A Month of Summer (43 page)

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Authors: Lisa Wingate

BOOK: A Month of Summer
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“Sounds good. I’ll let you know once we’ve booked a flight.”
We exchanged good nights and I answered the other line. It was Ifeoma, calling to apologize again for signing the foreclosure paperwork and to let me know that she’d seen Hanna Beth’s name on the nursing center’s birthday list for tomorrow. “I have been asked to double my shift tonight, so if you like, I would be available to purchase a card for you and bring it to her in the morning,” she offered.
“Let me think about it and call you back later,” I said, unable to imagine what the card would say. In view of everything that was happening, now hardly seemed like the time for a celebration.
CHAPTER 26
Hanna Beth Parker
Even though Rebecca had Ifeoma tell me I shouldn’t worry about the situation with the house, I fretted about it most of the night. In spite of a sleeping medication, I was awake when Ifeoma came to my room in the morning. I was thinking of Blue Sky Hill, of the house and the garden. I imagined sitting in a patio chair, in the calm of morning, nothing to disturb the leaves and the flowers but a slight breeze.
Ifeoma was in a surprisingly good humor as she helped me into the wheelchair and took me to the bathroom to wash up. I didn’t feel like going through all those ministrations, but Ifeoma was insistent.
She only smiled at me when I complained. “You must be washed and dressed by eight o’clock,” she said, her rolling accent echoing against the bathroom walls, making her voice deep and resonant. “Do you not know today is your birthday, Hanna Beth Parker?”
“Umm-my bird-day.” Suddenly, the morning rush made sense. Volunteers from the local hair salon, whom the staff called “the birthday ladies,” came to the nursing center weekly and treated all the birthday girls to hairstyles, makeup, and manicures. While it was a sweet tradition, I wasn’t in the mood today.
Ifeoma moved efficiently about her work, as if this process of washing and dressing another person were perfectly normal. “Rebecca has sent clothing for you from home. A woman should wear her favorite outfit on her birthday. I have it in my cart.”
“Rebecca?” I’d expected the nursing center staff to know it was my birthday—their computer would remind them—but I hadn’t thought Rebecca would be aware of it. Why would she bother with such a frivolity, considering everything going on at home? Then again, if Rebecca had time for picking out clothes to send me, perhaps I was fretting too much.
Another thought came on the heels of that one. Perhaps there was a reason I was being gussied up. Perhaps I would be entertaining some special visitors today. “Ed-ward com-eeeng?”
Ifeoma’s lips twisted slyly. “It could be so.”
“Teddy com-eeeng?”
“Perhaps.”
The whiff of a good secret tickled my senses like a freshly baked spice cake. Edward had learned early on to double wrap my Christmas gifts. He knew I’d go peeking if I could. “Wwwhen com-eeng?”
Ifeoma tutted her tongue against her teeth. “I cannot say.” What she meant was, she
wouldn’t
say. There was a twinkle in her eye. “Teddy has grown flowers for your birthday. Many, many flowers.”
A shadow of guilt slid over my burgeoning curiosity. To bring the flowers here, Teddy would have to cut them. Teddy didn’t like to cut his flowers. He felt sad for the plants. “Nnn-no. No flll-oors.”
Ifeoma frowned at me as she hung the washcloth in the shower, then helped me towel off and dress in the blue summer pantsuit Edward had given me last year on my birthday. I didn’t think I’d like the outfit when I opened it, but Edward said I looked like a vision in it. I loved it after that. I wore it often in the yard, because the thin nylon was airy and easy to wash. As Ifeoma slipped the jacket over my blouse, I took a deep breath and imagined I could smell my garden.
“It is time for you in the salon,” Ifeoma said, and wheeled me down the hall to where the birthday ladies performed their magic.
As I got the treatment, the ladies giggled and joked, and told me how lovely I was. When they were finished, they turned me toward the mirror. I might have cried, but I didn’t want to muss my makeup. In my own clothes, with my hair fixed and my face clean, I felt like myself again. The woman in the mirror, but for the slight sag on one side of her face, was Hanna Beth Parker. Even with the sag, she was Hanna Beth Parker.
I hugged each of the beauty ladies before they wheeled me into the commons room, where I could parade with other birthday girls, showing off the new-old me.
“Why, Birdie, look at you!” Claude was quickly at my table. “I’d offer to match you in a game of chess, but you’re such a peach today, I think I wouldn’t be able to keep my mind on the game.”
I shook a finger at him and gave a playful
tsk-tsk
.
“Now, Birdie, you know I wasn’t bein’ untoward,” he protested. “I understand you’re a married woman.” We laughed together, then sat in silence for a while, neither of us thinking of much to say.
“Things are goin’ good at my house,” Claude offered finally. You could always depend on Claude to come up with some way to start a conversation.
“Ummm?”
“Sure thing. We made a lot of decisions yesterday. Sure was good to spend a little time at the old place again. I almost told ’em, just leave me there in my woodshop—I wasn’t comin’ back here after all.” His mood sobered, and he patted the arm of his wheelchair, then took a breath and straightened his shoulders, checking the front door. “Ouita Mae and Doc Barnhill think it’ll do them just fine. Doc’s gonna leave the old shop buildin’ like it was, let all the stuff from my trains and all my old tools stay out there. He said he thought it’d be all right if my little neighbor girl wanted to bring me over there once in a while, and I could piddle with my woodworkin’ stuff. He don’t have time to do anythin’ out there anyhow.”
“Good,” I said, but, really, I felt sorry for Claude. I reached out and patted his hand, which probably I shouldn’t have done, because now that I was up and about, I’d discovered that the old ladies in the nursing center relished gossip.
“It’s a little tough, things changin’,” he admitted.
“Wee-da . . . gu-rl pooool,” I said, even though by now I knew it was surely hopeless. I’d tried at least a hundred times, and I couldn’t make such a complicated concept understood. By the time I finally gained enough language to accomplish it, there was no telling where Claude and Ouita Mae would be.
Claude quirked a brow at me. “No, the house don’t have a pool. I don’t know why you keep askin’ me that, Birdie.”
I huffed and rolled my eyes.
“I wasn’t meaning it in a cross way,” Claude said apologetically. “I might of told you the house had a pool. I forget what I’m sayin’ sometimes. They changed my medicines around, though, and my mind’s better. There’s a wet-weather crick runnin’ through the back, but no pool.”
“Innn yerrr umm-mind?” I motioned to his head.
Claude grinned. “Well, there’s probably a wet-weather crick in my mind, too, but I was meanin’ at the house.” We laughed together, and he said, “Ah, Birdie, it’ll be a long day without ya.”
I couldn’t imagine what he was talking about. “I’mmm here.”
Claude checked the door again, then smiled and nodded to steer my attention in that direction. “Happy birthday, by the way. You don’t look a minute over twenty-five, twenty-six at the most.”
Laughing, I pushed against the table to turn myself toward the main entrance. Rebecca was standing on the welcome mat waiting for Teddy to come through the wheelchair door with a bundle of helium balloons. He was inching up the ramp one step at a time, carefully watching to see when the door would swish open. Finally, it did, and he rushed past with the balloons, lumbering into the lobby in a clatter of stomping shoes and bouncing cellophane. Everyone turned to look.
“Happy bird-day, Mama!” Teddy’s greeting burst into the room, filling the empty space. Suddenly, it felt like my birthday. I couldn’t have imagined a better gift than Teddy coming through the door in a flash of bright colors.
“Ted-dy ubb-boy!”
“Happy bird-day, Mama!” Teddy said again, and a moment later, he was in my arms, his body curled over the wheelchair. I held on, and we rocked back and forth with balloons bouncing everywhere. Teddy’s love filled every corner of me.
When I finally looked over Teddy’s shoulder, Rebecca was sniffling and wiping her eyes. “Happy birthday, Hanna Beth,” she said as Teddy stood up and presented the balloons. I couldn’t clutch them well enough, so Teddy tied them around my chair.
Beside me, Claude began clapping, and pretty soon everyone in the room was cheering for me, the birthday girl. It was a bit embarrassing, but I felt like a celebrity. Teddy began singing “Happy Birthday,” and everyone joined in. The administrator came out of her office and reminded us that we had several birthday girls and a birthday boy in the room. Teddy spread the balloons around, and we sang “Happy Birthday” again. I did my best to sing along. Between laughing, crying, and singing, I was out of breath by the time we were done.
Rebecca hugged me as Teddy took a balloon down the hall to a woman who was bedfast. “I’m sorry I didn’t know earlier about your birthday. Ifeoma called last night to tell me. We do have a little surprise for you, though.”
“So sssweet.” I looked around, expecting that perhaps now they would bring Edward in the door as my surprise, but I didn’t see him.
“Are you ready for a little trip?” Rebecca leaned close to my ear, as if she had a secret. “We’re busting you out of here.”
I jerked back against the chair. “Wwwhat?”
“We’re busting you out for the day,” she repeated, smiling broadly. “Your walking papers are in the works. Just as soon as Dr. Barnhill shows up, we’ll be headed home.”
“We gone get party, Mama,” Teddy added, crossing the room.
“Someone comin’ on air-pane.” Eyes flying wide, he slapped a hand over his mouth. “Oop! Don’ tell.” He snickered behind his hand, and I tried to imagine what he could possibly be talking about. Who would be flying in on an airplane to see me?
Dr. Barnhill came in the front door and joined us before I could ask any questions.
Claude quickly observed that Ouita Mae wasn’t with him. In spite of her lack of interest in Claude, he was certainly interested in her. “Where’d you leave your grandmother at, Doc?”
Dr. Barnhill cast a chagrinned look over his shoulder. “She’s out there taking cuttings off the bushes. She wants to try to root them at your place. I thought I’d better come in before we got arrested. She’ll be along in a minute.”
“That gal’s got a mind of her own,” Claude observed.
“She does that,” the doctor agreed, then turned his attention to me. “So, you’re headed for your first home visit a little early.”
“Yes,” I said, and felt a smile all over my body.
My jubilation was short-lived. “Gonna be lonesome around here,” Claude commented, and made an effort to smile through the melancholy, so as not to rain on my parade. “I’ll have to show Herb my book some more. I think he likes it when I do that.”
Poor Claude,
I thought. Herb didn’t even know he was there. An idea formed in my head so suddenly it was startling. “Yerrr book,” I said, and patted the table, then waved toward his room. “Yerrr book.” I waved empathically again.
Claude’s eyebrows knotted as he followed the motions, then scanned the circle of people around us. “I think they already seen my book.”
“Yer book,” I insisted, slapping the table so loudly the domino players in the corner turned to look.
Rebecca frowned at me. She probably didn’t want Claude to get started on one of his stories. “I don’t think . . .”
I slapped the table again, again, again, fully determined. Any minute now, Ouita Mae would come in the door, and we’d be all together in one place. All I needed was the picture of the boy on the yellow horse. “Yerrr book.”
Claude pedaled his wheelchair backward. “Well . . . I can go get it, if ya really want. . . .”
“Yesss.” I nodded, and he turned his chair toward the hallway with a confounded look.
Rebecca scratched the back of her head, squinting as Claude disappeared down the corridor, and Dr. Barnhill began giving instructions for my care and medication. I barely heard the conversation. I kept watching the hallway, willing Claude to come back.
Hurry up, hurry up,
I thought, as the conversation began winding down. Ouita Mae strolled in the door, the basket on her walker filled with cuttings she’d pilfered from the front bushes. Dr. Barnhill blanched, seeming eager to finish the conversation so that he could usher Ouita Mae and her cuttings out of the building.
“Grandma,”
he complained when she started grooming the cuttings and laying cast-off pieces on the table.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she answered. “All the extra work you put in here, I think we can take a few cuttings. It doesn’t hurt the bushes any. I’ll need some water to put them in.”
“There’s a cup in the car. Let’s go see Miss Hanna Beth out, and grab the cup.” He used his foot to nudge Ouita Mae’s walker toward the front door.
I reached out and caught her arm. “No.”
“Well, heaven’s sake.” She looked down at me and smiled. “You’d think a birthday girl headed home for a visit would be in more of a hurry than that. Now, don’t you let us slow you down. I need to get these plants in some water, anyhow.” She turned to her grandson with a purposeful look. “I’ll walk Hanna Beth out and wait on the bench.”
Dr. Barnhill nodded indulgently. “I’m not sure why I bother to make plans. . . .”
“Oh, hush up, now,” Ouita Mae chided. “I can still turn you over my knee, young man.”
Dr. Barnhill shook his head.
“Better get on, Hanna Beth,” Ouita Mae urged. “You don’t want to spend your birthday sitting here.”
“Wwwait!” I said, but Ouita Mae just shrugged helplessly and turned her walker from the table. “Come on, sweetie. You’ve got a big day ahead of you.” She glanced at Rebecca and smiled as Rebecca took my wheelchair handles and pulled me back.

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