Yoss grinned, brightening instantly. “Holly, this is my girlfriend Imogen. Imogen, this is Holly, my favorite nurse.”
Holly beamed, clearly tickled by Yoss’s words. “I bet you say that to all of the nurses,” she scolded him good-naturedly.
“Nice to meet you, Holly,” I said, holding out my hand for her to shake. If she thought our dirty, untidy appearance strange, she never let on.
“And nice to meet you too, Imogen. You kids can go on back. I think she’s in the common room,” Holly told Yoss.
“Thanks,” Yoss said, leading me down the hallway.
He seemed both eager and hesitant. His fingers were a death grip on mine.
We stepped through a doorway into a brightly lit room. It was full of people but it was strangely quiet, the only noise coming from the soft drone of the television mounted to the wall.
A couple of elderly men were playing a game of chess. A woman was reading a book in a large chair by the picture windows. A few residents were walking with the help of an aide. They all appeared clean and well taken care of. But none of them looked particularly happy. Mostly they seemed resigned. As if they were simply killing time.
“There she is,” Yoss murmured under his breath, indicating a frail looking woman sitting at a table near the back of the room. Her head, covered in a cloud of messy white hair, was bent over a large jigsaw puzzle.
I felt nervous. Unnerved.
I was meeting Yoss’s family. I felt grossly unprepared for what this would mean to him. To the both of us.
I followed him through the room until we were standing beside his grandmother. She didn’t look up, too absorbed in what she was doing.
Which, honestly, didn’t seem like a whole lot. She wasn’t putting pieces together. She simply moved them around the table in swirling patterns.
“Gran,” Yoss said softly, putting his hand on her shoulder. He was tense as he waited for her to respond. We were both holding our breath.
Then slowly she reached up and put her hand on top of his. Her rheumy eyes looked up at him and she smiled.
Yoss smiled back, his entire face lighting up. I hung back a little.
“Hi Gran, sorry it’s been so long,” Yoss said, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from her. He glanced at me and nodded towards the chair beside him. I sat down, tucking my hands in my lap.
“Hello,” his grandmother said, continuing to grin at the both of us.
“This is Imogen, Gran,” Yoss told her. “She’s my girlfriend.”
His grandmother began to fiddle with a gold chain around her neck. A small locket rested in the hollow of her throat and she caressed it gently as she looked back and forth between the two of us.
“Oh. That’s nice,” she said absently.
Yoss’s smile faded a little. “Do you remember who I am?”
His grandmother giggled. It was a strange sound. High pitched. Out of place. She covered her mouth with her hand as if she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t.
“Of course I do, silly,” she chastised, smiling brightly. “You’re the boy that lives down the road. You help Charles with the yard work. Are you here to pick up the money he owes you?” His grandmother patted her pockets and frowned. “It seems he forgot to leave it. If you come by tomorrow, I can pay you then.”
“That’s okay. Your husband already paid me,” Yoss replied, his voice breaking slightly. “I just wanted to come for a visit, if that’s okay. Maybe help you with your puzzle.” His hands trembled slightly as he reached out to pick up a piece of the jigsaw closest to him.
His grandmother’s smile widened. “That would be lovely. I’m just waiting for Elizabeth to come home from her friend’s house.” She turned to me. “Elizabeth is my daughter. She’s nine. This is the first time I let her walk to her friend’s house on her own. She’s growing up so fast.”
I felt my heart sink. For Yoss. For this woman who was slowly losing her mind.
“Yes, kids do grow up fast,” I agreed, not knowing what else to say.
“Do you worry your mother like my Elizabeth worries me? Always wanting to go out and play by yourself?” she asked, her eyes clear and vivid. The exact same shade of green as her grandson’s. It was almost disconcerting to see much-loved eyes on a stranger’s face.
“I don’t think my mother worries about me like that,” I told her truthfully.
Yoss was being uncharacteristically quiet. He was still holding the puzzle piece, watching his grandmother closely.
The older woman reached out and patted my arm, startling me. “I sincerely doubt that. You seem like a lovely young woman. I’m sure she worries about you all the time. Though I think your mother should be relieved you’re choosing to spend your time with such a nice boy.” She returned her smile to her grandson, never knowing how she broke his heart.
“Thank you, Mrs. Butler,” Yoss said, sounding as though he were choking on his words.