Woman of Substance (17 page)

She struck a pose with her fists extended toward him. “If Frank wasn’t dying, I would deck you here and now.”

He swallowed his laugh at her mittened fists. “Listen, I don’t know a lot about you.”

His boots squeaked on the cold, paved path. He stopped at the gate that led to the street and to Robbie’s house. He’d almost turned to go through it before he stopped himself. He wrapped his arm around her waist. “I know that you’re generous, kind, an only child, you attended high school in a town that had an ice cream parlor, you like to dance, shop, walk in the park, and you applied for a job.” He gulped a big mouthful of air.

“I’d say you know the important things,” she said.

“But I don’t know what you’re giving up to be with Frank.”

“Remember, it’s a job right now.”

“Are you only visiting Frank because it’s a job?” His heart imitated a solo bass drummer practicing on a hilltop.

She pulled her hat tighter onto her head. “You both seem to need me and I can be of some assistance. Frank’s a good man. He loved Mabel and they were together for a long time through many hardships. I especially like that she was a woman of size when he married her. It’s a hope I can share at my Women’s Club.” One minute she was expounding on life and the next her foot slipped. The flashlight flew into the air and she yelled, “Not again.” She landed with a thud.

His heart became a fist punching against his ribs. Fearing that she’d been hurt, Jake knelt and reached toward her.

She shrank away from him. “No, don’t touch me. Just let me catch my breath.”

He stood. “I’ll find the flashlight.” He stepped off the path into the snow for better traction.

Robbie saw the stars past the haloes of the city lights through the branches of the park trees. When Jake came back and shone the flashlight over her, she patted the snow. “Come on down.”

He stretched out beside her and turned his face to her. “Are you all right?”

“Everything moves. Aren’t the stars beautiful?”

She felt as if she was under a feather duvet, the suit provided warmth on a cold night but she heard Jake’s teeth chattering next to her ear. His butt must be ice cold by now.

“Are you getting even with me in some sadistic way? I’m freezing to death. Any idea when you’ll stop star gazing?” he asked.

“Actually, I was trying to think of a way to get back on my feet without looking like the proverbial beached whale.” She hated that her voice sounded small and embarrassed.

“We can do one of two things. We can wait until spring and hope for a flood, or I’ll help you. I may be wiry but I’m strong.”

“Don’t laugh at me.” She slapped the snow-cover ground with her hand, sending up a plum of white powder.

“Let me help you, before I freeze to death.”

“Okay. I’m ready.”

He stood off of the slippery path and planted his feet shoulder width apart, bent at his knees, and extended his hands to her. He provided momentum until she sat upright on the snow.

“On the count of three,” she said. Her breath hung in the air like cartoon bubble above her head.

When Jake stood he held tight and brought her to her feet. “You’re much lighter than you look.”

“Somehow that doesn’t feel like a compliment,” she said.

“I’m making an observation, not a judgment.” He stepped closer with the light beam pointed to the ground. His gloved finger reached for her cheek. She stepped back. She couldn’t let him get close enough to touch her face. She hadn’t taken as much care with her preparation as she should have.

“You’re a mysterious woman.”

She watched his eyes search her face. His lips seemed to be inching closer and then they skimmed her wool cap. Then he put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “In order for us to be true friends, I have to be able to give things to you, too.” When she started to speak, he raised his hand. “This isn’t about money. What can I offer you?”

She swallowed and leaned her head against his chest. “You already have. You’re being my friend.”

Tonight, Jake decided, he would act like any man and accept her assessment of their relationship and not a researcher and analyze it in true research form until it was magnified ten times or one hundred times. “Friends,” he agreed.

He felt her slipping away from him. It seemed as if her frame shrank and she stood out of his reach. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Slide away from me without me feeling that you’re ready to move. It’s the strangest phenomenon.”

“Perhaps I have a superpower I haven’t fully developed.” She shifted from foot to foot and rubbed her hands together. “It’s time I went home. I’m frozen.”

Jake didn’t want this time to end. It was as if he was cocooned in a bubble of warmth and when it burst he’d be back in the cold again facing the prospect of being alone.

“I’ll walk you to your car.” Even though it was impossible to feel her warmth through her mitten and his glove, he knew it was there. They held hands through the park and across the street.

He opened the car door for her. She settled herself into the driver’s seat and started the ignition. Biting the top of her mitten she freed her hand and ran her finger across the grooves from his nose to the side of his lips, which seemed to grow deeper each day. “Take care, friend.”

She watched his eyes as she placed her fingers against her lips and then touched them to his lips. He closed his eyes for a second, before he stepped away from the car.

“See you soon.” He closed the door and moved away and she shifted into drive. She gave the horn a small tap and drove down the street.

After Robbie slid the garage door into place, she stood alone in the darkness. She took a deep breath. She and Jake were friends. As a researcher, that was all she could hope. Frank had said no one could have too many friends. Then why did it feel like she’d won the consolation prize?

Chapter 13

On Friday at her weekly meeting with her research group of women, Robbie looked around the church meeting room as she outlined her plans. “My defense will take place on Tuesday. From now on, I’m only going to go out dressed as in the body suit when I visit Frank.”

“It’s almost over,” Sharon said. “I didn’t think you could do it, but you have and I’m proud of you.”

Robbie nodded. “Thank you, Sharon. If I’m not mistaken, you look like the proverbial cat that licked the cream.”

“You caught me. I thought I’d wait until after Tuesday to tell you but I lost another twenty five pounds and the fitness club has offered me a management position.” Sharon put her hand up for high fives.

“That’s fabulous.” Robbie slapped Sharon’s palm and Mavis and Margaret called group hug. They all danced around.

“I thought you were shrinking but you must have a closet full of jean capris and white T-shirts,” Margaret said.

“I’ve tried so often to get into shape. I just didn’t find the right venue for me. Now I have. And to answer your question, Margaret, yes, I do. But I have donated the sizes I won’t return to again.”

“Guess we won’t be spending as much time here anymore,” Robbie said, feeling a sense of loss. “Hope we stay in touch.”

“You can join the fitness club, Robbie. Women of all ages, shapes, and sizes are there.”

“Maybe I will.”

“What time are you on duty, Sharon?” Margaret asked tapping her manicured fingers on the tabletop. “I might come when you’re there. You’d show me what to do.” Margaret’s eyes were bright with tears. “Russ has been on my case about working out and staying strong for our retirement. He’s never said anything about me losing weight. He just wants me to be healthy.”

“I’ll email you my schedule.” Sharon wound her arm through Margaret’s arm. “I’ll help you.”

“You’re not getting me to come to one of those places after I’ve been on my feet since four in the morning,” Mavis said, waving her arms for emphasis.

“Of course not, but if we’re all there you might miss us,” Margaret said.

“Just call me for coffee afterwards,” Mavis said. “Let’s get back to business here.” Mavis folded her arms across her chest. “You’re probably right, Robbie. Sometimes it is best to quit while you’re ahead.”

Margaret leaned closer to Robbie. “And you seriously believe that neither Frank nor Jake know who you are?”

“I have to, based on what they tell me. Right after my defense, I’ll tell Frank and Jake and then the Robin they know will disappear.” Robbie leaned back into her chair.

“Frank and Jake are focused on important life issues right now,” Margaret said. “This shows me that people may see me but don’t and that’s okay because it isn’t all about me. Everyone has stuff in their lives that we know nothing about. Thanks for the lesson.”

Sharon and Mavis nodded in agreement.

“You’re right and that goes for me, too,” Robbie agreed.

Robbie shifted in her seat and crossed and uncrossed her legs.

“Do you have to go to the ladies’?” Sharon asked with a smirk.

“No. It’s just that I haven’t worked out the details on how to break the news to Frank and Jake that I’m a fraud.”

Margaret stood up and stared down at Robbie. “Wait a minute. You are not a fraud. The outside that you showed them is different, but on the inside you’re the same woman. That kind of thinking gets us all into trouble.”

“Thank you, Margaret. My inside has learned a great deal from this experience.”

“Don’t think you are the only one. We’ve all learned a few things. You do not get to have all the credit,” Sharon said. “Now, we need directions to your thesis defense. We can still come, right? You mentioned it in the beginning of all of this.”

“Yes, you can come, Tuesday afternoon. I’ll email you directions and time.” Robbie’s watched beeped. “That’s it for this meeting. Thank you all so much.”

Margaret, Mavis, and Sharon called “Group hug.”

“You got it. Now I need to go home and practice, practice, practice.”

On Monday in the late afternoon, Jake waited for Robin to arrive. He’d missed her for the last couple of days. Her routine seemed to vary around his schedule.

“Go,” Frank said.

Jake wore a sweatshirt and running pants so that he’d be comfortable while he kept his vigil in the recliner.

“She’ll come.” Frank was confident.

Jake turned and felt a sense of relief when Robin appeared in the doorway looking flushed and bright-eyed. He reached for her hand. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Oh.” She looked at him through her ever-present gemstone-framed glasses with those brown eyes.

She swallowed awkwardly. “I’m sorry, did I promise to be here at a specific time? I didn’t see your car.”

“No, you didn’t promise. We hoped. I just don’t want him to be alone today,” Jake whispered.

She straightened her shoulders. “I’m here now.” She walked over to the bedside. “Hi, Frank.”

“I told you.” Frank’s breathing was shallow. He pointed toward Jake. “He needs some fresh air.”

“The nurse just gave him his medication so he’ll be asleep soon. I’ll take a quick run in the park and be back before he wakes up.” Jake didn’t want to leave.

Robin gazed up at him and nodded her understanding.

“Take the time you need,” she said. “I’m here for Frank, and for you.”

Jake slumped against the wall, feeling a burden lift from his shoulders. He had a friend sharing this time with them. They’d been strangers just weeks ago. He wasn’t alone.

Robin bit her lower lip before she said, “Go. We’ll be fine.”

Jake stepped toward her and raised her hand to his lips. He liked her. She reminded him in so many ways of his grandmother. Her outer size reflected her inner strength and generosity.

He snagged his jacket from the hook, looked back once to see that Robin had seated herself next to the bed and held Frank’s hand. “I’m here, Frank.”

After the door closed, Frank turned toward her.

Robbie leaned closer to his lips. “Hang in there, Robbie. He’ll come around. He’s smart.”

“Pardon?” she asked, not wanting to believe she’d heard him correctly.

Frank’s eyelids flickered, then closed.

Robbie. He called her Robbie. He knew.

Surprise and hope clogged her throat and she felt a smile form even during this sad time when Frank was close to leaving. She blinked away the tears pooling and sliding down her face. He always told her that he was dying, not dead. She remembered the time she sat beside him in the park without her disguise and had come up with a lame excuse about her friend telling her about him.

He had told her to visit with him as Robbie as well. She wondered how many other times small details had slipped while they talked. She released the bed rail and maneuvered her body up onto the bed with Frank. She told him about her research while he slept.

When Jake reached halfway point around the lake in a slow jog through the cold, crisp air, he thought of Frank’s feet. They looked like marble. He turned back and jogged faster. He slammed through the care home doors and skidded down the hall. Outside Frank’s door, he hauled in a deep breath of antiseptic air into his lungs. No intercoms blared. The nurses’ deliberate long, silent strides, provided a type of serenity in the midst of his crisis.

He listened to Robin’s calming voice and when his breathing settled, he swung the door open to find Robin lying on the bed beside Frank holding his hand against her cheek.

Jake laced his fingers with hers while she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and gained her balance. He didn’t look into her eyes or he’d beg her to stay by his side. He didn’t know what to say so he said, “Thank you. We’ll be fine now.”

“I know,” she said.

He leaned his head against her head. She stood still. They breathed the same air, their hands gripped tightly to each other. Her energy seemed to flow into him.

When she stepped away, he watched her pull a hat over her curls and stuff her arms into her coat sleeves.

“I’ll drop in tomorrow, if that’s okay.” She was uncertain again.

“Of course.” He didn’t have the heart to tell her that they probably wouldn’t be here.

Robbie swallowed and snuffled until the automatic doors slid closed behind her, then fumbled in her pockets for a tissue and covered her face. Sobs rumbled out of her chest. Her nose dripped; her eyes ran. When her eyes cleared, she saw a parking patrol officer writing her a ticket.

“Wait a minute,” she called. “I’m right here.” She hurried across the road.

“Too late, lady. If you’d been here two minutes ago, before I put pen to paper, I could have given you a warning.”

“I wasn’t in there that long. Besides, what are you doing ticketing cars outside a seniors’ home? Do you know what goes on in there?” Her voice got louder and louder. “People die, you know.” She fought the urge to run at him and slam him against her car.

“Not my problem. I’m just doing my job. You put money in the meter, you come out in time, you don’t see me.” He handed her the ticket.

She stuffed the insult into her pocket. “Sorry. I was sure I put enough money in the meter.”

“Just don’t forget to pay it. The fine isn’t that much if you get to it right away.” He shrugged. “If I could, I’d cancel it but I have rules to follow.”

“Don’t we all.” She opened the door and pressed her body into the seat. She started the car and leaned her forehead against the cold window. The poor parking guy didn’t deserve her anger but it felt good to yell at someone.

She needed to be well rested tonight. Tomorrow was her big day. By four o’clock, she would know if it had all been worth it. She’d rehearsed her opening remarks while Frank slept. Tomorrow evening, she’d come back and tell him all about it again when he was awake and then she’d ask his advice about how to tell Jake.

Jake’s evening passed with a curious feeling of calm resignation. In a few days, he would prepare a funeral. His grandfather’s obituary would be published in the local paper. He’d known that these things would happen almost from the moment he arrived in Regina, but he had not thought about them directly. He’d been preoccupied with his temporary position at the university, his research, the missing funds, his apartment search, reacquainting with old friends, and learning to be in the moment when he was with Frank. The celebration of Frank’s life—the culmination of a well-lived life—had been in the future.

It was no longer in the future. It was now. As it did every evening at this time, the intercom announced the end of visiting hours. Family and friends of the other residents gathered in the hallways prepared to resume their lives in their homes away from their loved ones, but not Jake. The staff had made it clear that he could stay with Frank. Soon his last night with the most important man in his life would begin.

All through the night, the semi-darkness was broken when Nurse Sheila turned Granddad from side to back to side, administered his pain medication, and checked his vital signs. Jake lowered the side rail and cradled Frank’s body close to his chest. “Granddad, I’m sorry I should’ve come home sooner.” Jake felt a slight change in Frank’s posture. The knot in Jake’s chest unraveled and he breathed easier. Somewhere in the night Frank’s breaths were shallow and rattled with congestion.

Near morning, his breathing slowed and deepened. Jake held Granddad’s hand when he took his last breath at four a.m. Jake stared at Granddad’s body. Frank had been exactly that. A
grand
dad to Jake, not an old man who was separated by a generation but the best dad a boy and man could have. What the hell was he going to do without him?

Nurse Sheila put her arms around Jake’s shoulders, handed him a tissue to blow his nose and then led him from the room. In a daze, he signed the papers to release the body to the funeral home. It didn’t look like a new day but the clock said it was. There were still hours before sunrise on the first day when he was alone in this world.

Jake parked close to the hotel’s main entrance. He was numb when the water from the shower rushed over his head; he was numb when he crawled under the blankets.

He slept and when the alarm woke him and sunlight trickled through the seams in the curtains, he knew something was different on this Tuesday in December. He was free of the deathwatch. He could follow Frank’s wishes for a memorial service, but he’d be driving around the city, running in the park instead of spending time at the Manor with Frank. His eyes blurred. He couldn’t get his butt moving, let alone run. He shook his head. Running. Robbie. Robin. He reached for the phone book in the bedside table drawer, but which one? His fingers and thumbs refused to work together fast enough to page through the phone book. How could he not know her number? Wait a minute. He was sure that Robin had given him a cell phone number when she first took on the job of visiting Frank. Or had Robbie given him the number? He tossed the blankets aside and padded barefoot to the desk drawer where he rummaged through his scraps of paper put for safekeeping.

He needed to tell her about Frank’s death. He didn’t want her going to visit and . . . and see the room empty.

He sat in the chair and thought about what to say. Perhaps he could meet her in the park and tell her in person. He dialed the number and waited until an automated system repeated back the number he’d dialed and asked him to leave a message. He hung up the phone. What was wrong with him? What would he have said anyway? He couldn’t have told a voice recording that his grandfather had died early this morning. Why didn’t he know where she lived? As the lump formed in his throat, he was glad he didn’t have to say out loud that Frank Proctor was dead. That he’d died peacefully this December, Tuesday morning, days before Christmas and before his grandson could present him with a great-grandchild. His grandfather was gone. He hadn’t learned the Canadian etiquette for survivors, but he knew it wasn’t like some of the cultures where they wailed and beat their chests. No, he suspected that he had to be quiet in his grief.