“What does that mean?” I asked.
“I told him to relax, and he told me he is relaxed. I grew up in the Philippines, where he was stationed during the war, so we share a few phrases. It’s amazing, really. He has almost perfect retention of the Tagalog words he learned seventy-some years ago. And then some days he forgets who I am.”
“Alzheimer’s?”
She nodded.
“Is it bad?”
She smiled and gave a slight shrug. “He has good days and bad days. But he recognized your little brother right away, which is great.”
I thought back to Grandma and shivered, even though the day was hot. She’d had Alzheimer’s and I’d hated it, watching her become someone I didn’t recognize—someone who didn’t recognize me. I’d missed her before she was even dead, mourning the person she used to be, the Grandma who always knew how to make everyone feel loved and special.
“What’s your brother’s name?” the nurse asked, breaking through the memory.
“Manuel, but my mom calls him Manny. I call him Grub.”
“And what does he call himself?”
“Private Grub,” I said, raising my eyebrows.
She laughed, and I noticed she had the same smile as Rose. “Of course.” She waved at Grub and gave him a salute, then turned back to me. “I’m Mary Santos. That’s Sergeant John Porter, but everyone calls him Blackjack.”
“Nice to meet you, Mary. I’m Zeus.”
“Nice to meet you, Zeus. Making another delivery?” she asked, nodding to the cooler in the bike basket.
“Sort of. I guess the director didn’t like the salad yesterday, so it’s more of a complimentary kind of thing.”
“I see. Well, I believe Ms. Stouffer is in the common room with some of the residents, if you want to head in.”
“Great— Uh, will there be music today?”
“Every weekday from one to three,” she said with the same knowing look my own mom had given me last night.
I shifted uncomfortably until Blackjack saved me.
“Get me out of this jungle, I’m sweating my balls off!” he bellowed.
“Panoorin ang iyong wika!” Mary scolded, going over to retrieve him.
I didn’t know what that meant, but I imagined it had to do with him talking about his balls. I followed them back to the arched entryway, and much like the day before, Grub crawled, rolled, and dove ahead of us. As we entered the building, a wave of Lysol hit my nose again.
That was going to take some getting used to.
The same woman sat behind the reception desk, but she must have recognized us from the day before because she waved us in and returned to what she was doing. As we continued down the hall, I could hear the piano. My heart skipped a beat and I felt a quick rush of adrenaline. As we got closer, I noticed the music had a much different tone compared to the Tom Jones dance party yesterday. It was nostalgic and sad and hopeful all at the same time.
When the end of the hallway opened into the common area, I saw the mood of the music had permeated the room like a haze. No one danced, no one sang. Hell, no one even stood, except for Missy Stouffer, who walked around writing on a clipboard. Everyone else had been hypnotized by the piano’s soaring, wistful notes, lifting them far away from Hilltop Nursing Home. I looked over to Rose at the piano, expecting her to wink, or smile, or somehow make me blush, but she looked straight down at the keys, fully immersed in the music. It was beautiful.
She was beautiful.
I could have stood there and listened to Rose play all day, but Missy spotted me like a hawk on a field mouse. It took her a moment, but when she recognized me, she held her hands out and shook her head quickly, her body language saying, “What do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?” I held up the box containing the soup and brownie. She repeated the same motion as before, even more exaggerated this time.
Screw it, I thought, and started walking over to her. Realizing she was going to have to deal with me, she approached me as well. We met at the edge of the seating area.
She spoke in a loud whisper. “What are you doing here? I specifically canceled my order yesterday.”
I matched her loud whisper. “Yes, you did. We’re just offering a complimentary cup of tomato bisque soup and a triple chocolate brownie as a way to say thanks for your business.”
Her eyes narrowed as she peered at me over her red frames. “Triple chocolate brownie?” she asked, attempting to hide her interest.
“It’s made with all-natural ingredients. The chocolate is imported from—”
She cut me off, grabbing the box from my hands. “I’ll take it. Thank you.” She spun back into the common room and hissed at Rose. “Play something cheerful, you’re upsetting the residents.”
I looked over to Rose, who hadn’t noticed I was there yet. She smiled tightly, then transitioned straight into “If You’re Happy and You Know It” without missing a note. Missy tried rousing the crowd by singing the words and acting them out, only to be met by a few off-timed claps, thuds, and groans.
“Why don’t we get special deliveries? The food here tastes like horseshit!” yelled the Tom Jones Cackling Woman from yesterday. The two old ladies beside her grumbled in agreement.
Missy whipped around on her heel. “Letty Kowalczyk, if you don’t watch your language, you’ll need to stay in your room during activity time.”
“Oh, go on!” called Letty. “You know this place would be duller than a pig’s ass without me!”
Missy took a deep breath and turned to one of the nurses on duty. “Please remind Mrs. Kowalczyk that her profanity upsets the residents and is inappropriate in group settings.” She clipped away toward her office, opening the cardboard box as she went.
“Of course, Ms. Stouffer,” said the nurse, though Ms. Stouffer was already well out of hearing range by then.
Letty glanced at her two sidekicks and rolled her eyes.
By the look of things in the room now, Rose was on the “if you’re happy and you know it, fall asleep” verse. I checked the clock. Almost three o’clock on the dot. Rose would be finishing soon. That meant—what? Run up to her, drop the box on the ground, and run away? No way. Loser move. I’d have to say something first. “My name is Zeus. I’ve brought you a brownie.” No, too formal. “I’ve been watching you play. I brought you a brownie.” That made me sound like a stalker. “Hey, what’s up? My name’s Zeus.” Perfect. Then go for the handshake and compliment her playing. Solid plan. Smooth as silk. Anything after that would be a bonus.
Now was my chance.
I checked Grub’s status. He’d hidden behind the potted plant as soon as he’d seen Missy. Good. He could hunker down there for now.
I’m not going to lie—my heart was pounding out of my chest at that point. Rose finished the song and one of the nurses addressed the residents, telling them music time was over. The ones that could stood and shuffled past me, while others were wheeled away.
And then, it was just the three of us in the room. I was only ten feet away from the piano. Rose pulled the sliding black cover over the keys, then walked toward me.