Chapter Twenty-Six
At the end of August Cassie made an appointment to visit Riverside Gardens with her dad.
The house was almost packed up, and he was resigned to moving.
Sort of. She’d investigated several assisted living facilities, and Riverside Gardens seemed the best. He could have his own apartment for now and tiered care when he needed more help.
“You look handsome,” she said when he came downstairs. He was wearing a pair of navy slacks and a collared shirt. The clothes were clean and his hair combed. In spite of his reluctance, he’d made an effort.
“All right then, let’s go.” He fished the car keys out of his pocket.
“How about I drive?” she said lightly. He hadn’t driven much since the heart attack but in the last couple of weeks, he’d seemed to remember about the car.
A couple of times she’d been alarmed to find him about to set out on some errand or another.
Luckily, she’d been able to talk him out of it, but here he was summoning up a last bit of defiance.
“I’ll drive.” His face had taken on that obstinate look. “Just tell me how to get there.”
“Well, we have to head down Ridge Road, take a left on Thornhill, which takes us to Oak. We can either jump on the parkway for an exit or cut over on Mill River. Whatever you think.”
He waved off the directions. “Tell me when we’re in the car.”
“What if I wasn’t with you?” she said gently. “How would you know how to go?”
“I wouldn’t be going on my own,” he countered, but his face fell. He still had enough lawyer left in him to realize the faultiness of his logic.
“I know it’s hard, but do you think you should still be driving?
It was time for me to sell the apartment; it’s time to move out of this house.
I think it’s time for you to stop driving too, Daddy.
It’s not safe anymore.” She held out her hand for the keys.
“I’m going to be around; you can’t get rid of me. I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”
He hesitated and she feared it might go badly, but no way was he getting behind the wheel.
“You don’t know the car. The brakes are finicky.”
“I’ve been driving it without any problem for the last four months.
But I tell you what, why don’t you explain it to me when we get in the car.
” The brakes were fine. She’d had everything checked out when the wiper issue was fixed.
She was tempted to pluck the keys out of his hand, but she would never rob him of his dignity that way.
“You can’t drive it like this,” he said.
“Why not?” She was beginning to get frustrated. Their appointment was in fifteen minutes, and he wasn’t budging.
“The windshield is dirty.” He’d always insisted on cleaning the windshield when she was a teenager, making her wait while he meticulously sprayed the glass and polished it with a rag. Then planted himself at the top of the driveway and watched her turn around. It used to drive her crazy.
“Let’s clean it, then.” She didn’t point out that he’d been about to set off himself without the benefit of Windex.
“I’ll do it.”
“Thank you,” she said, relieved they’d avoided a confrontation. At least he would feel in control of something. “I’m glad you thought of it.”
He nodded and handed over the keys like it had been his intention all along.
. . .
The woman who met them at Riverside Gardens was pleasant and cheerful, and Cassie’s dad took an instant dislike to her. But in the mood he was in he might have taken offense to anyone.
“I’m Joy,” the woman told them, and Cassie couldn’t help wondering if that was her real name or one she used to jolly up the residents, a few of whom were lingering in the TV room after lunch.
With its shutters and grand porticoed entrance, the residence appeared more like a genteel New England inn than an assisted living facility.
Inside was clean and bright with a large black and white dog lounging by the reception desk.
“Who’s this?” Cassie asked.
“That’s Leo,” Joy said. “He’s the house dog. The staff takes turns bringing him home at night, but he hangs out here during the day. He’s very friendly; you can pet him.” She directed this to Cassie’s father, who ignored her.
Joy seemed unfazed. She was obviously used to a certain amount of resistance from prospective residents. “How about a tour?”
“That would be wonderful,” Cassie said.
Joy showed them the dining room, with tables for eight set with white napkins and tablecloths. A nice touch, even if her dad wouldn’t appreciate it. And the community room with couches and comfortable chairs, the wall-mounted TV and built-in bookshelves.
“A lady from the library brings us new books every couple of weeks,” Joy said. “And if there’s something you want that you don’t see, we can ask them. They’re very accommodating.”
“Look, they have puzzles too,” Cassie pointed out, but her father either didn’t hear or didn’t bother responding.
It was difficult, no question. The house had been sold to a young family, the one Beth had mentioned, but Cassie’s dad still dragged his feet whenever possible.
She’d sold the patio furniture online, and when the buyer showed up Andrew had to persuade his grandfather to let them take it.
Andrew had offered to come today, but Cassie didn’t want him to miss his shift at the grocery store.
Cassie touched her father’s arm. “Want to see the rooms?”
“I suppose so.”
The model suite was bland, with hotel art and drapes that matched the bedspread.
At least they could bring some of her dad’s furniture so it would feel more like home.
Her father lowered himself into an armchair.
It had been four months since his ankle injury and he wasn’t using the cane anymore, but since the heart attack he tired easily.
“Can we have a few minutes?” Cassie asked Joy, who was all set to whisk them off to see the patio.
“Sure, I’ll be at reception when you’re ready.”
Cassie sat on the bed and reached for her dad’s hand. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll be here all the time, and if you don’t like the food I’ll sue them.”
That got a smile out of him, which she took as a hopeful sign. “Actually, I’ve heard the food here is pretty good, and you’ve got a fridge for snacks.”
“How will I get to the store?”
“They have a van, or I can bring over a few things. Or we can go together if you want.”
“What about my bee stuff?”
“Um, your bee stuff?” They’d discussed the bees; surely he understood the bees would not be coming.
“You know, my veil and such.”
“Daddy, there’s no place for the bees here.
” She glanced out the window, which had a nondescript view of the back lawn.
A sidewalk ran along a border planted with regulation impatiens and petunias.
Beyond that, a stretch of grass gave way to a box hedge and some carefully tended trees.
The lawn was probably mowed and clipped weekly. Nothing riotous. No bees in sight.
“What do you mean there’s no place for them?” He sounded like this was the first he’d heard of it. “Where will they go?”
“I’m going to find someone who’ll take them.
” She hadn’t quite figured that out yet.
The thought of looking for a beekeeper left her with a lingering lethargy, like a flu she couldn’t quite shake.
Two months since she’d seen Glenn and she still ached with regret.
Still glanced at every white pickup that drove past.
Her dad crossed his arms.
“We talked about this,” she said. “Remember?”
“We never talked about it.”
She sighed. Nose to nose confrontation never worked with him. After all these years, she’d finally learned that. “I’ll call the Arboretum. I bet they know someone.”
“I want that fellow, what’s his name…”
Her stomach cinched. “Oh no. Glenn can’t possibly take them. He has too many bees already.”
“I like him. He knows what he’s doing.”
She felt a tingle of panic. How could she call Glenn? He definitely would not want to hear from her, not after she’d sent him packing. Calling Glenn was not an option. “I’m sure lots of other beekeepers know what they’re doing. I’ll find someone good, I promise.”
Her dad was beginning to look agitated, his face going blotchy. “He’s the one I want. I trust him.”
She thought of how the house was being emptied.
Furniture sold, the china boxed up. Her father’s world shrinking around him.
He was being made to leave the house he knew and loved and start over in two rooms with a mini fridge.
The facility was a perfectly suitable place that could provide the care he needed. But it wasn’t home.
Her father wanted to get up, so she helped him out of the chair.
Deep chairs were tough; his wing chair would be better.
She would be sure to bring it over. Her stomach churned unhappily at the thought of calling Glenn.
He’d humbled himself and asked for another chance and she’d said no, hurt and exhausted by his silence.
With everything going on in her life, it had all been too much.
She squeezed her dad’s hand as they started down the hall.
Leo ambled by, sniffing her leg briefly, and she stroked his soft back.
What did her own discomfort matter? Yes, it would be awkward to call Glenn, but this was her dad they were talking about.
He might forget the day of the week or whether he’d agreed to a tour of Riverside Gardens, but he hadn’t forgotten about his bees.
And he knew who he wanted to take care of them.
She had to at least try.