is he up to? Why does he want me to play hostess? Is this really part of the job? Or does he have another scheme in mind? I’m so far out to sea I don’t even know where the shore lies. One thing is certain, though. He’s my boss, and I’m his employee. I can never, ever cross that line.
Chapter 8
______________
Sterling
SATURDAY MORNING, I head for my obligatory monthly visit at the assisted living facility. As always, I’m warmly welcomed. No surprise. I not only pay the bills on time, but donate generously as well.
Bobby, my driver, settles down in the lobby to watch mindless TV while a staff member escorts me to the room where the woman who gave birth to me resides. “Thank you,” I say. That’s the staff member’s cue to leave. I enter the room alone. Per my request, she waits for me, seated in her favorite chair. My vision might be impaired, but that much I can tell.
“Hello, Mother.”
As always, silence greets me. Don’t know why I always hope for something different. She has no clue who I am. She stares out the window, like she always used to do, waiting for my father to come home. Except he never will again.
“I brought your favorite chocolates.” A box of confectioner’s truffles, her favorites. Taking the number of steps I’ve memorized to her bed, I leave them there for her.
“That’s very sweet of you, dear.”
She doesn’t call out that endearment because I’m someone special to her. She calls everyone dear, much as she did before when she possessed all her faculties. And now? Her memories are not returning. Alzheimer’s has robbed them from her. Just as well. I wouldn’t want her to live with the pain my father’s death caused. Most of her adult life, she’d adored the tall, brash man who exuded charm and confidence. Until he’d lost it all in one disastrous scheme and put paid to his life. After that, she disappeared into a shell. The doctors diagnosed it as Alzheimer’s. But I know better. I call it grief.
Five minutes into my visit, Linda, my mother’s private nurse, drops by. “Here’s your cup of tea, Mr. MacKay.” She hands me the oolong tea my mother prefers.
I’ve never cared for it, but I accept the courtesy for what it is. “Thank you.” I’ve surrounded my mother with the best of care. Round-the-clock medical staff. A live-in companion who watches her 24/7 and makes sure my mother engages in the social activities she still enjoys—card games and such—and gets her exercise. Wish I could do more.
After she serves my mother her own cup and makes sure she’s comfortable, Linda departs. She knows I prefer to be alone with my mother. In silent companionship, we occupy the same space until it’s time for me to leave. After the allotted half hour, her companion returns. But before she guides me back to the lobby, there’s one thing I must do.
With Linda’s help, I find my way to my mother, embrace her and kiss her softly on the cheek. “See you next month, Mother.”
“Yes, dear.” Her voice holds neither joy nor regret. Like every damn time I say goodbye to her.
“You done, Mr. McK?” Bobby greets me at the lobby. I met him at one of the stock car races. He’s in his early thirties, same as me, and had grown disillusioned with the racing circuit. After my accident, he was one of the few who visited me at the hospital and managed not to feel sorry for me. Before I was discharged I asked if he’d like to be my chauffeur. He’d jumped at the chance of a steady salary and regular meals. I thought he’d grow bored with the life, but he’s fallen for Rose, one of the maids. According to Moseley, they are saving money to marry someday.
We ride back home in silence until the phone rings. “Hello.”
“Mr. MacKay?” Caitlyn. Her voice quivers. Wonder what disaster has struck now.
I take a deep breath. It feels like the first I’ve taken today. “Yes, Ms. Bennett.”
“Ummm, one of the guests is sick with the flu.”
“Which one?”
“A
Chapter 8
______________
Sterling
SATURDAY MORNING, I head for my obligatory monthly visit at the assisted living facility. As always, I’m warmly welcomed. No surprise. I not only pay the bills on time, but donate generously as well.
Bobby, my driver, settles down in the lobby to watch mindless TV while a staff member escorts me to the room where the woman who gave birth to me resides. “Thank you,” I say. That’s the staff member’s cue to leave. I enter the room alone. Per my request, she waits for me, seated in her favorite chair. My vision might be impaired, but that much I can tell.
“Hello, Mother.”
As always, silence greets me. Don’t know why I always hope for something different. She has no clue who I am. She stares out the window, like she always used to do, waiting for my father to come home. Except he never will again.
“I brought your favorite chocolates.” A box of confectioner’s truffles, her favorites. Taking the number of steps I’ve memorized to her bed, I leave them there for her.
“That’s very sweet of you, dear.”
She doesn’t call out that endearment because I’m someone special to her. She calls everyone dear, much as she did before when she possessed all her faculties. And now? Her memories are not returning. Alzheimer’s has robbed them from her. Just as well. I wouldn’t want her to live with the pain my father’s death caused. Most of her adult life, she’d adored the tall, brash man who exuded charm and confidence. Until he’d lost it all in one disastrous scheme and put paid to his life. After that, she disappeared into a shell. The doctors diagnosed it as Alzheimer’s. But I know better. I call it grief.
Five minutes into my visit, Linda, my mother’s private nurse, drops by. “Here’s your cup of tea, Mr. MacKay.” She hands me the oolong tea my mother prefers.
I’ve never cared for it, but I accept the courtesy for what it is. “Thank you.” I’ve surrounded my mother with the best of care. Round-the-clock medical staff. A live-in companion who watches her 24/7 and makes sure my mother engages in the social activities she still enjoys—card games and such—and gets her exercise. Wish I could do more.
After she serves my mother her own cup and makes sure she’s comfortable, Linda departs. She knows I prefer to be alone with my mother. In silent companionship, we occupy the same space until it’s time for me to leave. After the allotted half hour, her companion returns. But before she guides me back to the lobby, there’s one thing I must do.
With Linda’s help, I find my way to my mother, embrace her and kiss her softly on the cheek. “See you next month, Mother.”
“Yes, dear.” Her voice holds neither joy nor regret. Like every damn time I say goodbye to her.
“You done, Mr. McK?” Bobby greets me at the lobby. I met him at one of the stock car races. He’s in his early thirties, same as me, and had grown disillusioned with the racing circuit. After my accident, he was one of the few who visited me at the hospital and managed not to feel sorry for me. Before I was discharged I asked if he’d like to be my chauffeur. He’d jumped at the chance of a steady salary and regular meals. I thought he’d grow bored with the life, but he’s fallen for Rose, one of the maids. According to Moseley, they are saving money to marry someday.
We ride back home in silence until the phone rings. “Hello.”
“Mr. MacKay?” Caitlyn. Her voice quivers. Wonder what disaster has struck now.
I take a deep breath. It feels like the first I’ve taken today. “Yes, Ms. Bennett.”
“Ummm, one of the guests is sick with the flu.”
“Which one?”
“A
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