says, narrowing his eyes.
“I’m trying to figure out if this is the real you, or if you’re the sarcastic curmudgeon who likes to point out that my car is crap and that I live in a haunted house.”
Liam puckers his lips and then bites the corner of his lip.
“I suppose I’m both.”
“Hmm,” I say. “I guess you are.”
We stare at each other as if there’s something we’re trying to figure out about the other person.
“Well,” I finally say, reaching for the door, “I appreciate the ride home. And the apology. Which was wholly unnecessary.”
I step out of the car, and Liam pulls away.