mom winked and slinked into the adjacent room, pretending to turn over a bed as she watched Mrs. Collins pretend to smile.
“Welcome to orientation,” Mrs. Collins said.
And thus began the speech Christopher’s mom had heard twice already. How Shady Pines is an institution of caring. How a society will be judged by how it takes care of its elders. How her family bought this elder care facility because seniors deserve dignity (even if the workers who provide it do not). Bullshit bullshit. Yadda yadda. Country club country club. Christopher’s mom waited for the first kid to make the dreadful mistake of interrupting the speech. And like clockwork, it happened…
“Excuse me, Mrs. Collins? When do we get our certificate?” a boy asked.
Christopher’s mother saw that the voice belonged to none other than…
Doug.
Stupid Doug.
Mrs. Collins smiled. “You’ll get it at the end of the month.”
Doug smiled back. “Good. I’m applying to schools in December.”
“That’s wonderful. You are so eager to help. What a nice young man. Is that your girlfriend?” she asked, pointing to Mary Katherine.
“Yes, Mrs. Collins. Hello,” Mary Katherine said.
They were doomed.
“Would you two like a special assignment?” she asked.
Doomed.
Mary Katherine looked like a deer in headlights. She turned to Christopher’s mom, who quietly shook her head no. She turned back to Mrs. Collins.
“Well, uh…I am good in the kitchen. I’d love to volunteer there,” she said sweetly.
“Are you sure? This would be very special. You’d be taking care of my very own mother.”
Fucking Doomed.
“Well, uh…that’s quite an honor,” Mary Katherine said. She turned to Doug to think of something. Bail them out. Anything. But he was silent.
And then, a miracle.
“Yes, it’s quite an honor, kids,” a voice said sarcastically. “Her mother is a mean old bitch just like her.”
There was a collective gasp, a nervous laugh, and a turn to the voice. Everyone looked at the owner of the coke-bottle glasses.
It was Ambrose.
The old man from the hospital.
The old man with the cataracts.
The clouds in his eyes.
Mrs. Collins turned to him. “How dare you,” she said.
“How dare me? Mrs. Collins, these kids have to listen to your bullshit for their college applications. I don’t. So, go fuck yourself, you dime-store bully,” he said.
The kids laughed.
“Sir, you will watch your language in front of the children, or you will leave Shady Pines.”
“Promise?” he said sarcastically.
Then, he turned to the group.
“Hey, kids. You’re here for your future, right? Well, look at all the old people here. That is your future. So, don’t fuck around and waste time. Go to college. Get laid. Make some money. Travel. Then, get married and raise your kids to be nothing like Mrs. Collins or her husband. Capiche?”
Without waiting for a response, the old man hobbled on his bad knees back to the parlor, leaving behind a room full of adoring fans. Of course, it did nothing to stop Mary Katherine and Doug from getting the worst assignment in the place. It didn’t stop Mrs. Collins from being even more abusive to the kids and the staff because she couldn’t get her mani-pedi’d claws on Ambrose. But it did give them all a little ray of sunshine to pass the time.
Like a song to a chain gang.
Right after lunch, Christopher’s mom went into Ambrose’s room to clean. He was watching Jeopardy! on his television. He knew every answer and called them out. When the commercial break came on, he turned to her.
“I saw you try to help that poor girl,” he said.
“Yeah. I heard you help her, too,” Kate said back.
Christopher’s mom knew a lot about Ambrose from the nurses. Between his cataracts, glaucoma, and age, she heard that his eyes were not healing. His eye doctor told him that he would be blind soon. Probably by Christmas. He took the news with a bark of “Fuck it. No one to see anyway.” He had no relatives. No visitors. No one to take care of him. Nowhere to go for Christmas.
And yet, somehow, he was the brightest light in the place.
“Mrs. Reese…this is your future, too, you know? You’re a nice lady, and your kid is great. So, don’t fuck around.”
She smiled at him and nodded. Then, Christopher’s mom left the room, taking Ambrose’s smile with her.
*
Ambrose turned off the television and took a sip of water. He put the plastic cup by his bedside. Next to the photograph of the pretty old woman with the wrinkles. She was still beautiful after forty years of marriage.
It had been two years.
She was gone. Like his brother when