The Dream - Whitney Dineen Page 0,7
for a minute?”
I stop dead in my tracks like I’ve just stepped in a puddle of water that instantly froze around my feet. Is he talking to me?
Before I can turn around to find out, he walks toward me. “Has my mama talked to you about my gran yet?”
“I’m not sure. What are you referring to?”
“We want to bring her home with us once in a while. You know, take her down memory lane to see if it triggers anything.”
Families of dementia patients hardly ever try to take their loved ones out of here, even for short visits. Most residents are too unpredictable outside of the environment they’ve become accustomed to. “I’m not sure that would be for the best,” I say candidly.
“My cousin is getting married soon and we’re all feeling sad at the idea of Gran not being at the wedding. We were hoping if we brought her home a couple times first, she might be able to attend,” he explains.
“I’m not sure she’d even know what was going on,” I say honestly, watching the hopeful expression drop from his face.
“The truth is, we’re probably doing it more for us than her.” He woefully sighs before continuing, “We’d like her to be in the family pictures. I think we’re preparing ourselves for life without her by trying to make more memories with her. Does that make sense?”
I feel tears come to my eyes as an aching emptiness nearly overwhelms me. It must be incredible to be part of such a close-knit family, to be so entwined in each other’s lives. Mom and I were close, but we were all each other had. There were no other grandkids or even aunts and uncles for that matter. Now that she’s gone, lonely doesn’t begin to cover the vacancy in my heart.
“Davis, right?” I ask like I don’t know his name as well as my own. He’s got to know who I am, but I continue the charade of ignorance as I’d rather he not remember my high school nickname. Who knows, maybe he really has forgotten me.
He nods his head, so I continue, “I think it might be too hard on your grandmother. If you’re determined to try, I’d have someone accompany her that she’s used to seeing every day.”
His eyes brighten. “We could hire you as her companion.”
I wasn’t necessarily thinking of me, but it would definitely make Mrs. Frothingham’s transition easier. “It would have to be on one of my days off.”
“I’ll talk to my mama and Aunt Gracie and get you some dates. When are you available?” he asks enthusiastically.
“Sunday and Monday.”
“But today’s Monday,” he says clearly wondering why I’m here.
“One of our aides is on maternity leave. I’ve been picking up some extra shifts,” I explain.
“Should I just call you here to set it up, or can I get your number?”
I feel the heat of excitement flood my face. “I can give you my number,” I tell him, delighting in the knowledge that it will be programmed into his phone. “My name is Ashley, and my number is …” I somehow get the digits out without stumbling over my tangled tongue.
While I watch as Davis’s manly fingers deftly program my information into his phone, I decide enough time has gone by that he probably doesn’t even think of high school anymore. Most people grow up and move beyond adolescence. In my case, that time made such a negative impact, I haven’t been very successful in doing the same.
“Cool, thanks. I’ll be in touch,” he tells me as I smile like an inebriated baboon.
I watch Davis walk away looking like he’s made out of solid gold. The man is so bright and shiny and perfect, I simply cannot get enough of him. I’m excited by the possibility of seeing him more often by escorting his grandmother. Now that I’ve finally run into him, and talked to him, I realize an occasional sighting is not going to cut it anymore.
Thank goodness I don’t have to resort to devising accidental meetings like I used to in high school.
Chapter Four
January 22, 2006
Dear Molly,
Davis and I have history together right before lunch. I make sure to stay as close to him as possible all the way to the cafeteria. That way I can stand behind him in line. I dream that someday he’ll turn around, and our eyes will meet while some great eighties soundtrack starts to play over the loudspeaker. He’ll pull me into his arms and then we’ll kiss