Mystic Park (Finding Home 4)

“Actually, Aunt Helen, I’ve been worried for a while.” It was a relief to get that off her chest.

“You’ve been here since March twenty-first. It’s now May twentieth. In the past two months, have I fallen?”

“No.” Why would she ask me that?

“Have I set the house on fire?”

“No.” Benita had a sense of the direction this conversation was taking.

“Have I had any car accidents or given away all of my money to questionable charities?”

“You know you haven’t.”

“And so do you.” Ms. Helen adjusted the shoulder strap of her purse. “So your only cause for concern is my age—a number. Well, darling, that’s not good enough to convince me to indulge you.”

“Let’s at least take a tour of the residence.” Benita waved an arm toward the veranda. “You haven’t even seen it.”

Ms. Helen jabbed a finger toward the structure. “I’m not stepping one foot into that place.”

“But we’ve driven all this way.” Benita wanted to stomp her foot in frustration. She’d researched a dozen nearby assisted living facilities, interviewed their directors, reviewed their literature and Web sites. The least her great-aunt could do was tour one facility.

“That’s the other thing.” Ms. Helen’s voice shook with outrage. “This old age home isn’t even in Trinity Falls. It’s in Sequoia.”

“It’s not far from Trinity Falls.” Why wouldn’t her great-aunt at least give the place a chance? “You’ll make new friends here who are your own age.”

“I like the friends—young and old—that I have in Trinity Falls.” Ms. Helen crossed her arms over her small chest. “You just don’t get it, do you, Benny? If you’d stop looking at the number of years I’ve been on this earth, you’d have to admit that I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”

“Aunt Helen—”

“I’m not finished.” Her tone was stern. “With the friends I have, I don’t need to move into an old age home. The difference between living on my own in Trinity Falls and living in this so-called assisted living facility is that, the people who check on me at my home make the time to do so because they love me. Not because I’m paying them to look in on me as they can.”

She hadn’t meant to upset her great-aunt. How could she explain that she’d had the best of intentions? “Aunt Helen, I know your friends stop by to check on you and help around your house. But your house is still a lot to take care of on your own.”

“It’s my house.” Ms. Helen raised her right hand, palm out. “Benny, as long as you’re not going to listen to me, I’m going to stop talking. You can tour the old age home if you’d like. Unlock the car and I’ll wait for you here.”

Benita looked from the large assisted living facility to her tiny great-aunt’s rigid back as Ms. Helen waited beside the passenger door. She considered the parade of people whose habit it was to stop by her great-aunt’s house every day, starting with Ean and Megan, who checked in at six o’clock in the morning at the end of their jog. Alonzo arrived at noon, Doreen at four o’clock, and Darius after work around six in the evening. There were others, like Vaughn, Audra, and Jackson, whose visits were more random. But still, they stopped by every day.

Her great-aunt had a point. These were her friends who loved her enough to want to check on her welfare. Then they’d stay to help with repairs like changing a lightbulb, replacing a wooden step, clearing her gutters, or mowing her law. There wasn’t a need for her great-aunt to uproot her life. No one could care for her more or better. It was time for Benita to eat crow.

She pressed a button on her keychain to deactivate her alarm and unlock her car. She opened the door for her great-aunt. “I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

Ms. Helen looked from the door to Benita. “No more talking about old age homes?”

“I promise. Besides, the way your friends hold court for you, I shouldn’t mess with a good thing.”

Ms. Helen chuckled as she settled onto her seat. “You should have such good friends when you’re my age.”

Benita froze as her thoughts sped forward. She’d never have the kinds of friendships Ms. Helen had even if she lived the rest of her life in L.A. All of her really good friends were in Trinity Falls. Without Vaughn, Benita’s future in the Golden State looked very bleak.

“How would you feel about being neighbors?”

Ms. Helen frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’m thinking of making an offer on Doreen’s house.”

“You’re moving back to Trinity Falls?” Ms. Helen’s jaw dropped.

“I might be.” Benita closed her great-aunt’s passenger door, then circled the hood to get behind the car’s steering wheel.