Hello Love (16 page)

“No.”

“Okay, what I’d do next is tell Joan he left his gloves or something behind and you don’t know his last name. She might know his name or maybe he paid with a credit card and she can look it up.”

“Not doing it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s manipulative and underhanded and immature. Plus, Joan would just tell me to give the gloves to her, that she’d hold onto them until he came in again.”

Jade was undeterred. “Well, how about this? You call Bodecker’s on Main and ask if Desiree and Dan had a reservation for lunch the day we saw them there. If it’s in his name, then voilà! You’ve got him.”

“Jade, are you even listening to yourself? That’s creepy. Besides, they aren’t going to give out that kind of information.”

“They will if you come up with a good reason.”

“And what would that be?”

“I don’t know. This is your thing, not mine. Help me out here. I can’t be brainstorming all by myself.”

Andrea said, “I think I’ll just see if I run into him again at the coffee shop. If it doesn’t happen, it wasn’t meant to be.”

“It wasn’t meant to be,” Jade said, lightly mimicking. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving it up to the universe to decide. The universe has better things to do. You have to take charge. Make it happen. Do like Martina Dearhart says and open your arms wide and say ‘hello, love!’”

This was Jade at her most exuberant. Andrea could picture her on the other end of the line with arms outstretched and chin lifted heavenward, doing jazz hands. She could be very convincing when she wanted to be. “That’s all well and good,” Andrea said. “But I think I’m going to stick to my plan.”

“Your plan is no plan.”

“And yet,” Andrea said with finality, “it is mine.”

“Well,” Jade said, not even trying to hide the fact she was chewing, “good luck with that.”

THIRTY-ONE

Outside the wind howled under the eaves, keeping Dan awake. Even with Christine gone all this time, he tended to stay on his side of the bed, or at least that’s how he started out when he first settled in for the night. Sometimes he’d wake up in the morning in the middle, covers askew, his arm flung over her pillow as if he had been holding her in a dream.

Other times, like tonight, he felt her presence so strongly it was as if he could reach out and touch her. The energy and warmth emanating from her side was exactly as it had been when she was alive. Once, half-asleep, he actually slipped his hand under the covers and let it drift over, half expecting to feel her there, to be able to caress her palm the way he used to, but she wasn’t there, of course. He never made that mistake again, but when he got the sense she was there in those moments between wakefulness and sleep, he found himself talking to her, whispering the way they always had. He felt better afterward, talking about his troubles, foolishly hoping Christine had actually heard him.

Sometimes he talked about work, but most of the time it was about Lindsay. Nothing major, just basic parenting issues like the fact that she wanted to stay out all night after the prom. All of her friends were going to a party at one of her girlfriends’ houses, and then the whole group planned to go out for breakfast in the morning. Lindsay had argued she’d be going off to college in the fall and then he’d have no idea how late she stayed out. When Lindsay presented it that way, it sounded reasonable. Was one night now so different from the freedom she’d have next September? He didn’t think so, but he wished he could run it past his wife. She always had such a good take on things.

Sometimes, after having one of these one-sided discussions, Dan woke up knowing the answer to his questions. Did Christine have a hand in that, or was it his subconscious at work? He wished there was a way to know for sure.

That night, listening to the soft moan of the wind, something different was on his mind. It troubled him that he’d felt a connection to Andrea, the woman he’d run into in the coffee shop. He liked her. And while they had sat across from each other at the table, everything around them fell away. The background noise, the other people—none of it mattered. It was just them and there was nowhere else he wanted to be. Surreal, in a way.

He couldn’t put his finger on what it was about her that affected him this way. True, she was pretty without being flashy, easy to talk to, and had a ready smile. But it was more than that. Andrea seemed familiar, and not just from seeing her in the parking lot at Bodecker’s on Main. There was an immediate comfort level with her. He knew from past experience this was not a common thing. It wasn’t just that he was lonely (which, in fact, he was, although he’d deny it if anyone brought up the subject), because he didn’t feel this way about everyone. That Desiree, for example. He’d have to be the last man on the planet to welcome her presence in his life and even then he’d want to live in separate houses. And not in the same neighborhood even. No, it was more than simply being lonely. There was something about Andrea, something he couldn’t put into words.

Dan had even felt a surge of jealousy when that other guy showed up, the loudmouth Jethro who’d barged in like he owned the place. The only thing that made him feel better was Andrea’s reaction. She wasn’t all that happy to see the guy and she looked somewhat wistful that Dan was leaving. He felt that way too.

And that was the problem, the conflict that raged inside of him. He couldn’t be attracted to another woman because he still felt married to Christine. It was so odd that she was no longer his wife, because they hadn’t gotten divorced, never even talked about separating. Ever. They’d been happily married, rarely argued, still enjoyed each other’s company right to the end. She never once got on his nerves to the point where he wished her gone. The fact that she was ripped out of his life was a tragedy. He was not single by choice, and yet he was indeed single, because he was alone. He’d been left behind.

He whispered, “Christine?” His voice melted into the darkness, and he went on. “Christine, I miss you.” Outside the howling had subsided to a low moan. It would be a bad night to be stuck outdoors. “Lindsay will be gone in a few months, and I’ll be alone in this house. I don’t know how I’m going to deal with that. How am I supposed to go on without you?” He waited, taking a deep breath. “Would you mind so much if I had someone else in my life? No one could be like you, I kno
w . . .
” A lump formed in his throat. This was insane, he thought, this talking to himself. He was getting all worked up, and for what?

A sign, he’d give anything for a sign, but he knew life didn’t work that way. He was on his own. He sighed and the wind outside echoed the sound. Dan lay there for a long time, thinking about how he would live his life going forward. Drowsiness washed over him and he felt himself sinking comfortably into the mattress until at last he was asleep.

THIRTY-TWO

The next day after work, Andrea found herself singing along to the radio as she drove to visit her grandmother. Anni sat comfortably on the passenger seat, her nose pointed at Andrea instead of the view out the window. Andrea found herself talking to Anni in a high-pitched, silly voice. She had no idea where this voice came from. One day it was just there.

She reached over and gave Anni a pat. “Are we going to see Gram? Oh yes we are, oh yes we are.” Anni’s ears perked up, responding to the inflection in Andrea’s voice. “She’s going to love seeing you again, my beautiful baby.”

After pulling into the parking lot at the nursing home, Andrea snapped the leash onto Anni’s collar and led her across the parking lot. Anni had developed a distaste for wet, slushy snow and walked carefully, pulling her feet up in an exaggerated way, like she was walking on hot coals. “I don’t like it any more than you do,” Andrea said, coaxing her along. Of course, people didn’t have to actually walk barefoot in the snow, so it wasn’t the same thing at all. Anni’s feet had to be freezing and wet. Maybe, she thought, it was time to get some of those little doggie boots she’d always thought were so ridiculous. Funny how different the view looked from the other side of the fence.

Once past the glass doors, Andrea recognized the older lady with the silver bouffant hair who sat behind the counter. She’d been the one who’d made a big fuss over Anni the last time they’d visited. Today she had a phone against her ear, and one finger held up to indicate she’d be right with the older gentleman who stood waiting in front of her. Her face showed a flash of recognition upon spotting Anni and Andrea, and she smiled and waved them through without making them sign in.

Everywhere they went, they got star treatment, Andrea thought. Who knew having a dog elevated a person’s status to that extent? In the elevator, Anni stood facing the door, like she knew how this was going to go. When the doors slid open, she scampered out, immediately evoking comments from people in the hallway.

“Hey there, little doggie!”

“Look at that cute puppy.”

“Aww.”

A white-haired woman parked in a wheelchair outside her doorway stopped Andrea to ask, “Can I pet her?” and when given permission, reached down to tentatively touch the top of Anni’s head. “Oh so soft,” she said. “So sweet.” Andrea, who had planned to go right to Gram’s room, felt the urgency fall away and stayed rooted to the spot. She crouched down next to the woman’s chair. “She likes you,” she offered. “You seem to have a knack for petting her in just the right spot.” The woman’s hands were gnarled, the veins evident through papery skin, and her movements were shaky, but she managed to pet Anni’s head with short strokes. For her part, Anni sat still, as if she knew.

After a few minutes, Andrea got up and patted the woman’s hand. “We have to go, but I’m glad we got a chance to visit with you.” The woman nodded, not saying anything, but when Andrea glanced back, she was waving to them with trembling fingers.

This was a good thing, sharing the joy of having a pet. And such a simple thing to do. When Andrea got to Gram’s room, the door was open. Still, she knocked on the doorframe before coming in. “Gram?” she said.

A young woman in scrubs sat on the bed facing her grandmother, who was sitting in the recliner with her arms raised toward the ceiling like she was surrendering. Both of them turned to look when Andrea walked in.

“Did I come at a bad time?” Andrea asked.

The young woman shook her head, making her dreadlocks shiver. “Just finishing up her PT. I was putting Mrs. Keller through her exercises. We’ve got to stay limber, you know.” She stood up and gently guided Gram’s hands down to her lap. “We can wrap up early, Mrs. Keller, since you’ve got a visitor.”

As she walked past Andrea, the physical therapist reached down to give Anni a pat. “What a sweetie,” she said.

“She seems to have a fan club here,” Andrea said.

“Just keep bringing her back.” She stood up and Andrea saw that her name badge had “Alicia Banks” printed under her photo. “The residents really seem to respond to animals, especially calm dogs like this one.”

After the woman left the room, Andrea brought Anni around to the other side of Gram’s bed. “Hey, Gram.”

Her grandmother blinked before smiling. “Hi, honey.”

“I brought my dog Anni again to see you. Remember, I brought her with me last time?”

“Sure I remember.”

That was the frustrating thing about conversations with Gram. She was so agreeable that it was hard to tell if she actually remembered or was just playing along. At least she wasn’t argumentative like so many people with impaired memories. It was a small consolation.

Gram reached down to touch Anni’s head, patting her awkwardly. “Aren’t you a sweet doggie.”

Andrea glanced over to see that the bed on the other side of the room was no longer there. “Your roommate’s not here. Did she get transferred?”

Gram followed Andrea’s eyes and looked over for a second, but didn’t say anything. The woman had either died or had been moved to the hospice wing. Gram didn’t know or didn’t want to say.

“Can I carry her?” Gram said, crooking a finger at Anni. Carry her? Andrea was sure this was one of those times when words got muddled in her head.

“You want to hold her? On your lap?” She asked. When Gram nodded, she went to pull the crank so that the chair would lean back, then lifted Anni up onto her grandmother’s lap. At just over thirty pounds Anni was no lightweight, but she didn’t struggle when Andrea picked her up, which made it easier.

Gram closed her eyes and rested her hand on Anni’s back. Today, Gram looked tidy, with her hair neatly combed, wearing knit pants and a matching button-down top. Not too different from how she always looked, aside from her hair color. It made Andrea miss the old Gram, the one who used to give her advice, the grandmother with whom she could have a lively conversation. Gram always loved a good laugh, but this new grandmother, the one with holes in her memory, was a different version of the original. Still a sweet woman, but she’d lost her sparkle. Gram opened her eyes, looking surprised to have a dog on her lap. “Will you look at that!” she said. “Such a sweet little thing.”

“That’s my dog, Anni.”

Gram nodded. “I haven’t had a little one like this in a long time.”

“Yeah, it’s been awhile.” Being agreeable was key.

When Gram seemed to lose interest, Andrea lifted the dog off her lap and set Anni back on the floor. Anni snuffled over to the corner, her nose to the ground. Whatever scent trail she was on, it kept her happily occupied. Andrea suddenly remembered how she had planned to prompt her grandmother’s memory. “Gram, remember when you gave me your ring? The one Grandpa gave you?”

She was quiet for a long time, processing the words. Finally she said, “My ring,” twisting her finger like she was just now noticing that she no longer wore it.

“Yes, the ring Grandpa Fred gave you? Do you remember?”

“Of course I remember.”

Did she remember Grandpa Fred or did she remember the ring, or both? Or was it none of the above, and she was just being agreeable? Andrea didn’t know, would probably never know, but she plowed forward. “You gave me your ring for safekeeping, and for a while it was at my old house, but now I have it again.” Andrea snapped open her purse and pulled out the jeweler’s box. “See?” She got out the ring and held it out for her grandmother.

“My ring!” she said happily, taking it from Andrea.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I had it cleaned and it’s as beautiful as the day Grandpa gave it to you.”

“The night,” Grandma said, her head bobbing up and down.

“Excuse me?”

“Fred gave it to me at night.” She smiled. “The moon was out.”

“You remember when Grandpa Fred gave you the ring?” Andrea asked cautiously.

Her grandmother clutched the ring in her hand. “We went dancing. We danced and danced like the only people in the world. And we went outside and then he took a box out of his pocket.”

“This box?” Andrea held it up.

Gram continued as if Andrea hadn’t spoken. “He said, ‘I want you to be my wife and I promise I will love you forever.
’
”

Andrea found herself holding her breath. Sometimes it happened like this, but you never could predict the timing. It was as if there were a tear in the fabric holding back Gram’s memories and she was able to unexpectedly access them on occasion. “And he did love you forever,” Andrea said.

“Oh, I miss him.” She put her clenched fist up to her heart. “I miss him so badly.”

“I know. I do too.”

Anni returned from her exploring and, as if sensing she was needed, rested her head by Gram’s feet. Andrea sighed and leaned over to rub her knuckles over the dog’s back. “Grandpa Fred was a good man. You were lucky. I hope I find someone who will love me forever.”

Gram said, “You did.”

“What?”

“You did find him to love you.”

Andrea’s heart sunk. She sat up to meet her grandmother’s eyes. “Oh no, Gram, I’m not with Marco anymore. I’m sorry to say we got divorced.” Gram had been at Andrea and Marco’s wedding, looking smart in a lovely lavender dress with a matching hat. This had been after Grandpa had died, but before her slip into dementia. Her grandmother had danced all night and had been one of the last ones to leave the reception. Was it possible Gram actually remembered Andrea and Marco’s wedding day and all that came with it—the vows, the celebration? What had once been the happiest day of a young bride’s life? Now Andrea couldn’t bear to even look at the pictures. Marco’s betrayal had turned it into a sham.

“No.” Gram shook her head. “Not Marco.”

Andrea looked down at Anni and wondered if her grandmother was referring to the dog. Certainly Anni’s love was guaranteed, but that wasn’t what they’d been talking about. “Do you mean Anni? That she’ll love me forever?”

But her grandmother was gone now, having receded back into herself. The old woman settled against the chair’s headrest and closed her eyes. Her thin lips mouthed words Andrea couldn’t hear and then stopped, staying slightly parted. In a few seconds’ time, she’d dozed off. The memory of her proposal had worn her out, or maybe it was the physical therapy. Andrea gently unfolded her grandmother’s hand from around the ring and kissed her cheek. “I’m going to just put this somewhere safe for you,” she said. “Okay?” Even as she snapped the jewelry box shut, her grandmother didn’t stir. “Good-bye, Gram,” she said. “Sweet dreams.”

Andrea tiptoed out of the room, but Anni was not quite so considerate. The only sound as they left the room was the clicking of Anni’s toenails on the linoleum.