Virgin Flyer

He let out a deep sigh and put his hands on my shoulders. “I know. I know what I said. But I’m just… Dad is working me to death on this German deal, and Grandpa wants to have his finger in every piece of it even though he should be long retired by now. As soon as the deal is all closed and contracts are signed, we’ll talk. Okay? Right now I just…” He glanced in Jay’s direction before lowering his voice even further. “I just need you to be the one area of my life where I don’t feel so much pressure. Can you do that for me?”

I stepped forward and gave him a hug. “I can do that,” I said. “Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

His hands rubbed up and down my back. “I know, Tee. You’re my one safe place, and I love that about you.”

I swallowed around the lump in my throat, grateful that he recognized that I didn’t mean to pressure him. I simply wanted to be with him the way I’d anticipated for so long.

He pulled away and tapped me on the nose. “Now. I’m starving. You make the eggs, and I’ll start the coffee.”

After a nice breakfast, I headed home to shower and change before heading to work. As had been happening more and more lately, my workday turned quickly from consulting input on current projects to keeping an eye on Grandpa Banks. It took three instances of being asked to come get him out of Chris and Mike’s meeting with the lawyers before I finally decided to duck out early for our visit to see Hattie.

At Wilton Manors, everyone at the senior care facility greeted me with big smiles and a warm welcome. I’d made a point to stop by and visit with my favorite patients and coworkers as often as I could, but it hadn’t been enough. A lot had happened since I’d left my job there. Mrs. Singh had passed away, leaving Mr. Kelly devastated. The Johnson twins had been forced into separate rooms when Judy’s dementia had turned a corner into violent behavior toward Jackie. And my favorite nurse tech was pregnant with twins.

We knocked on Hattie’s door and walked in when she called out.

“What’s that?” she asked, nodding toward the little pot of daffodils I’d brought her.

“First sign of spring. Thought you could use it,” I said, setting the pot down on the table next to her recliner. Her face lit up with a smile, and she reached hands out to both Grandpa Banks and me.

“Sit and tell me everything that’s happened since I saw you two last,” she said.

I let her brother take charge of the conversation, but when he began to tell her about the German deal the company was signing, my ears perked up.

“Marie’s parents are buried in Wiesbaden,” he explained. “She always wanted to go back someday for a final visit, but she declined too quickly to make it.”

His wife had passed away after having several strokes while Chris was in college. I remembered her as being very quiet but extremely kind. “I forgot she was German,” I said.

His smile was full of memories. “Yes. She grew up outside of Frankfurt. Her nephew is one of the administrators at the hospital we’re talking to there. That’s how this consulting opportunity started. I keep explaining to Mike and Chris that if I could just go meet with him in person, it would make a difference. I met him several times when he was growing up. He’s always had a good head on his shoulders.”

Hattie asked more questions about his trips with Marie to visit family, but it didn’t take long before Grandpa Banks and I both noticed her fading.

“We’ll head out and let you rest before lunch,” I told her, standing up to help Grandpa Banks out of his chair. “I’m going to make this guy earn his lunch with a walk first.”

She snickered at her brother. “I finally got the Teo monkey off my back and onto yours, hm?”

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “He’s good company. Takes excellent care of me too. Your loss.”

She winked at me. “And that’s the truth. Come back soon, all right?”

“Of course,” I said, leaning in for a gentle hug. She smelled so familiar, like the body lotion I’d spent hours rubbing into her skin when I’d worked there. The scent pulled back memories of how good it had felt taking care of her. I remembered overnight shifts where the woman in the suite next door to Hattie’s would wake from nightmares and ask me to sing the Happy Birthday song over and over again to help her fall back to sleep. After several nights of hearing me singing, Hattie had finally asked me why Mrs. Cohen wanted that particular song. “Because it reminds her of being around her family,” I’d told her. “And they haven’t been to see her in over six months.”