do that after my volunteering job. As busy as I am, I can’t miss it. It’s Gladys’s ninetieth birthday party, and I have to be there.
I’m heading out the door when text messages and notifications start to blow up my phone.
What the hell? This can’t be about the fire.
I click on a random message, which turns out to be hate mail.
Shit on toast. The article about Troy is out.
CHARLIE
I skipped class on Friday—though not because I was afraid to deal with my article’s repercussion. I don’t give a flying fuck about Troy’s fan club outrage. No, thanks to that idiot, I caught a cold—one more item for my list of grievances against him. I was still all sniffles and coughs during LARP, which made for a rough event. Thankfully, I’m feeling better today, so it didn’t completely ruin my weekend, only half of it.
It’s 9:00 a.m., and the parking lot at Golden Oaks is still relatively empty. Sunday is prime visitation day for the assisted living part of the complex, and I’m glad I got here before the crowd. Gladys’s party is not until noon, but I promised the administrator I’d help set it up.
It was sheer luck that I kept the décor for the party in my trunk. I’d have stored it near the kitchen if I had unloaded it last week. I hoist the two extra-large bags over my shoulders and then head inside the building. Cheyenne Benson, the administrator, is behind the reception desk today. Her face splits into a wide grin when she sees me coming through the door.
“Charlie! You’re here early. Nice dress.” Her smile broadens.
“Thanks. I wanted to beat the traffic. I’m staying at my folks’ in Littleton.”
“Oh no. You had to brave the freeway? That beast never slows down.”
“Perks of living near LA.” I wink at her.
“For sure.” She walks around the desk. “Let me help you with that.”
I give her one of the bags. “How many people are we expecting today?”
“The usual number for a Sunday. I’m not sure if Gladys’s grandkids will be here. I couldn’t get a confirmation from her son.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yeah. Between you and me, I don’t think the grandkids want to be here. She doesn’t remember them, and it’s just hard.”
Gladys has Alzheimer’s, and the disease is progressing fast now. The birthday party is more for the residents in the independent living wing of Golden Oaks than her.
We head to the entertainment area where tables have already been set up. I’m not surprised when I spot Ophelia Holland, the coolest lady I’ve ever met, giving orders to Jack Morris and Louis Romano, her boyfriends.
She’s already dressed to the nines, wearing a pink Chanel suit and her pearls. Her chin-length hair is curly and currently baby blue. Every week it’s a different color. She turns around and smirks when she sees my outfit. I lost a bet last weekend, and this is my penance—I have to wear a Sailor Moon costume today. I’m all for cosplaying, but there’s a time and place for it, and it’s definitely not at a ninety-year-old’s birthday party.
“Looking good, Charlie,” Louis says, not hiding his amusement. “Jon-Jon would have loved it.”
“Yeah, right. He’d probably think I’d lost my senses completely.”
Jon-Jon was my grandpa. He lived here for five years before he passed away last year. It’s how I got to know the place and their residents. I became so attached to them that I kept coming back every weekend. Cheyenne was the one who suggested I list my time here as volunteer work to make my résumé look good. But that’s not the reason I come. I love everyone.
I set the bag near the table before I hug Ophelia. She won’t reveal her age, but even so, I can tell her body is becoming frailer. She looks healthy though, and she’s full of energy as usual.
“Why are you here so early, Charlie? Didn’t you have your LARP event yesterday?”
“Yeah, but I’m staying at my folks’ temporarily, and it’s a drive.”
She furrows her white eyebrows. “Why are you staying there? Is everything all right?”
“There was a small fire at my place, and now I have to find another room to rent.”
“Oh no. That’s dreadful. Was there a lot of damage?”
“Mainly in the kitchen. Still, it’s going to be a pain in the butt finding a room that’s not out of my price range or a complete dump.”
A light bulb seems to flash above her blue head as she widens her eyes. “I have the