The Orphan (13 page)

By Saturday, life around the Lynwood residence seemed to have stabilized. Darren hadn’t mentioned any additional nightmares, and he’d promised Beth he would tell her if the fire dream visited him again. Raya had not received any new cryptic texts. The three of them – four, counting Chad, who had been spending more and more time around the house with Raya – seemed to be relaxing into summer. Maybe it was Chad’s presence, Beth thought. Maybe he’s the fourth leg under our family table, the lost older brother Raya never had and the son Darren wished he had all along.

The four of them took a late lunch at the West End Tavern downtown, and somehow even their seating arrangement resembled a family – the two teens on opposite sides of the table, Raya with Beth, Chad on Darren’s side. Darren kept making immature jokes and murmuring things to Chad, the two of them cracking up every few minutes. Have another chicken wing, dude! Thanks, Darren! My God, Beth thought, if this keeps up they’ll be riding bikes together by the end of the week.

Raya had noticed it too. ‘Look at you two over there. What do you think, Mom? Is it a man crush?’

Chad laughed nervously.

Darren said, ‘We’re just making sure we get the best view.’

‘The Flatirons are behind you,’ Beth said.

‘The prettiest part of this town has nothing on our girls. Right, Chad?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘You’re my little chicken wing,’ her husband said, winking.

Beth and Raya collectively rolled their eyes and pretended to be sick, though she knew Raya appreciated her father’s renewed effort to bond with her boyfriend. Still, Beth couldn’t help wondering how far this could go before someone wound up disappointed, or embarrassed.

By the time the burgers arrived, Darren was on his second beer, one arm thrown around Chad’s seat back, acting as if they owned the place.

‘You know, if you two kids are nice to me and promise not to stay out past nine o’clock,’ Darren said, peering intently at Raya. ‘I might let Chad here take you out for a drive in the Firebird. But if you get caught speeding, I’ll tell the cops you stole my car.’

‘Dad! I haven’t even gotten to drive the Firebird yet. How dare you.’

Chad’s cheeks were turning red, but he was grinning.

‘That’s because you don’t have a license yet, sweetheart, and Chad does.’

‘I’ll let you drive it when you’re seventeen,’ Chad said.

Raya gasped at the both of them.

Beth said, ‘See what you’ve started?’

Darren and Chad laughed like a couple of howler monkeys, and Beth looked down into her lap, lost in thought for a moment, and when she looked up again, Darren was watching her with concern. She put on a smile.

‘So, what do you kids want to do this afternoon?’ she said. ‘We could walk down the mall, look for some sandals, grab a coffee and some ice cream?’

Raya looked to her father, then back to Beth. ‘I think we should visit Gremme. That would be nice, right?’

‘Really?’ Beth said, surprised and then feeling guilty she hadn’t been the one to mention Gremme.

‘It’s been a while,’ Raya said. ‘Like, months.’

Darren frowned. ‘Not months. Your mother and I saw her a few weeks ago.’

‘A month anyway,’ Beth corrected. ‘I think that’s a really sweet idea.’

‘Don’t you want to, Dad?’

‘Of course. That just wasn’t what I expected to hear on your first weekend of the summer. You kids are supposed to be out partying and behaving irresponsibly, not visiting your grandma. What made you think of Gremme?’

Raya shrugged. ‘Chad’s been wanting to meet her and, I don’t know, I was just thinking about her this morning for some reason. I think she wants us to come visit, that’s all.’

Beth looked to Darren, wondering if he was reading anything odd into this declaration, but he was only nodding. ‘Okay. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.’

Hunches, Beth thought as they paid the tab. Either something’s wrong with Gremme and Raya’s having another one of her hunches, or we somehow managed to raise a really good kid.

Grandma Eloise Lynwood – Gremme, as Raya had called her throughout infancy – lived in the Atrium, an assisted living facility on the northeast corner of Boulder, near the Diagonal Highway. True to its name, the condominium-style building featured an impressive glass roof and six floors of interior walkways encircling a respectably large and lovingly cared for garden-courtyard at its center, with real trees and a variety of flowers and the accompanying humid vegetation and fertilizer aromas of a greenhouse.

Residents of the Atrium enjoyed various levels of assistance. A few were hardly more than paying tenants, taking advantage of the upscale standards and guest services but otherwise enjoying nearly total independent lifestyle like anyone else living in an apartment building or hotel, one that just so happened to have a medical staff on hand. Others were plugged into plans that included meal service, weekly or daily health check-ups and in-home visits from the nursing staff, but not much more. While still another category of residents, the ones who had lost all ability to care for themselves, were fed, bathed, and tended to in all the ways a full-time care facility was required to do so.

Darren’s mother had been in the earliest stages of Alzheimer’s Disease when they began planning the move back to Boulder, and there had been some discussion about whether to move Eloise out west along with them. Not because they didn’t want to keep her close, but because the woman was still of sound mind and did not wish to leave Mequon, the small city in the Milwaukee metro area she had called home for more than forty years. She had been living a vigorous life in a quality retirement community there, with plenty of mobility and a private nurse who spent three days a week in her unit. But that was last spring.

By the time Beth and Darren’s moving plans turned into moving boxes and real estate contracts, the erosion of Eloise’s faculties had accelerated. She had begun leaving the unit without notifying anyone, taking walks at odd hours, getting lost. Physically she had been strong, but the other common symptoms were worsening monthly. Friendships she had enjoyed with other residents in Mequon suffered or unraveled. Darren had been their only child, and now he and Beth and Raya were all Gremme had.

Darren had been torn about what to do. On the one hand, he didn’t want to disturb her anymore by moving her from a familiar environment. On the other, it was obvious that soon enough Gremme would not know the difference between her place in Wisconsin and a nice room in Colorado with all the same belongings. Money for her care was not an issue, and being out of the corporate world had freed up plenty of time for Darren to fly to and from Milwaukee to visit her. But Colorado enjoyed a milder climate, and ultimately Darren felt that if he did not move her to Boulder, he would regret having missed a few more days with her, even if she no longer remembered him on those days.

The move had gone better than expected and the change of environment actually seemed to rouse Gremme’s once-sharp wit for a winter renaissance of good spirits and general awareness, but spring had seen her regressing. They used to say Gremme had good days and bad, but in the past few months most of her days fell into the categories of not-terrible and heart-breaking. Vulgarity and profanity had seeped into her conversations, ugly racial slurs of the sort Eloise had never expressed and had not seemed capable of before the disease struck.

The last time Beth and Darren had visited her, she had recognized them both only briefly before referring to Beth as Raya a number of times and then lost track of them altogether, until she was unable to respond to any visitors. As recently as winter she had still been referring to Darren as ‘my son’ or ‘my boy’, but lately the best she could do was, ‘him’ or ‘you know, that one’.

The four of them checked in at the reception area, then took the elevator to the third floor. Gremme had a corner unit at the end of the hall, with just under a thousand square feet of living space: one bedroom, living room, kitchenette and a full bath, plus a small nook with a desk and a view of the Flatirons. From the outside it looked like a Hilton hotel. Inside, a wealthy old woman’s small but upscale apartment.

Gremme’s door was open a few inches and Beth heard voices, which meant a staff visit or cleaning services were present, but they knocked politely anyway.

‘Come in,’ a young woman said.

Darren pushed the door open and they all shuffled into the entryway beside the kitchenette to watch a young Latino attendant in pale pink scrubs and a black cardigan sweater finish making Gremme’s bed with fresh sheets and duvet cover. Beth recognized the employee but did not remember her name.

‘Hello, how’s everyone doing?’ the attendant said, trying to cue Eloise.

Gremme was sitting upright in her reclining armchair, dressed in gray slacks, a loose burgundy blouse and her bright red flats. She was watching a talk show on the small TV set wall-mounted above her dresser. Her hair had been cut recently, so short it did not cover her ears, and Beth wished they had let it go. Gremme’s hair seemed to have stopped growing altogether and she found herself wondering what was the point. She didn’t think Gremme would have asked for this near-crew cut, but it was possible.

‘Hi, how are you?’ Beth said.

‘Just finishing up in here,’ the woman said. Then to Gremme, ‘Eloise, you have some company. Your family is here.’

‘Oh really?’ Gremme said, but she did not turn to see them.

Darren went ahead first and Beth stepped aside to allow Raya and Chad to follow before she brought up the rear. They circled the Lynwood matriarch, delivering hugs and hellos, until Raya plopped down on the couch to Gremme’s right. Chad sat with her, a warm smile on his face as he studied the room, the family photos on the walls, the fresh flowers on the breakfast bar. Darren stood to his mother’s left, hands in his pockets, trying to look more comfortable, Beth knew, than he felt.

‘Hi, Gremme!’ Raya belted once more. ‘How are you today?’

‘There you are,’ Gremme said, beaming at the two kids. ‘Isn’t she beautiful?’

‘Yes,’ Chad said. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Lynwood.’

‘It rained last night,’ Gremme said, turning her attention back to the TV. ‘Did you see it? They said it was gonna happen.’

‘Yes,’ Raya answered. ‘I like your hair. Did you get your hair styled recently?’

Gremme looked over to Darren with mild alarm. Sized him up from feet to head and back again. Beth watched her closely to see if she would recognize her son. ‘Do you want to sit down?’ Gremme asked him. ‘All this standing is making me tired.’

‘I’m good, Mom,’ Darren said, then crouched beside her chair and held her arm, patting her hand. ‘How are things? You look good. You feelin’ good?’

‘Have you seen this show?’ she said, gesturing at the TV. They all turned to look. It was a political round table of some sort. ‘This is really something. These people…’

‘What’s new in here?’ Darren said. ‘Any new hot dates we should know about?’

‘Darren,’ Beth said.

‘Oh? What did he do this time?’ Gremme said, arching from the chair to find Beth. ‘Come in here, you.’

Beth moved in front of Darren. ‘Hi, Eloise. You look well. Have you eaten today? Can we bring you anything?’

Gremme’s eyes widened. ‘I’m stuffed! They’re always making you eat. I wish they’d leave me alone.’

To die
, Beth couldn’t help thinking. Sometimes you heard the residents saying that.
Please just let me die!

Raya spent a few minutes telling her about school, asking Gremme if she was ready for summer. Gremme said she didn’t trust the lake, which Beth interpreted as memories of Lake Michigan.

‘Who’s that one?’ Gremme said, pointing at Chad.

‘This is my friend Chad,’ Raya said. ‘Chad, this is Grandma Lynwood.’

‘Nice to meet you, ma’am,’ Chad said for the second time.

‘Where’s the other one?’ Gremme asked Raya.

‘Which other one?’ Raya said, smiling.

‘Your little friend.’

Raya looked at Chad, her parents, then shrugged. ‘Just Chad.’

‘You
know
,’ Gremme said, impatiently waving her hand in a wobbly circle. ‘The one who used to follow you around all the time.’

‘Chad, I think your girl’s got another boyfriend,’ Darren said, winking at the kids as he stood. Beth heard his knees pop.

Gremme turned in her chair and looked at Darren. ‘You know who I mean. The little one. Your friend.’

Darren blinked down at his mother. ‘I don’t know who you mean, Mom. My friend or Raya’s friend?’

‘Raya?’

Darren pointed. ‘That’s Raya, your granddaughter, and her boyfriend Chad.’

Gremme waved her hand again, her mouth puckering, the thin remains of her eyebrows inching together like silkworms.

‘Not him, the other one, the little one followed you.’

‘Followed me?’ Darren said.

‘Yes, that one. Adam.’

‘Adam?’ Raya said, looking to her parents.

‘Who’s Adam?’ Beth said.

Gremme pointed to Darren and laughed bitterly. A small string of saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth to her chin. ‘He knows. He knows.’

‘I don’t know who she means,’ Darren said. ‘Who’s Adam, Mom?’

Gremme took hold of the TV’s remote control and smashed it against the pad of her armchair several times. ‘Adam. Adam. Adam!’

‘Okay,’ Darren said. ‘That’s all right. Easy. What about him?’

‘He was just here, didn’t you see him? The little boy?’ Gremme looked at Raya as she said this, but her tone, Beth thought, was meant for Darren. As if she were scolding her son some twenty years ago. ‘He follows you everywhere and look what you did to him. Cruel. Very cruel.’

Beth saw Raya’s eyes widening and she knew what her daughter was thinking.
Stop it
, Beth wanted to say,
stop encouraging her right now
. But she didn’t know who she wanted to say it to, Gremme or Raya.

Raya was staring at Gremme, taking her by the hand. ‘You know him, Gremme? The boy who came to visit you?’

‘Every day,’ Gremme said, leaning forward and speaking gravely to Raya. ‘For years. He was always a very dedicated boy, you know. Very dedicated.’