Blackout (9 page)

“Have a good lunch?” she asked.

Katherine beamed. “Excellent. And Maxwell agreed to an assistant for Yolanda.”

“That’s good,” Betty said, not surprised. “Later, I need to see you privately.”

Katherine raised her finely arched eyebrows and consulted her watch. “All right. Four o’clock?”

“Fine,” Betty said and walked on toward the rotunda.

Dr. Henderson was charting when she arrived. They greeted each other, and he said, “I see where Thomas Black has authorized the use of antianxiety drugs for his wife.”

“Oh, did he?” Betty was a little surprised.

The doctor nodded. “She hasn’t slowed down since she got here. He’s worried about her.”

Betty nodded. She handed Rita the eight charts she had finished and took a new set in return. For some reason, she was upset about Thomas’s decision. Until now, she hadn’t realized she didn’t want Lettie medicated. She’d miss her walking the halls. And Lettie seemed to still have some untapped cognitive ability. What would the meds do to that?

After saying good-bye to Dr. Henderson, Betty walked slowly to her office, hugging the charts to her chest. She buried herself in the records so her mind could rest. Otherwise, she’d think about Lettie and Margaret and Katherine. And Alice. She needed to find time to talk to the aide today. She’d seen her at the staff meeting but then got distracted.

In sixteen charts, she found no correlation between decubs and weight loss. One woman had lost ten pounds, but she had cancer. Two other residents had actually gained weight. Mrs. Reynolds had indeed lost four pounds, but she was on a weight-reduction diet. Betty would have to speak to her daughter. Apparently, no one had told her about the diet.

Disgusted, she gathered up the charts and took them back to the rotunda. As she came out of the nurse’s station, she met Lettie and Thomas.

Lettie asked her usual question, and Betty reassured her. Then Lettie saw Yolanda and went to her. She frequently attended activities, never staying more than ten minutes or so, but she really liked the activity director.

“I hear she’s starting the medication,” Betty said.

“Yes, today. Dr. Henderson said it would take two or three days to begin working.” Thomas watched his wife as he spoke. “How about dinner Friday night? We could go into Sacramento, take in a show.”

“I’m sorry. I have other plans,” Betty told him, also watching Lettie talk to Yolanda. He’s married, she reminded herself. Think about how you feel about Katherine fooling around on her husband.

“How about the following week, then?” Thomas asked, his eyes finally turning to her. God, he was good-looking. Lettie would never know.
But I would
, Betty thought.

She equivocated. “Check with me later, okay? I’m sorry, but I have to run. I have an appointment.”

He put his hand on her arm, and a bolt of electricity seemed to shoot to her chest. She paused and stared at him until he removed his hand, slowly, as if reluctantly. Had he felt it, too? She shivered when the contact ended and turned quickly away so he couldn’t see her face.

“I’ll see you later,” he said quietly.

She nodded and took off for the administrator’s office. Maybe she was beginning to understand Katherine a little better. Old fogy, she told herself. You’ve forgotten those feelings since Colin died in ’Nam. A long time ago. Twenty damn years.

She felt breathless when she entered Katherine’s office. The administrator was on the phone again, this time obviously talking to the design department at home office. Betty closed the door and sat down.

“You know I like the Queen Anne stuff, not that Western crap. … I don’t care if we are in California. … Well, fax me some pictures, and I’ll decide. … Right. … Yes. … Yes. … Okay. … I’ll call you after I look at them. … Yes. … Good-bye.” She hung up and turned to Betty. “I know the residents are more comfortable with old-fashioned furniture than that modern stuff those young people in Design are so hot for. No common sense at all. Well, what can I do for you?” She picked up her pen and threaded it through her fingers.

Slowly, carefully, as if treading in a minefield, Betty explained what had occurred in the kitchen earlier. Katherine’s hands stilled while she listened. When Betty finished, Katherine set the pen down precisely at the top of the yellow legal pad in the center of her desk.

“Well, now, Betty,” she said, finally. “You can’t tell me you haven’t blown up at an aide. Even made one or two cry, I imagine.”

“Never, never like that, Katherine. In the first place, I don’t swear. In the second place, I try to get all the facts to begin with. And finally, when I blow up, it’s planned. Sometimes they need shaking up. That’s true. But this was uncalled for. It wasn’t even the poor aide’s fault the wheel came off, for heaven’s sake.”

Katherine nodded. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know.” She stood up. “I’ll take care of it.”

No one likes a tattler, Betty thought. But I did what I had to do. She got out of her chair and turned to leave.

“Betty,” Katherine said. Betty turned back around. “I appreciate what you did. I know it was difficult. And I really will take care of it.”

Betty said, “Okay. Thanks.”

As she left the administrator’s office she remembered she hadn’t seen Alice. She checked her watch, knowing the girl had already left for the day. It would have to wait until tomorrow, then.

Betty went back to her office. Opening the bottom drawer of her desk, she pulled out a plastic bag of trail mix and dumped some into her hand. Thoughtfully, she ate it, then got another handful.

A knock sounded on the doorjamb. She glanced up to see the aide Margaret had harangued standing there, a resolute set to her jaw.

“Come in,” Betty said, tossing the rest of the trail mix still in her hand into her mouth. She offered the bag to the aide, but the young woman shook her head. Betty indicated the visitor’s chair, and the woman sat down. Betty read her nametag—Tammi Mulligan. It was way after three o’clock, so Tammi was on her own time.

“What can I do for you?” Betty asked as she put the bag of trail mix back into the drawer. She wished she had something to drink, but she hadn’t replaced her supply of soft drinks.

“I…I came about making a complaint against Mrs. Wood.”

Betty nodded, not surprised. Tammi and the other employees had probably discussed it after work, and they’d all urged her to file a grievance. If anything came of it, they’d all benefit without risk.

“You should see the administrator,” Betty said as she got up to close the door.

“I know. But first I need to make sure you’ll back me up. She is a department head…”

Implying
, Betty thought,
I’d stick by her
.

“I don’t make a habit of lying, young lady,” she said waspishly, sitting down again.

“Oh, oh, I didn’t think you would. Really, Miss Cranston. It’s just that—”

“It’s just that you had to be sure. I know.” Betty sighed. She leaned back in her chair. “Does Margaret blow up like that frequently?”

Tammi wouldn’t meet her eyes. She shrugged.

“You can tell me,” Betty assured her. “We’ll have to interview other employees anyway, and some will tell.”

“It’s pretty bad,” Tammi admitted. “It’s like since she got promoted, she has to show everyone she’s boss. She was a good cook, but she’s a lousy boss.”

Betty nodded. The Peter Principle at work. Something would have to be done about it. She hoped Katherine was woman enough to do it.

Her own screams woke her. Alice sat up, sweat drenching her face. She wiped her forehead with her trembling hand.

Hannah came running. “Are you all right?” She turned on the light on the night table.

“I think so. What time is it?” Alice turned, squinting to see the clock. “Three,” she answered herself. “I had a bad dream.”

Hannah sat down on the edge of the bed and brushed damp hair away from the nape of Alice’s neck. “Want to talk about it?”

“I don’t remember much. Must have been in the nursing home. Some old woman yelling at me about the sins of the fathers.” Alice hugged her knees. She was tired of having one or two nightmares a week. If she woke up Hannah with her screams, usually she couldn’t recall anything. She was glad she could tell her something this time. Hannah always appeared disappointed when Alice said she didn’t remember. Maybe Hannah thought she was lying. After all, she never talked about her life before arriving on Hannah’s doorstep.

“What did the woman look like?”

“Old. Gray hair, thin.” Alice closed her eyes to try to remember more. “She sat in a white rocker, shelling peas. On a porch. It couldn’t have been the nursing home. The old people there don’t shell peas. Oh, I don’t know. Just a dream.”

Hannah brushed Alice’s hair with her hand again. “Would you like some juice?”

“No, thank you, Hannah. I’m sorry I woke you. Let’s go back to sleep now.” She wanted Hannah to leave so she could think about the dream.

“It’s all right, child. Don’t worry about me. I hope you sleep well for what’s left of the night.”

“You, too,” Alice said as she snuggled back down in the covers.

Hannah turned off the light and left, not closing the door all the way.

Alice stared into the darkness, trying to force herself to remember. Suddenly she thought about Brenda counseling that family yesterday.

Why? How were to two connected? Nana. The young woman had called the old lady Nana.

“Nana,” Alice whispered as she drifted off to sleep.

The next day Alice went to work and searched for Brenda off and on to report about Nancy telling a resident to shut up. But Brenda was always away from her office when Alice went by, and Alice had to leave without seeing her.

Donald sat in Hannah’s kitchen when Alice arrived after work. He looked at her with an expectant expression on his face. Hannah smiled at her, then turned away to peel some potatoes at the sink.

Donald cleared his throat. “I wondered if you’d go out to dinner with me tonight. And to a movie.”

Alice stared at him, confused. It sounded like he’d asked her for a date. She studied him a moment, and he blushed. She turned away, almost blushing herself. She tried desperately to remember if she’d ever been on a date before. No memory of one came to her. Suddenly feeling shy, she murmured, “Okay. What time?”

“Five thirty so we can catch the seven o’clock movie?”

“All right,” she said and left the kitchen. In her room, she realized she felt excited. She’d liked Donald from the moment they met, and it was wonderful he wanted to take her out. She showered and washed her hair, put on clean jeans and a red striped shirt. Then she carefully applied lipstick and took the silver, butterfly-shaped earrings out of a small jewelry box that had been on the bureau when she arrived.

Slowly, she put them on. She had not worn them once since she found them in her jeans pocket after coming to live with Hannah.

The silver felt cool to her touch. She studied herself in the mirror, then closed her eyes, trying to remember something. Anything. The earrings must have been important to her.

As she opened her eyes, she got a glimpse of a different room, a room where she had stood in front of a mirror and put on earrings. On the bureau had been a camera.

Was that memory important
? she wondered. She tried again, closing her eyes, opening them, straining to see something.

Nothing.

Disappointed, she turned and went to find Donald.

Donald chatted easily with her while they drove to Lester’s. She’d never been there before and was startled by the abruptness of the waiter. He wanted to take her salad away before she’d finished, had them order dessert while still eating their dinner, and brought the pie before she’d eaten all her steak.

“Are all the waiters like him?” she whispered to Donald.

He laughed. “Pretty much. Everyone in town gets a kick out of the service. It’s great when you’re in a hurry. And if you’re not, ignore them and eat as slowly as you want.”

Alice glanced around at the other diners, who didn’t seem to even notice how fast they were served with the implication they should leave as quickly as possible. Alice giggled and took a bite of pie, slowly. Donald grinned at her and did the same.

Donald sobered. “Is everything going all right at Hannah’s?” he asked.

“Yes. She’s wonderful.”

“How, specifically?”

“She doesn’t ask a lot of questions, but I feel she’ll listen to me if I have a problem.”

“And do you have any problems?”

She wanted to say yes and tell him everything. But fear gripped her, and she turned away from his kind face. What would he say? What would he think? Would he tell Hannah? She didn’t feel ready. It was bad enough she’d told Betty.

“No problems.”

“How about at Merry Hills? Everything there okay?”

“The work is kind of hard, but everyone is nice there, too. I’m doing all right.”

“You sure don’t give anything away, do you?”

Alice was surprised to hear hurt in his tone. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said deliberately, taking her hand, “we have known each other for over two months, and except for your name and what you look like, I know nothing about you.”

“Oh,” she said.

“Yes, oh.” He let her hand go as the waiter approached and slapped the bill down on the table.

“Pay at the cashier’s. Have a good evening.” He turned away before they could reply.

Donald picked up the bill and studied it for a moment. Alice touched her flushed cheek with her fingers, then clasped her hands in her lap. She stood up when Donald did and followed him to the front. She didn’t know what to say to him, how to explain.

Silently, they rode the three blocks to the theater. He bought drinks and popcorn, and they watched the movie. She kept her eyes on the screen.

After the show, they went to an old-fashioned drug store that still sold ice cream sodas and milkshakes.

Sitting at a tiny table, Donald said, “I shouldn’t have snapped at you earlier. I’m sorry.”

Alice shook her head, close to tears. “I’ll tell you more someday, I promise.”