Lost Daughters (13 page)

L
ORETTA'S FACE HAD BEEN BURNING QUITE A BIT IN THE LAST FEW MINUTES.
Now it was sizzling like a bonfire. She thought she was going to melt as she sat there looking at Maureen with her lips quivering.

“Did I miss somethin'?” Maureen asked, looking from Loretta to Mel as she padded across the floor to the refrigerator, talking with her back to them. “Y'all didn't have to stop talkin' on my account.”

“Uh, Mel was just tellin' me that everything you just said makes a lot of sense,” Loretta lied, looking to Mel for confirmation. “I'm glad you feel that way, Mel,” she added, gently kicking his bare foot under the table. She turned her head so that Maureen couldn't see her wink at Mel.

“See there. I was right all along and I'm glad you realize that now.” Maureen closed the refrigerator door without removing anything. “I guess I need to run to the store and get some milk. I also need to go out to the mall and pick up some of those funny-looking white shoes that nurses wear. That's what I'll be wearin' with the scrubs the nursin' home will provide for me to work in. I would invite y'all to go shoppin' with me, but I told Catty and Fast Black that I'd meet them later on for a drink,” Maureen announced.

“Oh, you go right ahead. I have to finish my homework,” Loretta said. “Finals are comin' up.”

Maureen looked at Mel and tilted her head to the side. “You want to come with me, baby? I know you don't care much for Catty or Fast Black, but they like you and keep tellin' me they want to get to know you better. I'm sure they won't mind if you tag along.”

Mel's stomach turned as if he had just stepped into a pile of shit. He would rather shovel that pile of shit than spend time in a bar drinking with Catty and Fast Black. He shook his head so hard his ears rang. “Oh, no, I have some paperwork to go over and some prints to develop. I have that cruise ship assignment coming up next week, too, so I need to move a lot of other things off my plate. Maybe I'll join you and your homegirls the next time.”

Maureen gave Mel a wistful look. “Don't you work too hard, Mel. You startin' to look and act real tired lately. I know you love your work, but I don't like that your job is wearin' you down to a frazzle.”

Mel had been looking and acting more tired than usual, but it had nothing to do with his work. Loretta was the only “job” that was wearing him down to a frazzle. It was getting harder and harder for him to keep up with her enormous sexual appetite. She was like a junkie and he was her drug of choice. Besides, in addition to him having the time of his life (especially after all of the trouble that those other bitches in his past had put him through), he chose to look on the bright side of his current situation. His vigorous workouts with Loretta kept him in such good shape that he no longer had to go to the gym. Another thing about Loretta was that as long as she fulfilled his needs, he would do whatever it took to keep her satisfied. If that meant fucking her eight or nine times a week like he'd been doing lately, that was fine with him.

As soon as they heard Maureen's car pull out of the driveway, Loretta sprinted across the floor toward Mel. She leaped into his arms like a jackrabbit. She threw her head back and began to moan and groan and kick her legs back and forth like somebody having a fit. In a way she was having a fit—a fit of ecstasy.

Cradling Loretta like a big baby, Mel darted into her bedroom huffing and puffing.

 

The following Sunday around six in the evening, Maureen drove to Virgil's house. Mel and Loretta had left right after breakfast to do a shoot in Tampa. Loretta was going to be the lead model in an ad for a boutique that specialized in trendy clothing for young girls.

Virgil was glad that Maureen was making a career move so that she would have more time to spend with Loretta. He was glad that things were going so well in her life and he prayed that things would get even better. Shortly after she'd arrived, he got nosy. “By the way, how is married life treatin' you, Mo'reen?”

“Everything is as sweet as pie. It's so nice to have Mel livin' in the house. Just to let you know, him and Loretta told me they plan to cut back on her modelin' jobs so she and I can spend more time together. This nursin' home job came right on time. It's goin' to be hard, but I don't really care. I'll do whatever I have to do to make a good life for my child and my husband.”

“I'm so glad to hear that,” Virgil said, relieved. It looked like everything was going to work out just fine. The way things were going for Maureen, there was a chance that he would
never
tell her about her background. His feelings about having a moral obligation to do so had changed over the years. Some days he didn't think telling her was that important, and some days he did. Especially on the days when he told himself that if he had been the baby that Mama Ruby had kidnapped, he would certainly want to know.

Spending time with Virgil and Corrine turned out to be one of the most pleasant evenings that Maureen had experienced in a long time. They watched a couple of TV programs, drank two pitchers of lemonade, and caught each other up on the latest gossip.

She returned home to an empty apartment. Loretta had left a message on the answering machine telling her not to bother cooking because she and Mel were going to have dinner at the Cracker Barrel before they left Tampa.

It had been a long day for Maureen and she didn't realize how tired she was. She fell asleep on the couch watching an
I Love Lucy
rerun.

When Maureen opened her eyes several hours later, she was pleased to see that Mel and Loretta had come home. Mel was in bed snoring like a moose. Before Maureen removed her clothes and joined him, she checked on Loretta. She was curled up in a fetal position and was sleeping like a baby.

Maureen felt like making love. She thought that a good workout would be a nice way to relieve some of the tension she had been experiencing the past few days. She tried to shake Mel awake. This was the first time she had ever made such a bold move regarding sex with him. When shaking him didn't work, she grabbed his limp penis and gave it a good squeeze. That aroused him.

“Girl, you stop that! You know a man my age can't always get it up—” Mel caught himself. He and Loretta had made love before and after their visit to the Cracker Barrel. As a matter of fact, they had ordered their food to go. The rip-roaring sex and the drive to and from Tampa had Mel feeling every one of his forty-one years. He almost rolled out of the bed when he realized where he was and that it was his wife in bed with him.

“
Girl?
Thank you, baby. It's been years since I was a girl,” Maureen giggled. “I don't count how often the old white folks around here like to refer to all black females as
girl
,” she said, rubbing Mel's thigh. “I'm your girl now.” She was trying so hard to love this man, and she was glad that she did have more feelings of affection toward him now than she did before she married him.

“Hi, baby,” Mel mumbled, lifting his head just high enough to give her a quick peck on her cheek. “You looked so tired and peaceful on that couch I didn't wake you up, plus you have to get up so early in the morning to get to that nursing home for your first day.” He sat up and placed his arm around Maureen's naked shoulder.

“I'm not that tired,” she insisted, rubbing his thigh even harder. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and then at Mel's crotch. She was doing everything she could think of to show him how hard she was trying to make their marriage seem like a normal one. They were still newlyweds. The least they could do was make love as often as most newlyweds did.

“Oh,” he said, forcing a smile as he reached for her. He made love to her like he was jacking off—no tenderness, no foreplay, and no passion. It made Maureen feel like she was a piece of wood. His clumsy performance helped relieve her tension, but she was glad when it was over. Knowing what a long day he had endured, she managed to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Afterward, Maureen went to the bathroom, and when she returned to her bed just a few minutes later, Mel was once again snoring like a moose.

She got very little sleep that night. Despite her odd “interview” with Mrs. Larsen and a few other apprehensions, she was looking forward to her new job.

However, her first day was almost her last.

C
ATTY HAD TOLD MAUREEN THAT A FEW AIDES HAD QUIT AFTER ONLY A
few hours on the job. One had quit after only fifteen minutes. Could the job be that bad? Maureen wondered.

All kinds of crazy thoughts had already begun to run through her mind. Like, maybe the boss was too hard to get along with, or maybe the work was just too hard. The thought that the place was haunted even crossed her mind. After all, Catty had told her that patients died there on a regular basis, sometimes two or three on the same day. Maureen decided she had to find out for herself just why the director had practically begged her to take the job.

 

From the outside, the York Nursing Home looked like an upscale motel. The sixty-bed facility was a warm shade of blue with a circular driveway, a neatly trimmed front lawn, palm trees with benches on either side of the driveway, and a wishing well in the center of the lawn. It was located near a strip mall that contained several fast-food restaurants, a nail shop, a dress shop for full-figured women, and a gas station. It was also just a few minutes away from downtown Miami. Some of the nursing home staff, as well as some of the people who worked in the strip mall businesses, often walked into Miami when they wanted to eat at the more upscale restaurants or shop at the trendy boutiques.

Maureen's heart skipped a beat when she saw
two
hearses parked in front of the building. She gulped and stopped in her tracks and was tempted to run back to her car as fast as she could. However, she had come too far to turn back now, so she continued walking until she made it to the front door. She was met by a birdlike white woman with red cheeks, dark circles around her eyes, and limp hair hanging to her shoulders like a gray spiderweb.

“Maureen?” the woman asked in a high-pitched voice. There was a hopeful look on her face.

“Yes, ma'am,” Maureen replied.

“Oh, I'm so glad you made it!” the woman gushed, looking at her watch. “Twenty minutes early too.” A name tag, hanging lopsided on the left breast pocket of her light blue scrubs, identified her as J
ANICE
L
ARSEN
, D
IRECTOR
.

“Hello, Mrs. Larsen,” Maureen said, offering her most sincere smile. “I'm happy to be here,” she added, and she meant it too. But she didn't feel that way for long.

After a ten-minute orientation, some paperwork, and discussing her benefits and salary, Maureen was put to work. She would be “trained” on the job, learn as you go, she realized. Well, if these people were so desperate that they were willing to hire her and put her to work right away, even though she had no experience or training in this area, Maureen wasn't going to argue with them.

The first thing the director did was introduce Maureen to the staff, and then she took her around to introduce her to the patients she would be assisting.

The very first patient, a hairy old beast with bulging eyes, spat on Maureen's foot when they entered the room he shared with another patient. “Now, Mr. Bailey, you behave yourself,” Mrs. Larsen scolded, giving the grumpy old man a slight tap on the top of his head. “He's kind of fussy this early in the morning, but by the time your day ends, he'll be as cuddly as a kitty cat,” she whispered to Maureen. “Be thankful that he can still feed himself, so you won't have to worry about that. He's got a real bad case of dementia. He thinks he's a baby again, so he likes to bite.”

Mr. Bailey's roommate had been in a coma for the past five years and had to be fed through a tube. He wasn't going to be much trouble. Half of the other patients couldn't even get out of bed, but they were still lucid enough to feed themselves.

“I hope you're not too squeamish,” Mrs. Larsen said to Maureen as they entered another room. Maureen was thrilled to see that the two patients in this room were both still asleep.

“I'm not squeamish at all.” Maureen had gutted fish, skinned squirrels, and even helped Mama Ruby slaughter a few hogs. She had never been squeamish . . . until she heard what Mrs. Larsen said next.

“Then it shouldn't bother you to change diapers.”

Diapers! “Um, I don't think that'll bother me.” Maureen had not changed a diaper since Loretta was a baby—and that had been unpleasant enough. To change a diaper on an adult had to be pretty gruesome.

“I have to let you know that some of these people can be downright hostile. Some even tend to get . . . uh . . . violent.” Mrs. Larsen let out a nervous laugh, but that didn't stop Maureen's thoughts from running wild.

“Just how violent?” she asked.

“Oh, you might get poked with a cane or have a walker thrown at you now and then. Or pinched, or bitten, or deliberately run over by a wheelchair. Nothing really serious, so don't worry about it. You are kind of petite and fragile-looking, though. Oh well, if something serious happens to you, we have three doctors and several nurses on the premises at all times.”

Maureen glanced toward a window that faced the parking lot. The hearses were still present. “Ma'am, I noticed the two hearses in the parkin' lot when I got here,” she mentioned, nodding toward the window. “They kinda scared me.”

“Oh, they kinda scare me too. Always did and always will,” Mrs. Larsen said with a dismissive wave. “You'll get used to seeing them, though. You'll see ambulances here all the time too. The paramedics spend so much time out here, some days they come before we even call them. After all, this is the end of the line for most of our residents. That's a crying shame because so few of them have families that still care about them. Once they tuck their loved ones in at a place like this, they think their job is done. Death visits this place more than relatives.” Mrs. Larsen gave Maureen a pitiful look and then touched her arm. “Most of these poor souls just go to sleep one night and never wake up.” Maureen's new boss took a deep breath and added with a quick smile, “I hope to go that way myself when the time comes.”

“That's how I want to go, too, I guess,” Maureen responded, hoping that she would be able to take care of herself to the very end so Loretta wouldn't dump her off at a nursing home. Like Mrs. Larsen, Maureen wanted to go to sleep one night and not wake up when her time came. That was the way Mama Ruby had passed over. Just thinking about the day Mama Ruby died made her sad. She blinked back a tear and gave Mrs. Larsen a big smile. “I hope to spend my last days in my own home,” she said, “but it's good to know that there are homes like this for the folks that need them.”

Mrs. Larsen gave Maureen a peculiar look. “You said you have a daughter and a husband?”

Maureen nodded and offered an even bigger smile. “We're all very close. If me or my husband ever get disabled and can't take care of ourselves, I am sure my daughter will make the right decision about our care. I'm so blessed that I can count on her for anything.”

When the tour resumed, Maureen witnessed several incidents of violence. One old man eased out of his bed as soon as they entered his room, grabbed his three-legged cane, and started swinging it at them. Two burly male orderlies rushed in and subdued him. In the next room, a large blind woman rose from her bed to hug Maureen and involuntarily vomited on her new shoes.

These unpleasant incidents didn't seem to faze Mrs. Larsen that much. However, each time, she rolled her eyes, mumbled something under her breath, gritted her teeth, and sighed with exasperation.

“The employee restroom is just across the hall. Go get your shoes cleaned off and we'll take a coffee break,” Mrs. Larsen told Maureen, clasping her hand like she was afraid she was going to bolt.