| |
Shirlene
As I step off the hospital elevator, Hattie is coming out of Stan’s room. She carries herself with her usual posture perfected from years of ballet training. With her hair in a tight bun, Hattie looks as if she’s entering the stage, the prima ballerina, especially when she’s gearing up for a challenge. As an African American woman, she’s faced plenty of them. There’s nowhere for me to escape, so I hurry toward her, hoping she doesn’t wait to see if I go into Stan’s room. I glance her way and smile. She tips her head quickly the same way I’ve seen her do a million times since she was a girl. Her eyes are red from crying. It takes all my strength not to bundle her up in my arms and tell her who I am.
She pauses. For a split second, I worry she’s reading my mind, which would be no surprise. I purposely go past Stan’s room and slip around the corner at the end of the hall. I can’t believe I’m hiding from my dearest friend, but the hospital is not the place to tell her I’m alive in a twenty-year-old’s body. After waiting several minutes, I step out and march back toward 410. There’s no sign of Hattie.
Stan’s face is strained. He immediately blurts out, “I’m being released tomorrow.”
“We have it all worked out.” I pat his arm.
“We?”
“I.”
His eyes narrow the way they do whenever he anticipates some harebrained plan of mine.
I go into my lousy imitation of Ricky Ricardo. “You got a lot a ’splaining to do, Lucy.”
He smiles. My heart surges with love. I wonder how many days we have left together. If I’d been more patient, I would be with Danny now, waiting.
“What’s the plan, Red?”
“I’m taking you home. We have a hospice interview later today. They should be able to set up someone to come and monitor your care and keep you comfortable.”
“They’ll let you take me home?” he asks.
“Once they want you out, they don’t really care about who or how. Remember, I told the social worker I’m your sister’s great-great-granddaughter.”
“That’s what I told Hattie. I’m not sure she bought it.” Stan furrows his eyebrows. “You must have just missed her.”
“No, I didn’t. We passed in the hall. She’ll be suspicious, but I’ll tell her the truth as soon as I can talk to her alone.”
“It can’t be too long because I plan to have Hattie draw up a new will leaving everything to you—I mean, Rain DeLuca. She’s the only lawyer I trust. That way, you’ll be taken care of.”
“Let’s concentrate on getting you settled first.”
Stan grimaces. “The house is a mess.”
“I’m going to hire a cleaning service. Cam can be there to let them in and make sure they are legitimate.”
Despite my reassurances, I notice his jaw tighten. Stan has never allowed anyone in the house without one of us being there. He could be tense over the cleaning people or Cam or both.
I proceed carefully. “Stan, this baby needs her mother, and for some reason, it’s me.”
“The baby is staying in our house?”
“Of course she is. Where else could she be?”
“With this guy.”
“Cam is staying with us too.”
“You must be joking. We’ll never be alone together.”
“Cam and the baby are staying in the den downstairs. We will have the entire second floor to ourselves.”
He crosses his arms. “Why can’t he stay at his place?”
I use Cameron’s words. “It’s a package deal. He goes where the baby goes, and I want Arlene with us. With me.”
“You named the baby after your grandmother?” he shouts.
“Sh. Cam named her after his paternal grandmother. But what if I did name her after Grandmom? What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing.” Stan’s face is becoming red with frustration.
I stamp my foot. “No, tell me.”
“It indicates you’re making her your own.” He seems to struggle for the right words. “This isn’t temporary.”
I long to yell she is mine. But I must avoid distressing him any more than he already is.
“So this guy thinks he can move in with us and freeload,” he continues.
“Cam wants to help. He’s offered to food shop and cook.”
“Doesn’t he have a job?”
“He’s a history teacher. He has the summer off.”
“Why is he doing this?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he’s a nice guy.”
“Humph.”
“We’re both tired,” I say. “It’s been a lot to digest. I’m going to go down to the lounge and make some calls while we wait for the hospice nurse.”
Stan gives in. He’s too sick to argue. “You manage everything. You always do.” He yawns.
I kiss his forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I slip into the hall. I take out the smartphone Cameron gave me and immediately feel stupid. While we ate lunch, I only learned how to phone him. Otherwise, I’m useless on this thing.
Cam answers quickly and asks how things are going.
I’m surprised to find I’m more grounded when I hear his voice. “I saw Hattie when I got off the elevator.”
“And...?”
I take a seat on one of the pale-green upholstered chairs in the empty lounge. “I wanted to tell her I’m alive.”
“You’ll know when the time is right.”
“Sooner rather than later because Stan plans to have her change his will to benefit me, as Rain. Hattie will have to be told it’s really me, or she’ll fight with Stan about it.”
“I thought she was a retired trial lawyer.”
“Hattie will never retire, but ten years ago, she shifted to part-time estate, family, and civil rights law.”
“Doesn’t sound like she’s slowed down any.” Cam chuckles. He has a nice laugh.
A middle-aged woman glances in the lounge but leaves when she notices I’m on the phone.
“Stan’s being released tomorrow, but in all these years of hospital stays, they’ve never cut him loose until the afternoon. He is so miserable waiting.”
“I don’t blame him. Once they say you can go, you want to move the hell out of there.”
It hits me how empathetic Cameron is. If I can assure my husband that Rain and Cam weren’t in a relationship, it might help Stan to accept this young man and his intentions. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”
“Go ahead.”
“Are you and Rain a couple?”
“No! Oh God, no.” His voice bears shock bordering on distaste.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You haven’t. You just took me by surprise. I figured you knew we weren’t involved because we were sleeping in different rooms.”
I’m embarrassed to tell him I’m relieved they aren’t together.
He continues. “And there’s no telling if Rain was going to stay after the baby was born.”
“Who would help you? What about Chase? Are your parents nearby?”
He snorts. “My brother wrote off the baby as soon as Rain told him she was pregnant. And my parents are very busy with their real estate business in LA.”
“Haven’t you told them? I’d certainly need to know.”
“They aren’t you, believe me. Besides, they don’t deserve to know, but I’ll tell them eventually, I suppose.”
I wonder what they’ve done to be undeserving of their son’s generous empathy and the knowledge of their granddaughter. I remember that when I suggested we name the baby after his mother, he looked at me as if I were crazy. There’s a story there, but I don’t press. Soon, we will all be cohabitating, and I’ll come to understand this young man better.