“What is this torture you are participating in?”
“It’s a fundraiser.” I slide into the conversation. “All the students are participating in the run-a-thon to raise money for new laptops. They can be paid per lap, per mile, or a flat rate for their participation. Em set a goal to run three miles.”
Emma’s face lights up. “Mom said she’ll pay me thirty dollars if I complete all three miles. Cool, huh?”
“That’s awesome.” Max replies. “What time is it at?”
“Fifth grade is going out at eleven,” Emma says.
“I’ll stop by and cheer you on—for sure. Should I bring the foam finger?”
She giggles.
He pretends to think about something and then says, “Why don’t you put me down for a hundred bucks?”
“Wow! Thanks! I’m going to go call Reese and tell her that I’m bringing in the most money. She’ll flip. Her parents only gave her twenty dollars and I’m getting one hundred andthirty between you two.” She’s off before either of us can respond.
“I’m going to have to deal with that later,” I say.
“Did those two have a fight?” His brow furrows.
“No, but they’re super competitive because they like to keep my life interesting.”
He sighs and smiles at me. “Well, I miss you and can’t wait to see you.”
“You’re getting sappy.” I can’t imagine a day where him telling me he misses me, loves me, can’t wait to see me will get old. It makes my heart skip a beat every time.
Max puts a finger to his lips. “Don’t let my sisters know.”
“I would never.” I confessed to reaching out to them after his concussion and he loved that I was willing to do so to help him. Since that day, there’s been a sister’s thread that includes me. While it’s not super active, they’ll occasionally send pictures of their daily life, which is so much cooler than mine.
An incoming call from White Pine Assisted Living Center flashes across my screen. “Max, I gotta go but I’ll see you soon, okay? Love you.”
There’s no sense in worrying him before I know what’s going on, and he can’t do anything while he’s in the air anyway. He doesn’t need that stress while flying. I’m still the point of contact for the next two hours until he’s in Idaho, and I exit our video chat to answer.
“Mrs. Adler-Hutchings?” a woman says in way of a greeting.
“Yes, this is Nola.”
“This is Laurie from White Pine. I’m afraid Stella’s having one of her episodes and I’m following the protocol set by the Hutchings Family to let somebody know when it’s gone on for more than fifteen minutes.” She’s apologetic but unfrazzled bywhatever behavior Stella is dishing at them. A professional who’s probably seen it all, unfortunately.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Thank you for letting me know.” I hang up and call Belle. It goes straight to voicemail. I try Mom next. She agrees to hang with Emma now and pick up Max from the airport when he arrives.
I pace the living room while I wait for her to arrive. Emma walks in and asks, “Is Stella going to be okay? I heard you talking to Nana.”
“Yeah, she’s confused today and once Nana gets here, I need to try to help Stella.”
“Just go. I’m fine by myself for ten minutes. I’m in the middle of watchingThe Princess Brideagain, and I won’t move from that spot on the couch.” She points to her corner.I blow out a deep breath and give up a little more control; Emma is trustworthy. A few minutes alone won’t hurt her.
When I getto the care center, I hear Stella before I see her. She’s in the dining hall, yelling at the staff over the wrong glassware on the tables.
“I’ve told you I want the green ribbed glass goblets set for the party tonight. How is this so hard to understand?” Stella’s standing next to the table, hands on her hips, chin up, her flamingo pink kaftan flowing around her.
Opal sits calmly at the offending table and recites what she’s probably said a dozen times already as staff look on, “Stella, honey, the dinner party got moved to next week. However, tonight they’re serving chicken fried steak, and I’d like to eat dinner. Why don’t you sit and join me?”
Opal’s gaze leaves Stella for mine, and she lifts her brow, which I take as an acknowledgment of solidarity. Max wouldknow what to do right now. He’d walk up to her and gently take her hands and call her Grandma. We’ve lucked out in the last few months that she hasn’t had an episode. The downside is I haven’t had to figure out if my presence will upset her more or bring her back to reality. It was only a matter of time.
A woman I recognize from earlier visits puts a hand on my shoulder. “I’m grateful you came. She’s been very concerned about a garden party she’s throwing tonight and we can’t place what’s going on in her mind. Opal said Stella used to throw big parties in her backyard for all occasions—today’s date doesn’t ring as significant to Opal, so we’re at a loss. However, we’ll need to try to get her back to her room soon, though, so other residents can have dinner.”
