liked to sit with his father and wasn’t a bother.
Martha wrote everything down. It was a lot of information, but she felt like she could get a handle on it if she could just write it down. The nurses came at night, and as soon as she let them in at six o’clock, she was free to go.
“Don’t take it personal if he gets crabby,” Jaz told her. “He’s an old man and he’s used to having things his way. And now his body’s failing him and that’s hard for him to handle.”
“Okay,” Martha said. “That’s so sad.”
“It’s sad, sure. But it’s just life. We’re here, we live, and we die. Not much you can do about it, so we might as well enjoy it while we can. No use worrying about that.”
Martha couldn’t believe that Jaz really thought this. Who in their right mind wasn’t afraid of dying? She was probably just putting on a brave face so that Martha would feel better about the whole thing. She must be.
Jaz moved around the house with so much purpose. Martha watched as she informed Mr. Cranston that it was time for lunch, suggested that he’d like to take a rest, announced that it was time for a walk. Martha walked behind her, afraid of what Mr. Cranston was going to say, her feet following Jaz’s, stepping right where she had stepped, hoping that this would give her some sort of strength.
When she got home at night, she was so tired she could barely move. The first week, she was in bed by nine each night. She resolved every night as she went to bed that the next day she would act just like Jaz. She would be firm and purposeful. But each morning she woke up and she was still herself—nervous and unsure, following behind Jaz, afraid of upsetting Mr. Cranston.
“IT’S SAD,” MARTHA TOLD HER FAMILY at dinner. “It’s like everyone is just waiting for him to die, including him! Like they’re just killing time. Literally.”
“Well, what did you expect?” Claire asked. “You knew you were going to be a caretaker for an elderly person. It’s not like there’s a lot of different endings to that story.”
“I know, I was just saying that it’s hard. That’s all.”
If Martha was being honest, she missed J.Crew. She missed bossing people around the ribboned shirts and sparkly scarves. She missed her work smelling like new clothes. It had been so clean at the store. There’d been an order to the polos, a calmness to the khakis.
Every night, Weezy asked her how her day had gone as soon as she walked in the door. She asked it nervously, like she was waiting for bad news.
“I think people are waiting for me to fail,” Martha told Dr. Baer.
“Are you waiting for yourself to fail?” Dr. Baer asked. “Do you think you want to fail?”
“No, I don’t want to fail,” Martha said. “Of course I don’t want to fail.” Sometimes Dr. Baer was an idiot.
Martha found herself losing patience during her sessions. I’m a patient losing patience, she often thought when this happened. Dr. Baer didn’t seem all that impressed that she had a new job, that she was practically back to nursing.
“Well, I don’t think that people are waiting for you to fail,” Dr. Baer said. “I think you have a good support system around you, and when people ask you how things are going, they’re really asking just that and nothing more.”
“I guess so.”
“So, how do you feel at the end of the day with Mr. Cranston?”
“Good, I guess.” The truth was that sometimes it was very, very boring. Martha sat still and watched the clock during the days, just waiting for the next activity.
“That’s great,” Dr. Baer said. “It sounds like this job was the right move for you then, something to challenge you a little more.”
“Retail is very challenging,” Martha said. She tried not to sound too offended. “People don’t understand that, but it’s not easy. You don’t just show up and sell things. Plus, I was a manager, which entailed a lot of responsibility. So actually, I don’t think that this job is more challenging in that sense. Not at all.”
“That’s a good point,” Dr. Baer said. “I guess what I meant was that it’s different and new. And new things are always challenging, especially when you’ve gotten comfortable somewhere.”
“Right, I guess that’s true. New jobs are hard,” Martha said. “Actually my sister just got a new job too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, she’s temping