Page 44 of Delay of Game
“We’ll leave,” I said. “We’re not going to do anything to upset her.”
“Okay. This is fine. This will be fine.”
Before she talked herself out of the visit, I pushed open the driver’s side door and stepped out into the mid-morning heat.
Empty rocking chairs peppered the wraparound porch surrounding the brick building. A man in scrubs followed a woman pushing a walker as she made her way around the porch, stopping at intervals to admire the flowers cascading out of hanging planters.
Astrid exited the car, drawing her shoulders back and plastering a tight smile on her face. She clung to a pink box filled with cannoli, her Aunt Mercy’s favorite from a bakery downtown.
“Good morning, Ms. Evans,” a woman in pink scrubs greeted us as we walked into the building.
“Good morning, Brenda.” Astrid shot her a shy smile as she signed us in. “This is my friend, Rob.”
“Nice to meet you, Rob,” Brenda greeted me with a bright, open smile. “You two have a great visit.”
I’d never been to a nursing home before, let alone one specifically for people with memory loss. I envisioned locked doors and soulless white hallways. A complete contrast to the airy living area just beyond the desk, with wooden floors, floor-to-ceiling bookcases, and even a pool table. Patients and staff mingled around the main room as Astrid searched for her aunt.
“Oh! Aunt Mercy!” Astrid gripped my elbow, drawing me toward a woman playing solitaire on a small oak table from a plush recliner.
She dragged her eyes from the game to us, eyes narrowing in confusion. I spotted the similarities immediately: the ski slope nose, the round cheeks, the mint green eyes. Her expression cleared when those eyes locked on mine.
I held out a hand. “Hi, Aunt Mercy. I’m R–”
“Jimmy. I didn’t know you were in town!” She stood up, gripping the recliner with one hand, unsteady on her feet. I took her elbow to steady her as she pulled me into a hug. “You’ve gotten so big!”
A plume of perfume enveloped me as she pulled me tight. Astrid’s face shuttered, her fake smile drooping into a tight line. Aunt Mercy released me enough to pull back, her eyes searching my body. “I can’t believe Kathy didn’t tell me you’d be here.”
“Aunt Mercy.” Astrid touched her aunt’s shoulder, drawing her attention away from me. “That’s not Jimmy. This is my friend, Rob. I’m Gracie, your niece.”
“Oh.” Mercy cocked her head. “You must be confused. I don’t have a niece.”
Astrid’s mouth twitched. “You do. Your sister, Linda, got married and had a little girl, Alice. And Alice had two children: Jackson and Gracie. I’m Gracie.”
“You must be mistaken.” Aunt Mercy’s laugh pitched up as her hands rested on my chest. “Now, if you don’t mind letting Jimmy and I catch up.”
Astrid’s lips flattened, tears prickling the corner of her eyes. “Right. Of course. Do you mind if I sit with you while I wait for my aunt?”
Mercy eyed Astrid suspiciously.
“Of course. That’d be great,” I said, forcing unnatural levity into my voice. Aunt Mercy didn’t seem to notice. “We’d love for you to join us. What do you have there?”
I sat down, and Mercy and Astrid followed suit. Astrid set the box on the table. “Cannoli. Do you like cannoli?”
“Love ‘em,” I said.
“I suppose I’ll have one,” Aunt Mercy said, glaring at Astrid as she opened the box. Cannoli in hand, Mercy shifted in toward me, blocking Astrid from the conversation. “Jimmy, tell me about Chicago. I want to hear all about it.”
“Boring,” I scrambled, my attention split between the two women. “I’d rather hear about you. Tell me about your new place. How do you like it here?”
Mercy sniffed, surveying the room with her nose upturned. “It’s fine. Not as nice as my house.”
Astrid’s head dipped, and her shoulders heaved. I reached under the table, gripping her hand. “Have you made any new friends?”
“A few. Maude lives next door. She’s nice. Also, Dot. She’s a little forgetful but means well.”
“And are they keeping you busy? It looks like there’s a lot of activity going on.”
A tear rolled down Astrid’s cheek, and my chest tightened.
