On Tuesday, Remy led Wendell toward the reception desk of Serene Hollow Assisted Living Community at eleven o’clock in the morning. Her body was moving heavily, as if through water instead of air, because exhaustion weighted her limbs.
She hadn’t slept well the past few nights after telling Wendell that she’d return to the mainland. All day today—during the choppy boat ride, while renting a car, as she navigated here—she’d felt ridiculously furtive. She kept worrying Jeremiah would catch her—like an adult catching a middle schooler in a floodlight while the middle schooler was TP-ing a house.
It was irrational. The best that could be said was that her preoccupation hadn’t rendered her insensitive to Wendell’s own preoccupation. She’d sensed her elderly friend growing more and more nervous as they’d neared the assisted living complex, which had made her sympathetically nervous on his behalf. Wendell had lost a great deal over the past few years. He earnestly needed something to go his way.
Wendell’s tread stopped behind her as she reached the reception desk. He waited politely in his sensible shoes and trousers. He’d dared to bring out his best sweater with the nautical flags once again.
The middle-aged woman behind the desk had close-cropped black hair and an enormous bosom clothed in yellow scrubs. “Welcome to Serene Hollow,” she said with an easy smile. “What can I do for you folks?”
“My friend Wendell Reeves would like to visit with Marisol Gordon.”
The woman tapped on her keyboard. “I don’t see Wendell Reeves on Marisol’s list of approved friends and family, so I’ll just need your IDs, please. Then I’ll give Marisol a quick call.”
“That’ll be fine,” Wendell replied, white-faced yet determined. “Thank you.”
They passed over their driver’s licenses and the woman scanned them. Was there a chance Marisol wouldn’t remember Wendell? Or perhaps Marisol harbored animosity toward him and wouldn’t want to see him? If Marisol turned Wendell away, he’d be crushed.
The employee dialed her desk phone, then lifted the handset to her ear.
Remy held her breath.Please, please, let this go well.
“Mrs. Gordon,” the employee said into the phone, “Wendell Reeves is here to visit with you, and he’s brought along a friend. Is it all right with you if I send them your way?”
She listened, nodding. “Yes. That’s right. Wendell Reeves.” More waiting. “Yes, I’m quite sure it’s him. I have his driver’s license in front of me.” A few seconds of listening. “Itisamazing.” She winked at Wendell. “No, I won’t let him leave. I’ll send him right up. What’s that?” A pause. “Understood.” She hung up and beamed at Wendell. “She’s extremely excited to see you. So excited that she asked if you could give her five minutes to work on her hair and makeup and change her outfit. Is that possible?”
Wendell’s face glowed with pleasure. “Of course.”
“May I get you a glass of water while you wait?” the woman asked.
Remy and Wendell both took her up on the offer. Remy watched with amusement as Wendell downed his water in one long gulp.
They went to stand out of earshot of the reception desk. “I’m sure you’d like privacy,” Remy told him. “You go see Marisol by yourself. I’ll wait down here for you.”
“I’ll need your help finding her room. I’m not good with unfamiliar buildings like these, even when I’m not shaken up. Right now, I’m shaken up. Also, I don’t know what kind of . . . state Marisol’s going to be in. What if she’s fragile and needs a hand with walking, Remy? My balance is shot. If I tried to assist her, both of us could fall and break our hips.”
“Breaking your hips would not be ideal.” For Wendell’s sake, Remy hoped that Marisol wasn’t fragile. Or suffering from dementia. Or fighting the final stages of a terminal illness.
“You’ll come with me for a few minutes?”
“Yes, I’ll see you settled. Then I’ll leave you to it and you can spend as much time with her as you want.”
“A lifetime?”
“Absolutely. But if you’re going to spend a lifetime, just give me a heads-up so I don’t spend my own lifetime waiting in this sitting room.”
“You betcha.”
The employee provided a map that laid out the route from their current position to Marisol’s apartment. The facility was large, reminding Remy of an enormous vacation condo development.
Without taking a single wrong turn, Remy cut a path through a green space that included a pool, Jacuzzi, and outdoor fireplaces. They entered Marisol’s building and took an elevator to the second floor. Remy double-checked the apartment number, but as soon as the elevator doors opened, she saw that she wasn’t going to need the number. A lady was waiting with a face full of anticipation halfway down the hallway. She had dark eyes cushioned in a broad face that radiated sweetness. An irresistible smile. Milk-white hair. Her rounded body couldn’t have been taller than five foot two.
Her focus didn’t waver from Wendell. She looked at him with outright astonishment and joy.
Purposely, Remy slowed so that Wendell could go ahead of her. She tried to be as unobtrusive as possible but really, had she been performing jumping jacks, neither Marisol nor Wendell would have paid her any attention.
Marisol gave a quiet exclamation of happiness and opened her arms. Wendell engulfed her in a bear hug. They stayed that way and Remy saw his shoulders shaking. He was crying.
“My darling,” Marisol whispered. “You’re really here. How did I get so lucky?”
