1105 Yakima Street (19 page)

“O
livia, I can’t tell you how excited I am to be in my own home,” Charlotte said as Ben unlocked the front door of 15 Eagle Crest Avenue. The kitchen had been completely remodeled.

Olivia exchanged a look with her brother. She had reservations about her mother and Ben returning here, but when she’d broached the subject of moving into assisted living, Charlotte had instantly rejected the idea. Ben hadn’t been keen on it, either, automatically dismissing it as “too expensive.”

So far, none of the places she and Will had checked out had any apartments available, but they’d put their name on a couple of waiting lists. Maybe, when something appropriate came up, Charlotte and Ben would be ready to consider it. Like it or not, eventually they’d have to leave this house. Probably before another year was up.

“I want to see my new kitchen,” Charlotte said, walking into the house and heading straight to the remodeled room. “Oh, my.” She brought her hands to her cheeks. “Everything is so…new.”

“We decided to replace the cupboards,” Olivia reminded her, coming to stand beside her mother.

“We did?” Charlotte looked to Ben for confirmation.

“We picked out the white oak together,” Ben said.

“Of course. I remember now.” Charlotte pulled open a couple of drawers, which then slowly glided shut. This was a new feature; unless the drawer was pulled out completely, it would automatically return to the closed position once it was released.

“Everything’s back exactly the way you left it,” Olivia reassured her. She’d taken great pains to make sure of that. She’d replaced the ruined pots and pans with new ones that were as similar as possible. Charlotte frowned as if she didn’t believe that. “Is everything all right, Mom?” Olivia asked.

“It just looks so different… .”

“There’s a new stove, too,” Will said, opening the oven door to display the large baking area.

Slowly, deliberately, Charlotte examined the knobs and studied the burners. “It looks complicated.”

“I’ll read over the instruction manual and we’ll learn about it together,” Ben said.

“That would help.” Every word and movement revealed her hesitation. “I’m afraid I’m so accustomed to my old stove and this one…well, it looks far too modern for me.”

“It’ll be fine,” Ben told her. He placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Is there anything else I should know about?” Charlotte asked Olivia.

“You have a new refrigerator,” Will said, and gestured proudly toward it.

“But why? The old one was working fine and it wasn’t damaged in the fire, was it?”

Will answered. “We figured you’d want a new one,
since all the other appliances are new,” he said. “It’s an early Christmas gift. I thought you’d be pleased.”

“I am, I am,” Charlotte was quick to tell him. “I’m just used to seeing the old one here. What did you do with it?”

“It’s on the back porch, Mom,” Olivia said. “For extra things.” Seeing her mother’s puzzled expression, Olivia added, “Cold sodas and beer, stuff like that.”

“Oh.”

“We can take the new fridge back if you don’t like it,” Will offered.

“No, it was so thoughtful of you… . Of course we’ll keep your gift, Will. I wouldn’t dream of sending it back.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mom?” Olivia asked. She and Jack would be meeting Grace and Cliff for dinner, but that wasn’t for hours yet.

“No, dear, everything is fine. It’s so good to be home again.” She rubbed her palms together as her eyes darted about the kitchen. Charlotte had visited the house frequently since the fire, but this was the first time she’d seen everything in place and complete. She walked over to the apple-shaped cookie jar and rested her hand on it. That, at least, was familiar. It’d been around for as long as Olivia could remember. Countless times through the years that jar had held her mother’s home-baked cookies. Luckily it had survived the fire.

On her way out, Olivia hugged her mother and Ben, and so did Will. Brother and sister left together.

As soon as the front door closed, Will asked, “So what do you think?”

They’d gone over their plan of action repeatedly. They’d let Ben and Charlotte move back into the house for a while and then bring up the idea of assisted living again. It seemed only fair, despite their fears, to give
their mother and Ben an opportunity to adjust to their new surroundings, see how things worked out. Olivia hoped that once they were ready to move, there’d be an opening at one of the better facilities.

“This is exactly what I was afraid would happen,” Olivia said. They reached their cars, which were parked at the curb.

“What’s that?”

“Mom. The new kitchen’s overwhelmed her.”

“Are you afraid she’ll leave a burner on again?”

“No, actually, I don’t think Mom will turn on any of the burners unless it’s absolutely necessary. She won’t want to cook because she’s unfamiliar with the stove.”

“Mom not cook?”

“I know. That was one of her main objections to moving into assisted living. She still enjoys working in the kitchen.” She’d rejected the idea out of hand and
then
listed a number of excuses, that being the first.

“But she can still cook,” Will said, showing his frustration. “There’s a huge kitchen at Stanford Suites for anyone who wants to bake or prepare a meal.”

Olivia nodded. “I know.” But the person they needed to convince was their mother.

“It’s a shared kitchen,” she pointed out. “Mom’s used to her own pots and pans and, well, her own kitchen.”

“That kitchen is gone,” Will said.

He was right. The fire had destroyed more than a few cupboards, the walls and flooring. What had once been the heart of their childhood home had become a pile of ashes. In its stead was a sterile room that lacked the familiarity, the memories, of the past sixty years. In many respects Olivia felt the same disappointment her mother did. She wanted everything to go back to the way it was, although that was obviously impossible.

“What do you suggest we do now?” Will asked.

“I…I don’t know.” Olivia didn’t expect it would be easy for Charlotte to make the transition, leaving the only home she’d known all her adult life. “Do you have any suggestions?”

Will shook his head. He shoved his hands in his pants pockets and shrugged. “This is hard.”

“You’re telling me?”

“I hoped Ben would see the wisdom of moving and smooth the way.”

“It’s as unsettling for him as it is for Mom,” Olivia commented.

“After all the moves he’s made in his navy career, one would think it’d be old hat.”

“One would think,” Olivia murmured. “The thing is, I don’t want Mom to feel we’re kicking her out of her own home. We can’t force her to leave, nor should we. She has to accept this and she hasn’t. Not yet.”

“Part of the problem,” Will said, “is that she’s afraid of what’ll happen to the house if she isn’t there.”

It was a point worth considering. “She loves this house.”

“The first question she asked was if we’d sell it,” Will reminded her, frowning. “Eventually we’d have to do that, and I get the feeling that upsets her more than the need to move.”

Olivia sighed. “We wouldn’t have any option. Renting it out could be a nightmare,” she said half to herself, remembering the troubles Grace had encountered when she rented out her house on Rosewood Lane. Olivia hated the thought of anyone vandalizing her family home, which was exactly what had happened to Grace’s house. No, renting wasn’t an option she wanted to consider.

“Ben might be more amenable to the idea than he’s led us to believe.”

“Really?” Olivia could only hope her brother was right. “Did he say anything to you?”

“Not directly, but I could tell how concerned he was when Mom first saw the new stove. He loves Mom, and realized right away how flustered and unsure she is with all these changes.”

Olivia nodded; she’d seen the same doubt and hesitation in her mother’s eyes and it had shaken her. Charlotte seemed almost childlike in her reaction to the changes taking place around her.

“If you have any ideas, let me know,” Will said. He reached for his car keys.

“Any plans tomorrow?” Olivia asked.

“Not really. What have you got in mind?”

“Jack wants to watch the Seahawks game on TV and you’d be welcome to join us.”

“One o’clock?” he asked.

“Perfect. See you then.”

Olivia hoped she and Will could continue their conversation the next day. Surely they could come up with a solution. The problem had seemed less immediate while Charlotte and Ben were living with them, since both Olivia and Jack were able to help. Despite various incidents with the laundry and so forth, Olivia had grown accustomed to having her mother close. It was comforting to find Charlotte waiting for her at the end of the day with a cup of tea and one of her many baked treats. Necessary as Olivia knew the transition to an assisted-living environment was, she found it painful. The loss of Charlotte and Ben’s independence, the loss of their familiar surroundings and, most of all, the loss of the person her mother had been… Olivia hated it. And yet
she had to be practical and protect their safety and well-being above all else.

A moment after Olivia got home, Jack pulled into the driveway behind her. He’d been to an AA meeting and, as was his habit afterward, had gone for coffee with his friend and sponsor, Bob Beldon.

“How was the meeting?” she asked, walking back to join him.

“Good.” Jack wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her. “How’d everything go with your mother and Ben?”

She blinked back tears, and Jack leaned forward to get a better look at her. “Liv?”

“Not good…”

“Come inside and tell me about it.”

The early evening was dreary and overcast, and it reflected how Olivia felt. With his arm around her waist, Jack led her into the house through the back door.

While he removed his coat, Olivia put on the kettle for tea. This was something her mother had done all her life. Whenever it was time to have a serious discussion, Charlotte would reach for the teakettle and her favorite ceramic teapot with the butterflies painted on it.

Olivia remembered the day she’d come over to tell her mother that she and Stan were separating. Olivia had been emotional and weepy. That had been the most horrible year of her life, and her mother, teapot in hand, had been a constant source of love and support.

In a one-year span, Olivia’s oldest son had drowned and her marriage had fallen apart. She didn’t know what she would’ve done if not for her mother and, of course, Grace.

“Olivia?” Jack asked gently. “You’ve been standing in front of the stove for five minutes.”

“I have?” Embarrassed, she brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I was just remembering all the talks I had with my mother over tea,” she whispered.

Jack guided her toward a chair, then set out two mugs. At the moment Olivia felt incapable of performing even that simple task. Reaching across the table she grabbed a tissue and blew her nose. “I’m sorry. I’m being ridiculous.”

“No, you aren’t,” Jack said.

“I was thinking about the day Mom made me tea when Stan and I decided we couldn’t stay married.”

“What brought that up?”

“I…I don’t know exactly. It’s just that she was so wonderful, so reassuring and supportive. That wasn’t the only time, either. I could always count on her to see me through whatever crisis I faced.”

“And you can’t now?”

She shook her head. “Everything’s reversed—I’m the one taking care of Mom. She needs me more than I need her. So does Ben.” She held the tissue to her mouth and swallowed a sob.

Jack stood behind her and rubbed her shoulders. “You have me and your brother and your kids.”

“Yes, I know. But this is…different.”

The kettle whistled and Jack returned to the stove. He poured the water into the pot and carried it to the table.

“This is all because of taking your mother and Ben to the house?”

“Oh, Jack, it’s so hard for me to watch my mother grow old… . She’s trying to pretend everything’s the same, but it isn’t. Today it was even more obvious that she and Ben can’t stay in the house much longer.”

“Do you want me to talk to them?” he asked after a
short pause. “My parents both died years ago, so I haven’t been through this, but…”

“No. I appreciate the offer, but this has to come from Will and me. I can’t blame Mom. I wouldn’t want to leave my home, either. And then there’s the problem of what to do with the house itself.”

When they’d visited the assisted-living complexes, both Olivia and Will had felt encouraged and excited. It’d all sounded so positive, with a variety of programs that would keep her mother and Ben entertained and involved in life. She could visualize her mother leading the knitting group and Ben playing pinochle.

The facilities had exercise and physical therapy programs, musical evenings, reading and craft circles, excursions and more. At each place she must have counted at least five different activities for every day. The meals were well-planned and the menus were nutritious and appealing. Olivia wouldn’t mind eating there herself.

But convincing her mother of the benefits of making that move seemed beyond her.

The phone rang and Jack answered, glancing at caller ID. “It’s Ben or your mother,” he said to Olivia.

“Hello, Charlotte.” Almost immediately his gaze went to her. “Charlotte, of course. Now don’t worry, we’ll be right there.”

Olivia nearly leaped out of her chair. “What happened?” she asked in a panic.

“Everything’s fine,” Jack said calmly. “Apparently Ben fell. He can’t get up and Charlotte can’t help him.”

“Everything’s not fine!” She took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you tell her to call 9-1-1? Is Ben hurt? He might’ve broken his hip… . Oh, my goodness, Jack, this is serious.”

“Ben isn’t hurt. But your mother’s been trying to get him up, and she can’t do it. They’re both exhausted.”

“How could this have happened?” She ran for her jacket, then grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

“She said Ben slipped on the rug in the kitchen.”

Will had purchased the small rug and placed it in front of the new refrigerator, but it had a rubber backing and shouldn’t have slid.