Emilie Richards – Endless Chain (страница 20)

“Like the sun and the moon.”

“Good. Here’s what she told me.” Elisa gave a short explanation of cycles, temperature and ovulation prediction kits. “And once you’ve calculated when you are most likely to be fertile, you don’t have sex five days before and five days afterward.”

“Ten days? Ten whole days?”

“If you want to be very careful and not take chances.”

“Diego will know.”

“I think my sister’s husband knows, as well. But he doesn’t mind.” Unfortunately, Elisa was afraid that Diego was going to mind very much, even if he and Adoncia weren’t yet married.

Adoncia sounded worried. “It will take work.”

“It would be less work to use another more reliable method.”

“No,” Adoncia said firmly.

Elisa knew that without Diego’s cooperation, this plan was flawed, at best. But she respected Adoncia’s views. This was her body, her religion, her right.

“Diego will be a guest in my house,” Adoncia said. “If I tell him we don’t make love, then we don’t. If he questions me, I will send him to sleep on the sofa.”

Elisa knew how much Diego loved her friend, and how badly he wanted children. She hoped Adoncia could keep him at arm’s length when needed.

She made supper, and afterward Adoncia cleaned the kitchen. The children fell asleep early, and Elisa managed to take an evening nap before it was time to dress for her drive to the nursing home.

When Adoncia’s thirteen-year-old minivan had been available, Elisa had also driven, since her friend was not in need of her car at that late hour. But more often the minivan rested on blocks on the side of the trailer, with some part removed by Diego for repair, and Elisa had been on her own and on foot.

The late shift began at eleven, and the roads were always eerily silent. She had never relished this walk in the darkness, although it could be accomplished in fifteen minutes. The area was still rural enough that wildlife abounded. She had seen raccoons and foxes, and once a family of white-tailed deer crossed her path, never once glancing at the odd two-legged creature trudging to work. Unfortunately, she had never shaken the unlikely notion there might be bears watching, as well. Or men with evil intentions.

Tonight she parked in the employees’ section of the lot, and enjoyed every moment of locking up and pocketing her own keys. She reminded herself not to get used to this luxury, that the car was a loan that could be taken back at any time. If nothing else, the past three years had taught her to appreciate what she had, but not to hang on to it tightly.

Inside she punched the time clock and put her purse in her locker. On her way to the central nurses’ desk she greeted staff, admiring one aide’s new haircut and accepting a cup of coffee from another who was just leaving the break room. At the desk she greeted the nurse on duty and chatted a few minutes before tackling the day log. She caught up on her unit, scanning notes from all shifts since her last and initialing the notes to show she had read them.

On her own unit, she and Kathy, the aide she was replacing, did a crossover, making sure Elisa knew everything she needed to about what had gone on before, who to watch out for and special problems she might encounter. Kathy, middle-aged and exhausted, already had her keys out. She was looking forward to a glass of wine and the several hours of reality shows she had videotaped.

“Did anyone have visitors?” Elisa asked. Visitors were never an issue on her shift, but sometimes the previous shift experienced problems settling residents after family left for the night.

“Mrs. Lovett’s daughter came, but Mrs. L. was glad to see her go, and so was I. There were a couple of others, but no problems afterward.”

Elisa didn’t look up from the small spiral notebook where she kept her own notes. “How about Martha Wisner? I saw she had visitors day before yesterday. People from her church?”

“Nobody today. I don’t think she has any family. At least no one she’s close to. But the church people come regularly.”

“I’m working at her church now, too,” Elisa said. “They showed me a quilt they’re making for her. Maybe they already gave it to her?”

“The one with the leaves? It’s really something. The ladies signed their names on the back. It’s a good way to help her stay in touch with her memories. If you get the chance and she’s up, you could ask her about it.”

“I’ll do that.” Elisa finished her notes, then said goodbye to Kathy, who couldn’t get out quickly enough. The aide liked her job, but by shift’s end she was always ready to head home.

Kathy had done rounds as her shift came to a close, but as she always did, Elisa went from room to room checking on the residents and making sure they were asleep, or at least contented. The unit was a transitional one. None of the residents here suffered from serious dementia, but none fit into the assisted living wing, either. They needed a secure unit and regular supervision. Some were returning from hospital stays and needed daily nursing care. Sadly, some were headed toward the Alzheimer’s unit, where the care was more specialized and controlled. For now, though, they were able to live with less care and fewer restrictions.

One resident was awake and insisted on a shower. Elisa helped her in and out, and laid out a fresh nightgown. Another couldn’t find a book. Elisa found it and helped her get comfortable in bed, making a mental note to come back in a little while to put the book away and turn out the light.

She was not surprised to find so many residents awake. “Sundowning” was a common enough occurrence here and nearly universal on the Alzheimer’s unit. The internal clock of many of the residents was turned around, and they preferred to sleep during the day and be active at night. Although the staff tried hard to readjust the residents’ sense of time, they were often not successful.

Halfway down the hall, she peeked into Martha Wisner’s room, but the old woman was fast asleep and everything was in order. She passed on.

Hours later, when she returned to do Martha’s vitals, she found her sitting up, staring out the window into the darkness.

Martha was a short woman, with a thick head of permed white hair, and a round face with smooth pink cheeks and furrowed brow. She was dressed in a long cotton gown, which fell straight from her shoulders and outlined neither breasts nor hips.

“Martha? You’re up awfully early,” Elisa told her. “It’s not even five a.m.”

“Is it time for dinner?”

Elisa had sometimes awakened from a nap unsure where she had fallen asleep or what time of day it was. She imagined this was the way many of the residents on this unit felt, only for them, a little light through a windowpane, a glance at the clock, didn’t solve the mystery. She could relate to the confusion and empathize.

“It’s not quite time for breakfast,” Elisa told her. “The sun will be up very soon though. It’s early morning.”

“Didn’t I just have lunch?”

“No. You had dinner about twelve hours ago. That’s why you’re hungry.”

“I want to eat now.”

Although it was best to keep the residents on schedule for meals, Elisa was also allowed to bend the rules. She was sure Martha would not go back to sleep.

“I’ll bring you cereal. Then you can eat a hot breakfast with the others later.” There was a small dining area where the residents could eat their meals together if they chose. Some enjoyed the company.

“And juice?”

“And juice. I’ll be right back.”

Elisa returned a few minutes later with a tray. She wondered if Martha would remember asking for it and was pleased to find that she did. She settled the old woman in a chair and set the tray on a table in front of her.

“Let me check your vitals first,” she told her. She used the wrist meter that measured temperature, blood pressure, pulse and respiration, and recorded the data. Then she took the cover off the tray.

“Orange juice. Good. And I like this cereal.” Martha looked pleased.

Elisa watched her pour milk from the small carton and mix it into her Special K. “How do you feel? Did you sleep well?”

“Are you new?”

“No. But I’m not here as often as some of the others. I’m Elisa Martinez.”

Martha paused, as if searching her memory. Then she shook her head. “I haven’t met you before.”

Martha’s lack of recognition wasn’t a good sign. She and Martha had spoken many times. “Well, I’ll be working at the Shenandoah Community Church when I’m not working here. I’ve just been hired to be the new sexton. You remember the church?”

Martha frowned. For a moment Elisa was afraid she had forgotten that, too; then Martha nodded her head. “Of course, and do you think I can’t remember my own name?”

Elisa smiled. “People there care very much about you.”

“They gave me something.” Martha added new furrows to her brow. “Just lately.” The furrows smoothed. “A quilt. In the dresser over there. Will you get it for me?”

Elisa found the quilt folded neatly in the bottom drawer. She shook it out and took it back to Martha. “It’s lovely. Look at the colors.” She turned it over. “And look, here are the names of the women who made it for you.” She read them out loud, coming to Helen Henry at the end. “Helen Henry. I’m going to be living with her for a while. Her quilts are beautiful.”