When I arrived at the nursing home, I wanted to go straight inside and sit with Shelby. I had no illusions I would ever get another chance after tonight, so I yearned to spend as much time as possible with her before I had to leave. She probably wouldn’t know who I was. Even if she did, she wouldn’t remember it tomorrow. She wouldn’t remember it an hour after I left.
But I would. When Rudy did the inevitable, I would be thinking of holding her hand, listening to her talk, kissing her head, and saying goodnight. Whether she heard it or remembered it, I wanted to go to my grave having told her one more time that I loved her.
I had obligations to take care of all my loved ones. So few were left in my life, but I had to take care of the ones that were. Because I had to think of the others, I sat fidgeting in my car in the parking lot of the nursing home, watching the day-shift employees come out of the side entrance of the building in twos and threes, laughing and joking as they walked to their cars. Each time the door swung open, I held my breath, waiting on the right one, wondering if my target had the day off or was working late. I should have called first, but I wanted our conversation to appear accidental, almost an afterthought.
To my relief, Bobby appeared at the exit door with a satchel in his hand, whistling as he walked across the asphalt. When he was only a few car lengths away, I got out of my car, trying to look as casual as possible. Our eyes met, and I acted surprised to bump into him.
“Headed in for your dinner date?” Bobby asked.
“Yeah. Never miss.”
“Almost did. Food carts are already making their rounds. You’re running later than normal.”
“Got busy and lost track of time.” The lie slipped easily from my lips.
“Busy?” Bobby raised an eyebrow. “I can’t wait until I retire. Sitting around with the rest of you, shooting the breeze at Abe’s and then fishing all day.” His eyes went wide, and his face paled. “Oh my God. I’m such an idiot. I heard this afternoon about what happened to C.J. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” I waved my hand in dismissal. “I have a favor to ask of you.”
“More money to give away?”
“No. Nothing like that.” I kicked at a pebble in the parking lot, nervous about his reaction to my question. “You have a couple of old hounds, right?”
Puzzlement spread across Bobby’s face. “Yeah?”
“You know I have one too.”
“Belle? She’s not sick, is she?”
“No. She’s fine. Just old, but she’s a good dog. I was just wondering…” I swallowed and raised my eyes. Time to plunge ahead. “C.J. and I had a deal. If anything ever happened to me, he’d take her and make sure she lived a good life. With him gone…”
“You want me to take her if something happens to you?”
“Yeah.”
Bobby cocked his head. “What about Wyatt? Wouldn’t it be easier on her to stay in the house with him?”
Good question. I had been so focused on my plan, I hadn’t even thought about others not understanding everything. Maybe this gave me an opportunity to plant seeds to explain Wyatt’s pending disappearance. Lemonade out of lemons. “He’s finished with his apprenticeship and has his electrician’s license. Lots of building going on, and he’s had job offers. Out of town. Since he didn’t grow up here, those bigger cities appeal to him. Anyway, we’ve talked a lot about it, and he’s probably moving soon. Might even happen this week.”
“Isn’t he going to C.J.’s funeral?”
So many questions. So many good ones. Why hadn’t I planned out this conversation better? “You know how jobs go. If he doesn’t take it right away, it might not be there.”
“Yeah, I understand.” Bobby nodded, but his eyes were clouded with doubt. “Of course I’ll take Belle if Wyatt isn’t around. I love dogs. You know that.”
“I do. That’s why I asked. Thanks.”
I turned to walk away, but Bobby’s hand on my elbow stopped me. “You’re okay, aren’t you? You look kind of tired. You aren’t sick or something?”
“I’m fine.”
Bobby looked around the parking lot to make sure we were alone. He lowered his voice. “It’s just asking me to take care of Belle and then giving away the money the other day. Those are the kinds of things someone does if they think they aren’t going to be around long.”
“No, nothing like that.”
“We see that here. People come and just give up. Some even try to speed things along. With C.J. dying and Wyatt leaving, I know that’s a lot on you. If you need something…”
He thought I was suicidal, and I wanted to protest how untrue that was, but wasn’t I? I was going to offer to trade my life for Wyatt’s. What else would you call that but suicide? The lying was getting complicated. I put on my best smile and hoped it look real. “I’m fine. Tired, yeah, and sad, but I’m okay. With C.J. dying and Wyatt moving, just made me realize I needed to make sure Belle was okay if something happened to me.”
Bobby studied me for a minute and then nodded. “I’ll take her if something happens.”
“Thanks. You’re a good friend.” We shook hands, and I walked toward the nursing home entrance.
Teresa offered her condolences about C.J. the moment I entered the dementia unit. In small towns, news travels fast. Bad news travels faster.
The nurse then gave me something positive. “Shelby is having one of her better days. She’s been engaging with others, good spirits, and lots of memories.”
Finally, some good news, though I kept my excitement in check as I crossed the large room. We had noticed early on her dementia path the curse of sundowners, the declining of a person as the day turned to evening. She was more likely to forget things or to be easily upset late in the day. Our years-long habit of sitting on the porch, watching the sunset, had been increasingly curtailed in her last years at home as she had often forgotten who I was during that time. I’d lost count of the number of times she was my wife while the sun was in the sky but a complete stranger by the time it was dark.
Fearing the moment of clarity had already faded for the day, I approached the couch with some trepidation. She looked up from her seat in front of the TV, confusion clouding her face. I swallowed my disappointment and said, “Good evening, darling.”
She cocked her head to the side and opened her mouth, but then she hesitated. She studied me as her mouth drew closed again. Her face brightened as the fog lifted and her smile spread. She patted the couch beside her and said, “Purvis, it’s good to see you, hon.”
Her recognition of me drove warmth through my body. It was hard to describe to someone who hadn’t dealt with this disease how much it meant that she knew who I was. Moments like this were a rebirth of sorts, a resurrection of a loved one you thought had been lost. I settled beside her and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’re looking good today.”
She blushed, her eyes twinkling. “You’re so sweet. I know better, but thank you. Not exactly a beauty parlor here in the nursing home.”
“I think you’re gorgeous.”
“And I think you have a silver tongue.” She playfully pushed against my arm. “You remember talking your way past my father to ask me to the movies that first time.”
I squeezed her hand. “You asked me what movie was showing, and I had no idea.”
Her melodic laugh floated to my ears. “That’s how I knew you liked me. And the way you always treated me like a queen, holding the door for me in that old car of yours.”
“You are my queen. And that old car was your limo.”
“Some limo.” She laughed again, the sound healthy and strong. “But it’s all I ever needed. That, and you, of course.”
I knew that was a lie. Maybe she didn’t remember her affair with Horace. Maybe she didn’t remember keeping his letters long after the affair was over—or, at least, long after I thought it was over.
But sometimes a lie is okay. We may have started out more as friends than lovers. We’d certainly had our rough patches. We’d made mistakes. We certainly could have done better for Jessica. But I couldn’t change any of that.
I threaded my fingers through hers and held her hand as she rested her head on my shoulder. I kissed the top of her head and said, “I love you.”
She looked up at me and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “I love you too, Purvis Webb.”