Improvisation by Karis Walsh Page B

that was making her seem so open and friendly. She figured it was simply the effect of memories, drawn close to the surface by the nostalgia of the place.
    “She said there were gold birdcages hanging in the arches, and each one had a colored parakeet in it. And there were bellmen who wore burgundy uniforms with gold braid and little boxy hats, and sometimes one of them would take out a parakeet and have it sing for her. And up there”—Tina pointed to the center balustrade, but Jan didn’t follow the gesture. She couldn’t take her eyes off Tina, but she could see the room transformed through the two generations of stories—“there was a glass case with a stuffed polar bear inside. I used to have dreams about that bear coming to get me, and I’d ride on his back to the Arctic.”
    “And now you’re back.”
    Tina returned to the present, her voice taking on an edgy quality. “Now I’m back. And I’m still waiting for that damned bear to rescue me.”
    “You don’t seem surprised to see me here.”
    “I figured you wouldn’t be able to resist my charms for long,” Tina said with a laugh. “Plus, I knew you’d get in touch with me sooner or later about backing out of the whole prom thing.”
    “You’re right about the second one, at least,” Jan said. She might have some trouble with the first, but she would manage to resist. She had to. Life was shaky enough without adding an unsettling, temporary affair to the mix. “But it’s not why I’m here. I’ve come to offer you a place to live while you’re in town.”
    Tina stared at Jan while she decided how to respond. Move in with Jan? No way. But for a very brief moment she wanted to say okay and drag Jan out the door. She could come back for her things later. “A couple days ago you sounded afraid to meet me alone in my hotel’s lobby, but now you’re asking me to move in with you? I must have been extra charming last night.”
    “Not with me,” Jan said, enunciating each word clearly, as if she wanted to leave no doubt in Tina’s mind about her intentions. “And, trust me, you weren’t even moderately charming. But my dad hurt his shoulder, so he’ll be staying with me for a few weeks, at least. He said you could use his apartment. It’s only a fifteen-minute drive from your cousin’s place, so you’d have an easy commute.”
    Tina felt a wave of relief at the suggestion. The prospect of searching for housing had been unpleasant, and she didn’t know what she’d have to settle for since she wasn’t signing a long-term lease. “Wow, that’d be great. I’ll pay rent, of course.”
    “Well, instead of rent, I was hoping you might do a favor for me. And for my dad.”
    Tina watched Jan shift in her chair, and she looked like she was chewing the inside of her lip. Tina wondered if this had something to do with her dad’s sickness Jan had mentioned the night before, when she’d shown similar signs of tension and worry. Tina leaned forward and gave Jan’s knee an awkward squeeze. “Hey, what is it? What do you need?”
    Instead of reassuring Jan, Tina’s gesture seemed to upset her more. Her eyes reddened as if she was about to cry, and Tina had the sinking feeling she was about to say yes to any favor Jan asked. But only because Brooke and Andy would expect her to help, of course.
    “My dad might have early onset Alzheimer’s. His symptoms are still slight, and very manageable, but his doctor made a few suggestions about keeping his mind active. He said things like looking at pictures or listening to familiar music would help keep his memories intact longer.”
    Tina let her hand rest gently on Jan’s knee again. Jan would have to watch her father slowly forget the life they’d shared. Tina remembered the deep loneliness she’d felt after losing her mother. But she had never doubted that her mom remembered and cherished their time together.
    “How can I help?” Tina asked. I’ll do anything , she meant. This time, she