“You know they have people who get paid to feed your mom, right? You don’t have to go every evening. Hell, you don’t have to go at all if you don’t want to. There are nurses and stuff there.”
“Iwantto be there. Please move over.” The irritation in my voice is clear now.
He finally moves, and I grab the door handle, open it, and climb into the car. He barely steps away enough to allow me to reverse out of the dirt patch that serves as the driveway, but I get around him. As I drive off, I check in my rearview mirror, and he’s stationary in front of my unit, watching me drive away. I don’t like that he stays that close to my place, but it is what it is.
I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do. A shiver runs through me at the reminder, and I push the button to lock Teresa’s doors again, even though I know I already did it.
Chapter Sixteen
Delaney
The short drive to the nursing home goes by quickly, and I rush inside to sign in. I glance at my watch and see dinner’s been going on for forty-five minutes now.
Damn it.
I get into the memory care unit and make my way to the dining room, but Mom isn’t here. There are a few stragglers finishing their meals with Ashley, an aide, helping them as needed. That makes me feel better. At least someone is feeding the residents who can’t manage on their own.
“Hi, Ashley,” I say to her. “Do you know where my mom is? Did she eat dinner yet?”
Ashley’s young, maybe in her early twenties, and in nursing school. I’ve learned a lot about the aides during the days I’ve sat here and fed Mom. It’s almost like they forget I’m there when they’re dishing out all the gossip or talking about their own lives. Anyway, good for Ashley that she’s chasing her dream.
I think of Mom and how much she wanted to be a nurse, and the guilt that I held her back hits me. I push it away from my mind.
“Yep. She ate about half. We had a volunteer feed her because she wasn’t really showing interest in trying to eat any of the finger foods—even the fries. And you know your mama loves those fries.” I smile at her, pleased that she cares enough to have noted how much Mom loves the French fries here. “We’ll watch her and see if this is a new pattern or if this was a one-off. Anyway, she left here with Lydia, so I suspect she’s out in the garden.”
“Oh, okay. I don't know Lydia. Is she a new aide?”
“No, she’s the volunteer.” She pauses and wipes a resident’s mouth with a napkin, and I note the care she takes. “I’ve been seeing her here with your mom a lot. Hattie responds well to her.”
“Okay, thank you. I’m thrilled to hear that.”
I head to the garden, fully expecting that I’ll see my mom sitting or standing, staring off. Instead, she’s outside, perched on a stool, putting a flower into a pot. I’m stunned.
There’s a pretty, well-put-together woman who I would place in her late fifties, maybe early sixties, sitting next to Mom. I watch for a moment, overjoyed that Mom is taking part, especially in something she loved so much when she was well. After a minute or two, the woman glances up and sees me, then gives me a small wave and a smile. I open the door and step outside, breathing in the summer air.
Mom loves summer. Or she did. I realize I don’t know whether that applies anymore. A fresh wave of sorrow washes over me.
“Hi, you must be Lydia.”
I give her an awkward half-wave. I’m not used to people other than me, Pat, or Mrs. Nicker spending time with Mombeyond that required to provide physical care or feed her. It’s thrown me off.
“I am. I’m guessing you’re Delaney?” The woman gives me a warm smile.
“That’s me. Nice to meet you. Ashley told me you fed Mom. Thank you for doing that.”
“Oh, my gosh, no need to thank me. It’s my pleasure to help.”
“Do you mind if I watch?” I gesture to Mom. She’s so focused on her work.
“Of course not. You can even work with her.”
“I think I’d rather just say hello, then watch, if that’s okay.”
“Sure. No problem at all.”
I move to where Mom is sitting and put myself in her line of vision. She tilts her head slightly toward me—so I’m sure she’s aware of my presence—but she doesn’t look at me. I kneel in front of her.
“Hi, Mama. It’s me, Delaney.”
