Peering inside the wide glass doors, she took note that no one was manning the desk, which was unheard of.There was always someone at the desk, and at least ten night nurses on deck.
What the heck was going on?
She’d look like a loon, stomping into the facility with a hammer in her hand, but she had to find out what was happening.Yanking the door open, Dom hurried inside with Nina hot on her heels.
All was quiet in the reception area, the low-pile carpet hushing her footsteps in the deserted space.The rec room right off the entryway, where everyone gathered to play bingo and Uno, and where a yoga instructor came three times a week to help those who could, stretch, was completely empty
Nina grabbed her by the arm and sniffed the air.“Some shit ain’t right.Get behind me, hold my hand, don’t fucking let go, and tell me where your grandfather’s room is.”
Panic began to gnaw at her insides as she gripped MC’s handle with force and took Nina’s hand, comforted by her steely grip.“Down the hall, make a right, second door on the left.It has a picture of my grandma Ilena on it.”
As they went, Nina’s steps like that of a stealthy cat, Dom’s pulse raced in fear.Where was everyone?Why was it so quiet?Nighttime was always hectic here, due to several of the residents sundowning.Many dementia patients grew agitated as the sun went down—her grandfather included.
When Nina put her fingers on the door, Dom’s heart skipped another beat, terrified of what they’d find.
But when the door swung open…there was her grandfather, sitting in his favorite worn green and navy-blue armchair from the house he’d once shared with her grandmother, his lined face slack, his eyes focused on his big-screen TV.
She’d had his room meticulously recreated to reflect her grandfather’s living room from their old home.
Every tiny detail, right down to the doilies her grandmother had crocheted, sitting on the coffee table, to the pictures of her family hanging on the wall—all done in honor of him and the timeframe of his life he remembered most clearly.
Dom pushed past Nina and ran inside, kneeling in front of him and grabbing his hand.“Papa?Are you okay?”
Stavros stared straight ahead.He didn’t even cock his head full of thick white hair when she spoke.Normally, at this time of night, he was full of vim and vigor, and plenty of mischief.
She pressed a hand to his weathered cheek.“Papa?It’s me, Dominique.Talk to me.Tell me about your day.Did you make a batch of moussaka today?You know how much the customers love that.”
When he didn’t answer, she carried on as though this were a two-way conversation.Smiling, she pulled a blanket from the top of the chair and covered his lap.“I didn’t get my phone call from you tonight, so I figured I’d pop on over and see what you’ve been getting up to.Are you behaving yourself, or are you and Miss Verlean up to no good again?”
He and Verlean were on the same path in their illness, both stuck in a place they’d once treasured, and as a result, they shared similar side-effects.
She kept her tone even and conversational, treating him as though he hadn’t almost completely forgotten her and only had moments of clarity about her existence on any given day.
She’d done more than her fair share of research on dementia and Alzheimer’s since her grandfather had been diagnosed.She’d learned the best ways to keep him calm without having to medicate him.She knew how to approach him by rolling with the punches and without showing any surprise when he called her Toula, her mother’s name.
His memory still existed in a time when he’d lived in Astoria in Queens and ran a popular restaurant, and that’s where she let him linger—back in a time when her mother was in high school in the eighties and waited tables for him.
It appeared to be when he’d been at one of the happiest points of his life.Her mother and grandmother had been gone a long while now, and for many years, it had just been her and Stavros.But he didn’t appear to often remember when they’d lived together, just the two of them, or when she’d moved out and gotten her own apartment.
Mostly, he clung to the memory of her mother, his wife, their restaurant, and the life the three of them had shared before Dom was born.
“I’m gonna go look around because somethin’s up.Don’t you move a muscle.Stay with your grandad,” Nina ordered, before slipping out of her papa’s room on catlike feet.
Setting MC on the floor beside her feet, Dom put her elbows on his knees the way she used to when she was little, smiling up at him.“Papa, where is everybody?How come you and Sheffrey aren’t raiding the cookie jar in the kitchen?Where’s Verlean?For that matter, where’s Susan?”
Susan was one of the night nurses, one of his favorite.Somehow, Susan was always able to get her grandfather to do what she wanted, to do what heneeded.
She was magically gifted with the patients, tolerant, kind, gentle, and Dom loved her as much as Stavros did.
Still, he didn’t answer as she searched his blue eyes.It was almost as if he was in some kind of daze.Usually, he at least acknowledged her.“Dominique, may I?”MC asked.
“May you what?”
“Set me in his lap, won’t you?I can help, if you’ll let me.”
Dom stared at the battered hammer, perplexed.“You have to be really careful not to agitate him.He’s always most confused at night.I don’t know what’s going on with him right now, or why he’s so docile.Maybe he got riled up and they had to sedate him?”
On rare occasions, when nothing else worked, they’d give him a sedative, but he typically fell asleep in that case.This was just plain weird.
