18
“Good morning, Gladys.”
“Henry, what brings you by today?”
“I was wondering if I could use the printer and the copier? If you can believe it, Dennis doesn’t have either in his home,”
Henry says.
“Oh, I can believe it. What do any of us need a printer for when we’re eighty? Having this one here for the whole neighborhood
is just fine for all of us,” she replied.
Henry smiled and nodded. He couldn’t argue with that.
“Whatcha working on?”
“Just some stuff, reminders and lists for Dennis for when I go back to New York. So he has all the answers in one place,”
he told her.
“Sweet boy, I don’t think any of us can have all the answers.
But if someone did, it would more likely be one of us old folks who’ve been around, made our mistakes already, and lived to tell about them.
Don’t you think?” Gladys winked and got up from behind her desk.
“Here, use this computer, since it’s already locked and loaded.
The other one sometimes forgets to talk to the printer. ”
Henry sat in Gladys’s chair, ruminating on what she’d just said. He wanted to believe that we all got wiser as we got older.
But his granddad often forgot to take his medicine, sometimes refusing completely to take the larger-size supplements that
were harder to swallow. He was stubborn as all get-out and wouldn’t use his walker. He left the TV and lights on when he went
to bed or left the house.
And each time Henry caught any of these things, it brought about a spike of anxiety. And a fresh wave of guilt. Dennis had
always been there to take care of Henry when he was young. And now, Henry was realizing, he’d neglected to take care of Dennis
as he got older.
But Henry had a life in New York, a successful career and . . . well, not much else. But he’d been busy. Still, spending time
with his grandfather these past couple weeks made it clear that he could have paid and would be paying closer attention. Starting
with these lists and reminders. It was the best he could offer.
“Gordon had a special today—strawberry matchas! Now, I know you think matcha tastes like grass, but— Oh, sorry. I swore Gladys
usually sits in that chair.” Henry looked up from the computer at the loud intrusion to his thoughts. Jia stood there with
two brightly colored drinks in her hands, a wide smile on her face.
“Jia, it is me, Gladys. I just borrowed Henry’s body for the day.”
Jia stared at Henry, expressionless.
Shit, so much for attempting humor. What was he thinking? Henry never cracked a joke. Because, clearly, he was bad at it.
Jia’s entire face exploded into laughter. She keeled over with it. She barely balanced the drinks in time before they could
spill. “Henry J. Shin, Esquire, did you just make a joke?”
“Not a very good one.” He deadpanned back before lifting the corner of his mouth. Why was her laughter funnier than the joke
itself?
She pulled herself together, but the smiled remained. God, she was pretty. She didn’t look to have any makeup on. Her hair
was up in a knot. She wore denim shorts and a plain white tank top. And she was the most stunning thing he’d laid eyes on.
Last night, he’d lost himself. It was dark, and he’d been mesmerized by the most gorgeous sunset he’d ever seen. And Jia was
there. He’d let himself go. He’d let himself say things he never said out loud. He’d let himself explore emotions, test out
feelings, even in small bite-size pieces, with Jia last night. What if? he’d asked himself. Could we? he’d wondered.
He’d gone to bed feeling raw, exposed, untethered. He hated it. But he wasn’t so sure he wanted to leave it behind.
It didn’t matter. Because Henry was leaving all of this, and likely Jia too, soon enough.
“Whatcha working on?” she asked, leaning her hip against the corner of the desk.
“Some things for Dennis. A calendar, reminders, just for when I’m . . .” Henry stopped himself.
“Gone?” Jia completed his sentence.
It felt odd to be talking about it . . .
leaving. He assumed they’d both eventually be back in New York at some point.
And then . . . what? Just go back to life as he was living it?
Yes, probably. Was there another option?
Everything was very simple, ordered, and focused before.
It was also empty, lonely, and repetitive.
That wasn’t a bad thing, though, right? “Yeah, since I won’t be here to help him. ”
“That’s nice of you.” She looked at everything Henry had worked on. “That’s a lot of reminders.”
“He’s got a lot of stuff to remember to take care of himself.”
“You included a reminder to wash and fold his laundry.”
“Yeah, that’s important.”
“He probably knows to do that, though, no? I mean, Dennis doesn’t have any issues with his memory, does he?” Jia asked. “You
think maybe this is too much?”
Henry looked back at the list. Everything on there felt important. He’d also cross-referenced much of it into a calendar format.
“It’s just for reference. I don’t want him to get overwhelmed with everything he has to do and forget.”
“I’m just saying. My parents do this to me all the time. Try to, well, control how I live my life. Down to the minutiae. It’s
stifling. I’m an adult. And, Henry? So is your granddad. Give him some credit. I know you’re trying to help. But don’t, in
your best efforts at love, end up taking away his freedom.”
Henry stared at her. He opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn’t think of what to say. He battled the irritation of her
overstepping with the deep pull of shame. He wanted to defend himself and his intentions while apologizing for going about
it the wrong way. But also, she didn’t know Dennis. She didn’t know how both he and his granddad had the trauma of Henry’s
flighty parents always hovering over them. How when shit didn’t get done, it ended up often hitting the fan.
Maybe this was why Jia couldn’t cut it at Bakerson’s Group. She needed to be more detailed, organized, meticulous, overprepared. But he knew that wasn’t fair for him to say to her, even if he was thinking it. It would be a low blow.
“Thanks for the advice. But I know my granddad, and this is what he needs.” His voice was sharper than he’d meant it to be.
Jia nodded and didn’t say another word.
Henry thought about asking Jia if she wanted to meet up sometime when they were both back in the city. He thought about asking
when she’d next be in Palm Springs and maybe they could coordinate visits. He considered various different ways that he could
see her again.
But if this time in the desert with his grandfather and with the people at The Sunset all trying to creep into his heart had
taught him anything, it was this: Life was easier without the worry, fear, anxiety, desire, or warmth of caring about anyone
other than yourself.
Henry needed to get back on familiar, solid footing and shut everything and everyone else out.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Henry pulled it out to answer. He froze when he saw the name. Elliot Shin. Not Dad. Because as far as Henry was concerned, he didn’t have a dad, or a mom. They were just Elliot and Katie, nuisances at best.
Why was he calling now? But if Henry didn’t answer, he knew Elliot would direct his efforts to Dennis next.
“Excuse me. I have to get this,” he said to Jia. He stood up and walked out into the main room and over to the more private
library.
“What do you want?” he said into the phone.
“Henry, how you doing? Good? It’s been too long.
Listen, Mom and I are on our way down from Toronto to hike the Appalachian Trail.
Thought about stopping in the city to see you, son.
” It was how they did things. Acted like things were always okay and relationships had never been severed.
Softening up communications before laying on the request for money, just a little extra help.
“I’m not in town. Can’t make it,” Henry answered.
“Well, that’s too bad. Would have liked to see you.” Henry waited for the inevitable ask. “Listen, your folks are a little
short on cash this month, and we’ll need to stock up on supplies for our extended trip. It’s a rough journey, and we could
use some equipment—”
Henry gripped the phone so tightly he worried it would break. “We’re not doing this, Elliot. I’m not sending you anything.
And don’t even think about asking Dennis. Do you understand me?”
“Now, now, no need to get irritated. Just think about it, and give us a call if you change your mind. We could really use
the help.”
Henry hated how they always turned it on him, making him out to be the asshole.
“I’m hanging up now,” he warned. And he did just that.
He closed his eyes and took a few calming breaths. Interactions with his parents always brought out the worst in him. Because
they were the worst.
He’d have to warn Dennis, yet again, not to take their calls and definitely not to send them any money. He just knew Dennis
wouldn’t listen, though. Henry looked back into the office where he’d left Jia and his stupid lists and his stupid calendar
and his stupid best intentions.
And he wondered when, despite all his best efforts, he had lost control of his tightly held life and considered what he needed
to do to get it back again.
“Are you okay?” Jia’s face had her concern written all over it.
She didn’t ask if everything was okay. She asked if he was. Something about that struck him so hard he had to stop and put his hand against the doorway to gain his balance. Henry
hated the vulnerability of being perceived by other people. But with Jia, he craved it.
And that had the ability to bring him to his knees. He had no doubt that she would one day kill him with her kindness if he
let her.
“Yeah, I’m okay” was all he could say in response. It was all he was going to give her. But it was more than he’d ever given
anyone else.