Return by Karen Kingsbury

an insistence that her dead husband was still alive.
    Ashley had framed a dozen old photographs of Hank and hung them on Irvel’s wall. Then, a few months ago, she’d painted a portrait of the man. As manager, she’d been given full control by the owner to continue on with a type of care that allowed Alzheimer patients to live in the past. Past-Present, the method was called.
    Now that no one reminded Irvel that her husband was dead, she’d been much happier. And much healthier. Until today.
    Ashley took quick steps down the hall and into Irvel’s room. The woman was awake, but her face was gaunt and her hands lay limp on the bedspread. Her eyes followed Ashley as she made her way across the floor to the edge of the bed. The air was hot and stale, and tinged with a sick smell.
    “Hi, Irvel. I heard you weren’t feeling so good.” Ashley ran her fingers across Irvel’s forehead and brushed back the wiry fringe of bangs.
    “Yes, dear,” Irvel swallowed, and the effort made her wait a beat before talking again. “Hank…Hank told me to rest for a while.” She managed a lighthearted smile. “So here I am.”
    Ashley glanced at the woman’s nightstand and saw a fresh glass of orange juice. “Are you thirsty, Irvel? Some juice, maybe?”
    Irvel smacked her lips together and made a few swipes with her tongue at the pasty residue near the corners of her mouth. “Yes…that would be lovely, dear. And later maybe some tea.”
    “I brought peppermint tea today.” Ashley held the orange juice close to Irvel and bent the straw so she didn’t have to lift her head off the pillow. “Peppermint’s your favorite, right?”
    Irvel sucked hard on the straw and downed half the glass. She backed away from the straw. Juice trickled down her soft, wrinkled chin, but she made no move to wipe it off. Her eyes grew wide, and she looked at Ashley as if seeing her for the first time. “My goodness, dear. You have lovely hair. Has anyone ever told you that?”
    “Not lately, Irvel.” Ashley snatched a tissue from Irvel’s nightstand and dried her chin. “Thank you for noticing.”
    As quickly as her energy level had peaked, it dropped, and the old woman settled deeper into the pillow. “Can’t understand why I’m so tired.” She peered at Ashley and made an attempt at another smile. “Hank leaves me here to have tea with the girls, and look at me. Too tired to get up.”
    “It’s okay, Irvel. Hank wants you to get some rest.”
    “Yes.” Irvel’s words were slurring now, and she’d be out soon. As long as Ashley had known her, Irvel had been able to fall asleep in seconds when she was tired. “You’re right. Hank likes when I get…” The old woman’s eyes closed, and Ashley smiled at the soft snores.
    She bent over and pressed a feathery kiss on Irvel’s cheek. The woman’s skin was soft and dusty, like the fuzz on a peach. When Ashley drew back, she studied Irvel. She couldn’t be dying, could she? Irvel wasn’t even eighty yet. She had lots of time, right? The woman’s breathing was not quite steady and even slower than usual.
    Before leaving, Ashley took Irvel’s hand in hers and closed her eyes. God, help her pull through this…please. Sunset Hills wouldn’t be the same without her. She laid Irvel’s delicate hand back on the bedspread. “Good night, Irvel. Dream about Hank.”
    The rest of the day Irvel stayed in bed, while the others did more than their usual mumbling and wandering about. Lu, the owner of Sunset Hills, had hired a bookkeeper so Ashley could be with the residents. She enjoyed eating with the ladies and bringing Bert’s lunch to him. She liked helping them with their showers and having tea with them in the afternoon.
    But all day, nothing felt quite right.
    It was Irvel’s absence, of course, but it was more than that. Every few minutes Ashley caught herself thinking thoughts that had nothing to do with work. Why didn’t Landon call more, and what kept him so busy? And what would