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Before he could answer, my phone rang where it was tucked into my back pocket. A familiar number popped up, and I stepped out of earshot before I answered.
“This is Jax.”
“Jax, it’s Molly over at Mountainside Living Center. Is this a good time?”
Rolling my neck until it cracked, I walked a few steps farther away from any of my coworkers. “Yeah, go ahead. He okay?”
“That’s why I’m calling, actually. He’s having a really good day today.” My heart rate spiked when she paused. “He asked about you just now. Thought maybe I’d see if you had time to come for a visit.”
It hardly registered that I told Wade I had to leave, and I ignored the shocked looks on everyone’s faces, but I was jogging out to my truck as soon as I hung up the phone, blood humming with a strange mix of anticipation and apprehension.
The drive to the living center was one I hadn’t taken in a long time, and the lush, green scenery passed in a blur, the silence in my truck a welcome reprieve from all the noise in my head—thoughts of almost kisses and forgotten conversations, of how fears lock down the rest of our world when we hardly even realize it.
Tucked back behind some towering trees, the brick covered building came into view, tall wooden beams holding up the covered portico that led to the locked entrance. Icranked the steering wheel into a spot at the back of the half-empty parking lot. A Monday afternoon wasn’t a very popular time for a visit, and even though I’d been sitting for the better part of half an hour, I was completely out of breath while I waited for someone to buzz me inside the second set of doors.
Molly, the charge nurse for Henry’s unit, lifted her head from where she was standing in front of a med cart, her wide smile setting something at ease in my chest. “Goodness, you didn’t waste any time.”
Vaguely, I shook my head. “How’s he doing? Besides the good day.”
She leaned against the cart with a rueful smile. “That man is as healthy as a horse. He’ll probably outlive both of us.”
Exhaling a quiet sigh of relief, I nodded. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here since I got back. It’s been … I’ve had a lot going on.”
She waved that off, tucking her long braids behind her shoulder. “He did just fine while you were gone. We never needed that emergency number, so don’t you even worry.”
The last few times I was here, my presence seemed to agitate him more than anything, my visits thinning out because making it worse, even if he didn’t understand why, was something I couldn’t handle. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at me with even the slightest flicker of recognition. At least four years.
Glancing around the other residents in the dining room, I noticed quickly that Henry wasn’t among them. Around the corner from the nurses’ desk, the big space split off into two distinct rooms. One was the gathering area for large groups, with couches and chairs, and a big TV mounted on the wall with a piano set in the corner. Off to the other side, there was a room full of activity stations—almost like what you’d see for kids to be able to play make-believe.
But instead, this was for the residents, allowing them a space to do a job, something that made them feel good, feelneeded and feel important. A woman wearing a bright red dress and matching lipstick sat in a rocking chair with a baby doll in her arms, patting the doll’s back like she was trying to burp her after a meal. To her right was a changing table and a small bin of toys, like she was sitting in a nursery.
Empty today, but someplace I’d often found Henry was a worktable like you’d find in a garage—realistic-looking tools lining the pegboard wall, things he loved to tinker with, imaginary items he could fix.
Just to the side of that was a small office setup, and I recognized the Black gentleman sitting at the desk, shuffling through papers and using a large calculator. His frizzy white hair was longer than it was last time I was here, and just like the time before, he was sharply dressed—a crisp press to his white dress shirt, expensive looking suspenders and a smart bow tie around his neck.
It was Molly’s uncle, and she told me once he used to be a high-profile prosecutor, then a circuit county judge.
He looked up at my entrance and smiled, heavy wrinkles bracketing his friendly eyes. “Do we have a meeting, young man?”
“Not today,” I told him. “But I know you’re a busy man.”
His nod was slow, his eyes going distant for a moment. “Indeed, indeed.”
Molly smiled at her uncle, then set her hand on my arm and tilted her head down the hallway that led to a securely fenced yard. “Henry’s back there.”
“Thank you,” I told her.
With a gentle, understanding smile, she patted my arm. “Let me know if you need anything.”
The rooms were quiet as I passed, only the occasional hum of a television show or some low level conversation filtering through opened doors. Each room looked like its own small front porch. Fake plants and flowers in big pots sat in front; a different color on each door made it look cheery andwelcoming. Number seven—Henry’s room—had a bright red door, something I’d asked for before he moved in because I hoped he’d recognize it from his old house. The flowers I’d brought before I left for Spain still looked fresh and new, and I let out a deep breath as I passed by, approaching the door to the outside space. A nurse’s aide was walking with him, holding on this arm and pointing out things beyond the tall black iron fence.
He was nodding, and the clench in my chest grew when he tipped his chin up and laughed at something she said. There were only small whisps of white hair left on the top of his head, combed over in a neat line. Even though it was warm and sunny out, Henry wore a maroon cardigan over a blue dress shirt, his khaki pants hemmed to perfection over his brown leather dress shoes.
When I opened the door to join them, Henry glanced over his shoulder, his brow furrowing slightly. My heart was in my throat while I took slow steps in their direction, fixing my face into a pleasant sort of neutral, just in case the earlier moments of lucidity had ebbed.
“Nice afternoon, isn’t it, Mr. Emerson?” I asked.
“Beautiful,” Henry said, still staring at me with slightly curious eyes.
