Page 6 of Changing Lanes

Standing, he winks and reaches for my arm in a gentlemanly gesture but I grab my radio, pretending to hear something. I shake my head at myself and we begin walking side-by-side toward his best kept secret, leaving this episode behind.

* * *

“The lobby? Dennis, you sure know how to treat a girl,” I say, smiling.

He blushes, fixing two mugs of hot water before I take over with the tea. Sleepy chamomile for him and two bags of tangy chai for me. I need all the help I can get and I don’t drink coffee so doubling up will have to do.

After enjoying our drinks together, we sit for a while, silently gazing out the window at the moonlit back courtyard. He’s much calmer and eventually lets me know he’s ready for bed.

I escort Dennis to his room then make my rounds, leaving room fourteen for last.

Entering the room, I take it all in, not letting my bias sway me.

Sunbrook’s a nice place with a well-stocked library, arts and crafts room, meticulously maintained grounds, and even weekly events like Bingo and movie nights. Although it’s an assisted living facility, Sunbrook’s focus is on people with Alzheimer’s and dementia needing more outside assistance. And it actually smells good, which is not always the case.

Each room has its own bed and nightstand, a TV on the wall, a sitting chair with a small end table along with a private connected bathroom. They’re meant to be apartment-like homes but with safety features aplenty. It really is like a little community.

I smooth my hand over the freshly-made bed. Cotton, not that synthetic crap most facilities provide. She’ll like it. Or she would’ve before.

Before. A word not readily recognized within these walls but one I can’t seem to purge from my vocabulary.

A tear forms in my eye and I blink it back before it can fall. Before.

I’m straightening the stack of magazines—not stolen—on the end table when an alarm sounds down the hall.

Cynthia’s voice crackles over the radio but I’m already sprinting out the door.

Tonight’s going to be a long one.

CHAPTER 3

Paige

I keep my steps slow and measured even though all I want to do is run. All day I’ve been on edge waiting for my shift. For this moment. Thankfully, both roommates were already off to their own jobs by the time I rolled in dead on my feet this morning. Last night being a full moon lived up to the hype. Every few minutes, it seemed, something went wrong, sending me and Cynthia into a frenzy of activity usually reserved for day shift.

I was originally hired on for nights only but over the past two years of working here, I’ve had to fill in several times already for nurses on days. Usually at the last minute for the moms with young kids that get sick. While it might be hard coming off a twelve-hour rotation when the sun’s just coming up, there’s no comparison to the exhaustion day nurses feel after a rowdy shift. After my last time covering someone’s shift, I saw some ways the night nurses could help out more so I suggested them to my boss, Rosie, and we’ve slowly been implementing them. Things like putting out snacks and changing bedding for the residents who are already awake before we leave in the mornings. So far everything’s gone over well.

Except with Vernon, that is.

He comes in every morning to go over the daily medications but more importantly, he’s a huge pain in my ass. I swear he goes out of his way to be a prick. He typically saves his snide remarks for me, which I try to ignore, but I’ve seen him be gruff with a few residents before and that’s just unacceptable. He’s got a major superiority complex going, I guess because his position allows him to stay relatively hands off with residents, mainly dispensing medication throughout the day, and he gets paid better than most of the other nurses on staff. Living alone with only two cats, he has nobody else in his life to take care of, so he spoils himself regularly, making it clear to the rest of us where he stands—well above our peasant asses.

Realizing I’m clenching my fists, I shake out my arms, not wanting to walk in a bundle of nerves. At least not visibly.

After a quick knock on room fourteen’s closed door, I announce myself then twist the doorknob, letting shaky legs carry me inside.

“Hello, Ms. Christensen. I’m Paige and I’m one of the regular night nurses here. I thought I’d check to see how you’re settling in on your first day.”

My stretched out smile slips as I get a good look at her.

I check her chart, immediately seeing she missed dinner. There’s no reason listed so I make a mental note to look into it later. Asking her likely won’t get me anywhere so I try a different approach, offering, “Would you like something to eat? Maybe some yogurt and granola?”

Favoritism be damned. Today of all days she needs to eat. Moving can be particularly stressful on people with Alzheimer’s. Everybody knows that. How did they let this happen on such a tough day?

I walk around to face her as she gazes out the window and study her sitting in what looks like deep contemplation. She has yet to answer me, let alone acknowledge that I’m even here. The parking lot isn’t that interesting. Something’s bothering her.

My eyes flit around the room, checking for something, anything, to reveal what has her nearly catatonic. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, I glance down and that’s when I see it. The picture. Not just any picture though.

My breath catches and I lower myself to her level. My eyes jump between hers, equally hoping she’ll remember and that she won’t. Some memories are better forgotten given the chance.