Rose quickly finished the song and headed over.
The Bettys had launched themselves closer, trapping me against the couch. As I pondered the odds of successfully squeezing between them, their eyes raised to the distance.
“Aw, shit!” said one.
“Fun’s over,” said the other.
Letty leaned in close and whispered, “Follow my lead, kiddo.” She lifted a leg and rested her foot on my knee. Her nightgown fell away, exposing a pale, skinny leg.
The nursing home director, Missy Stouffer, appeared, clipboard in hand, red-rimmed glasses perched at the end of her nose. She looked at me with eyebrows raised, waiting for an explanation.
“Do you have a visitor’s badge?” she asked with an “I’m not messing around” look.
“He’s not a visitor, he’s my personal volunteer. Isn’t that right?” Letty said, looking at me. I nodded back, confused. “He’s rubbing my bunions. Helps with the swelling.” Letty tilted her head at me, then to her foot, then back at me. I formed a pincer with my thumb and forefinger, removed her pink slipper, and started rubbing. I looked at Ms. Stouffer and nodded.
“Volunteer,” I spat, unsure of what I’d just committed myself to, but hoping it’d be over soon.
Mary had reappeared behind Ms. Stouffer, along with Grub and Blackjack and a perky-looking woman with bright red hair whose name tag read Candy.
“That’s right, Ms. Stouffer,” said Mary, putting a hand on Grub’s shoulder. “And this little soldier has been volunteering with Mr. Porter, whose short-term memory has been improving after his visits.”
“You’re goddamned right,” Blackjack said, glaring at Ms. Stouffer.
Ms. Stouffer cleared her throat and pushed up her glasses. “I see.” Then she turned to the redheaded woman. “Candy, as volunteer coordinator, I expect you have their paperwork in order?”
“I’ll have it on your desk first thing tomorrow,” Candy said, looking at me and smiling broadly, though her eyes said “don’t even think about leaving here without filling out those papers.”
I nodded back, suddenly understanding I’d just been volunteered for more than an afternoon. Crap. The last thing I’d planned on doing this summer was becoming a nursing home bunion rubber. I wondered if it was too late to change my mind, but then Rose caught my attention. She smiled and nodded eagerly, mouthing the words “Do it!”
And that was that.
“Count us in,” I said to Missy.
“Well then,” said Missy, looking at me and Grub. “Welcome to the Hilltop community. We appreciate your service,” she added thinly, then marched off to her office, clipboard clasped to her chest.
“Thanks,” I said to Candy and Mary, who still stood behind me. I looked over at Letty. “You too,” I added.
“Sure thing.” She wiggled her foot. “Who told you to stop rubbing?”
I rubbed.
“Hey there,” Rose said, biting back a smile as she joined the rest of us by the couch.
“Hey there,” I said back. I worked at Letty’s bunion with one hand and held the Rice Krispie treat in the other, while everyone watched. I felt like a confused zoo monkey with a crowd of field trip students pointing and watching as I did monkey things.
“This is for you,” I said, holding out the box to Rose.
“Thanks, kiddo!” said Letty, grabbing it. “The food here tastes like horseshit.”
THIRTEEN
DUE TO MY NEW VOLUNTEER STATUS AT HILLTOP, I NOW HAD AN EXCUSE to see Rose every weekday after finishing my deliveries. And Dylan’s sister, Maggie, had ordered the 5-Day Deal, asking to be the last delivery of the day to accommodate her work schedule. So each afternoon at two, Grub and I would stop by Dylan’s before heading to Hilltop.
Though newly mobile, Dylan hadn’t been authorized by his doctor to return to work at the moving company, so he seemed to appreciate our daily visits. The feeling was mutual all around, and the visits lasted longer each time. While Dylan and I talked music, guitar, and girls, Grub played in the backyard with Agatha.
As for Hilltop and Rose, I still hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask her to dinner. Admittedly, the nursing home common room wasn’t exactly the ideal location to have a private conversation. Mostly I’d just steal glances at Rose while she played the piano, then make small talk with her and the residents until it was time to leave.
By Friday though, I was determined to make my move. There was no way I’d survive a whole weekend without seeing her. That afternoon, while Rose played songs like “Somewhere over the Rainbow” and “Moon River,” I sat at a table with Letty, filling in some adult coloring books. And by adult, I mean adult. Add that to the list of things I had no idea existed. Letty’s granddaughter had dropped them off earlier, before I’d arrived.
Letty broke the silence.
“So, you grow some balls yet, kid?”
The tip of my colored pencil snapped off. “What?” I asked.
She let out a soft, throaty chuckle. “You and I both know why you’re here every day, and it’s not to color, is it?” She nodded toward the piano, then a second time, to emphasize her point.
“What do you mean?” I asked. I knew exactly what she meant.
“Oh, come on, you look over there every ten seconds! And when you’re not looking at her, she’s looking at you.”
I twisted my colored pencil in the sharpener, caught dead to rights. I leaned closer to Letty. “Is it that obvious?”
Letty leaned closer to me. “Does the pope shit in the woods?”
I laughed. “I think it’s ‘Does a bear shit in the woods?’ or ‘Is the pope Catholic?’”
“What’d I say?”
“Neither of those things.”
Letty considered this for a moment, then cackled and slapped her knee. “I never was too good at telling other people’s jokes.”
I was about to respond when Rose appeared out of nowhere. “Hey, how’s it going, you two?” she asked.
“Oh, hey! Going well, just . . .”
Just what? Just coloring shirtless men?
“Just finishing up,” I mumbled.
Letty interrupted. “Sweet Baby Jesus, would you tell her already?”
Rose looked at Letty, then back at me, confused.
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
Letty took the stage. “In my day, if a guy wanted a gal, he told her. On the other hand, when I first laid eyes on my Dickey, God rest his soul, I knew what I wanted and I told him.” She stood and patted us both on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you two alone now.” Then she danced away from the table—albeit stiffly—while singing: “I got rhythm, I got music, I got my man, who could ask for anything more?”
We watched her shuffle away. Then Rose looked at me shyly.
The saliva suddenly disappeared from my mouth. I blinked and tried to smile, which probably looked more like a snarl. I had two options now: (1) collapse to the ground and explain how my spine had suddenly disappeared or (2) stop snarling and ask Rose to dinner.
Say something nice, ask her out.
“Do you eat dinner?” I blurted at Rose, more aggressively than intended.
Rose jumped. “Dinner?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and shut my eyes. “I mean you and me.”