Page 78 of Lovingly Restored

Chapter twenty-six

Ashlyn

“C’mon,Mummo,you’rekillingme.”

Another meal that she’s barely touched.

She waves me away. “I’m not hungry.”

I sigh, “You’ve got to have something. How about a nutrition drink? I found the strawberry flavour you love at the store.”

When she shakes her head, I can tell I won’t win this one. The last couple days she’s not had her normal appetite, and her afternoon naps are stretching longer. Her doctor ruled out any serious problems. I set out the things I need to give her a simple manicure. It was my bargaining chip for her having three bites of lunch.

“You choose your colour. I’ll be right back.”

I scrape the uneaten food into the compost. Through the window, I notice Isaac, Chris, Berg, and Dean—the whole group—drinking coffee in folding lawn chairs outside the workshop doors. Isaac’s telling a story with grand gestures and animated facial expressions, and before long they’re all howling. He throws his head back, the deep boom of his laugh reaching me through the glass of the windows.

“That man,” I say, under my breath.

Something about him puts me at ease, a certain relaxed quality that rubs off on me. I try to remember the last time I gave him a hard time about the chore chart. Is he actually doing all the things under the Isaac column? Or do I just not care what time of day the laundry gets done any longer? My things are scattered all over the house, my flowers are growing in the yard, and my affections are expanding unchecked. Not only for Isaac, but for Mummo too.

I scream, jumping several inches off the floor when the landline phone on the wall rings.

“Oh my god.” I cover my hand with my chest as I rush to answer the old phone that I’ve never heard ring.

“Hello?”

A woman clears her throat. “Good afternoon, I’m looking for Mr. Lauri.”

“Can I ask who’s calling?” I lean against the wall by the phone.

“This is Breezy Shores Retirement Home. Is he available?”

“I…”

Retirement home? I glance at Isaac still goofing around and having a good time outside. She must mean Isaac’s dad.

“No. No, he’s not available. Can I take a message?”

With shaking hands, I draw a pen out of my apron pocket and stretch the curling cord of the telephone across the kitchen to grab my notebook.

“Sure. This is Rita from Breezy Shores, like I said, and we’re pleased to inform him we have a spot available for his grandmother. We need the decision right away. These spots get snapped right up. You know how it is.”

She said grandmother. A heavy weight sits in my stomach like I swallowed a rock. I squeak out a goodbye, taking note of the call in a haze. Mummo doesn’t need to move to a retirement home. She has me. I’m…I’m the one who takes care of her. Isaac and I, together. Does he not feel the same way?

“Ashlyn, I’ve made up my mind!” Mummo calls, pulling my attention back.

“C-Coming!”

An hour later I blow on the frosty pink polish, attempting to accelerate the drying time.

“There. Picture perfect.”

“Thank you, sweetie.” Her voice wobbles, and I switch my focus from her fresh manicure to her shining eyes.

“You are so welcome.” I squeeze both her hands.

Ask her. Just ask her if she knows anything about this Breezy Shores place. Surely, Isaac wouldn’t make decisions without her input. He loves her more than anything.

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