Blackout (17 page)

Lettie nodded. “Okay. Watch more TV and try not to walk so much.”

“That’s a good idea. A very good idea,” Betty told her, patting her arm. “I have to go now. You be careful walking.”

Lettie nodded and put the earphones back on her head. Betty lingered at the doorway for a moment, watching Lettie watch MTV.

Suddenly noticing her feet and back ached, Betty went to Dana Griffith’s room.

Dana’s TV showed Matlock, a frown on his face, shaking a finger at someone. When Dana saw Betty, she removed her earphones. She glanced at her roommate snoring lightly in the other bed. Dana was stretched out on her own bed, still dressed, a worn afghan covering her legs.

“How are you, Dana?” Betty asked.

“Pretty good.”

“That’s not what I heard. Arthritis acting up?”

“Who told on me? Rita?”

Betty nodded.

“It’ll be all right,” Dana said but winced as she shifted position.

“Can I help you get into your nightclothes?” Betty asked gently.

“No, I’ll do it later.”

“You call for help if you need it, remember. Mind if I check your knee?”

Dana grimaced. “If you have to.”

“I have to.” Betty smiled at her. Carefully, she lifted the afghan and raised up the skirt on Dana’s dress. Her knee had swollen up like a balloon, the skin tautly stretched across it. Betty gently felt it, then put dress and cover back. “That looks sore,” she told her. “I’ll get Dr. Henderson to see you tomorrow. I think you need to stay off it as much as possible until then. Have you had any pain medicine?”

Dana shook her head.

“I’m going to get you some.” Betty patted her shoulder. “You’ll have trouble sleeping otherwise.”

“You know I hate taking that stuff,” Dana protested.

“A good attitude, generally. Sometimes, though, it’s better to,” Betty assured her. “Someone you know have a problem with painkillers?”

“How’d you guess? My sister became addicted. She took them for her back. When they didn’t work so good anymore, she started on the alcohol. One of the main reasons I checked in here was so that couldn’t happen to me. And because of my forgetfulness.”

“I understand,” Betty said. “But, Dana, you won’t become addicted from one or two doses. I want you to have a good night’s sleep. It takes a long time to get dependent. Tell you what. I’ll monitor your doses myself. I’ll let you know if I think you’re taking too much.”

“Okay,” Dana agreed. “Thanks, Betty.”

Betty’s step quickened as she went to the nursing station and told the charge nurse to get Dana her medicine, using the doctor’s standing order for authorization.

Ma must be wondering where I’ve been
, she thought. But as she neared her mother’s room, a feeling of dread overcame her. She couldn’t forget those crossed arms. She needn’t have worried. Betty Senior’s voice, audible in the hall outside her door, stridently insisted, “I’m not deaf. Turn that damned thing down a notch. I don’t care if you can’t hear it. It’s my damned television. Turn it down and get out of here. Oh, hello, Betty.” Her voice lowered when she saw her daughter.

The aide edged around Betty, eyes downcast, shoulders hunched. Betty ignored her because she knew the girl was embarrassed and wanted to leave quietly. She felt a little sorry for Marcella. Ma was being difficult, but the girl should be used to it by now.

“Happy as always, I see.” Betty grinned at her mother.

“People don’t listen anymore,” her mother fumed. “Marcella watches TV with me lots of evenings, and she knows where I want the volume set. Turn the damned thing off, will you?”

Betty picked up the remote and clicked the power button. “Satisfied?”

Betty Senior made an impolite noise with her lips.

Betty laughed out loud. “You need to let your feelings out more, Ma. You seem a little repressed lately.”

Her mother glared at her, but her expression changed to one of rapt attention as Betty sat down and told her about her day.

When she mentioned her postponed date with Thomas, Betty Senior became indignant. “You’re thinking of going out with a married man? After all we’ve said about Katherine? I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“This is a little different,” Betty said defensively. “Lettie isn’t really a wife to him anymore.”

“Bull! That’s rationalizing, daughter. You know what the marriage vows say.”

Betty sighed. “In sickness and in health. Yes, I do know. There’s something about him, Ma. I haven’t felt this way in ages.”

Her mother’s expression softened. “Damn. I wish I could give you a hug. You’re having a rough time. I know that. You know that. Be careful you don’t do something you’re regret later. My advice for the day.”

Betty glanced at her watch. “And good advice, as always. I’m going to go now. I couldn’t leave without seeing you.”

“I appreciate that, I really do. But you did interrupt one of my favorite shows, and I would prefer you go home rather than staying here, nattering at me.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Betty exclaimed. She got up and clicked on the TV, adjusting the volume. “Enjoy your show. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday. You have the day off. Take it and savor it.”

“Yes, Mother dear,” Betty replied, laughing. Talk about control, she thought as she left Merry Hills.

The phone began to ring as Betty entered her house. Dumping her keys and purse on the counter, she rushed to pick it up before the machine did. She glanced at the clock as she said, “Hello.” Eight twenty. Not much time before Thomas arrived.

“Betty?” Donald’s strained voice came over the wire.

“Donald!” she exclaimed, kicking off her shoes and running her hand through her hair. “What’s wrong?”

“Hannah had an accident. Broke her hip. She’s at Sacramento General. She’ll be there a few days, I’m afraid. Alice is pretty upset, and I don’t think she should stay alone in the house. I wondered if you…”

Betty sighed, sat down and massaged her left foot. Just what she needed. One more person to worry about. But what could she say? “Bring her over. You know I have a spare room.”
My goodness
, she thought,
does disaster follow that child around?
“Where are you now?”

“At my house. Be there in ten minutes. Thanks, Betty.”

“No, Donald. Listen, you need to go by Hannah’s and get Alice’s things. That will take a while. I bet neither of you have had dinner, either.”

“No.”

“I’ll get something out of the freezer. A casserole I made for the church social. You and Alice come here, and we’ll eat and talk.”

“Thanks, Betty. You’re a godsend. Hope your church won’t miss the casserole.”

“I’ll just make another.” The doorbell rang. “I’ll see you in a while.”

Poor Thomas, she thought, as she hung up. Well, he could eat chicken casserole, too.

Betty opened the front door and greeted Thomas. “Come in. I’m afraid there’s been a change of plans again.”

He quirked those dark eyebrows at her, and she smiled, glad he’d come.

“Let’s go to the kitchen while I explain.” She went to the freezer, got out the casserole, and stuck it in the oven. “I got a call from Donald.” She told him what he’d said. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
I hope you will,
she thought,
but I really should ask you to leave. What will Donald and Alice think when they see you here? Oh, the hell with it. I’m beyond caring and too tired to do anything but just do what has to be done.

“I’d like to stay, if you don’t mind.”

For an answer she handed him a bottle of Zinfandel and a corkscrew. Reaching for two glasses from the cupboard, she told him more about Alice.

“I met her,” Thomas said while opening the wine. A pop sounded as he continued. “Lettie seemed to like her.”

“She’s the girl who brought Lettie back the last time she eloped.” Betty took a package of rolls out of the freezer, opened some canned fruit, dumped it into a bowl and put it in the refrigerator.

“Eloped?” Thomas poured the wine. “Is that what you call it?”

Betty laughed. “An industry term, I’m afraid.”

“Quaint. But that’s why Lettie likes Alice. I know Donald, of course.”

Betty started setting the table, sipping on her wine as she went. When she had finished all she could do before the others arrived, she took Thomas to her atrium and introduced him to Charlie. She filled Charlie’s dish with birdseed, gave him some fresh veggies, and changed his water. Thomas talked to the cockatoo and admired Betty’s plants.

The doorbell announced the young people. Thomas went with Betty to let them in.

Donald seemed surprised but quickly masked it when he saw Thomas. Alice’s face looked tight with worry, and she had no visible reaction to Thomas’s being there. Betty made hostess noises while ushering her guests into the living room.

She glanced around to make sure nothing was out of place. She never noticed much about it anymore, but with all these people seeing it for the first time, she noted the blue couch and love seat with gold braid, set off by the navy carpet that showed no sign of wear. Dark wooden occasional pieces flanked the other furniture. White walls and the white, painted-brick fireplace with a mahogany mantel made the room appear larger. She’d scattered small objects and framed pictures into tall bookshelves filled with best sellers. Prints of flowers and birds on the walls, all lovingly selected, completed the room.

Alice looked beat. Her shoulders sagged and she had dark circles under her eyes. Betty took her overnight bag from Donald. “Come on, Alice, let me show you to the guest room. You men make yourselves comfortable.”

In the bedroom, Betty asked, “Are you all right?”

Alice nodded and smiled weakly. “I’ll be okay. Tired.”

“Well,” Betty said briskly, “let’s feed you, then you can go straight to bed.” Betty helped Alice unpack her few belongings and showed her the bathroom.

They joined the men in the living room. Betty brought everyone something to drink, determined the casserole had heated all the way through, and started serving. After they sat down to eat, Donald said grace and added, “If it please you, Lord, let Hannah have a speedy recovery. Amen.”

As everyone picked up forks, Betty asked, “What exactly happened to her?”

“She slipped on something in the kitchen,” Donald said. “Broke her hip. They had to put her in traction and dope her up pretty good for the pain. She finally fell asleep right before we left.”

“What a shame,” Betty murmured. “Alice, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to.”

Conversation would have been awkward after that, she felt, because Thomas was there, but he kept it going by asking a few questions and telling amusing stories of people he’d met while selling medical supplies.

Everyone helped clear the table and wash the dishes, thanking Betty for the meal. Donald left first, and Alice went to her room to get ready for bed.

Betty walked Thomas to the front door. He took her hand in both of his. “Under the circumstances,” he said, “this turned out to be a pleasant evening, largely due to your efforts. Thank you for letting me stay.”

She smiled at him, squeezing his hand. “You held your own.”

“Well. I still owe you a dinner. Tomorrow night?”

Betty shook her head and removed her hand from his. “I’d better stay home, look after Alice.”

“It seemed to me there’s a young man who’d be more than delighted to take care of her.”

“Part of the reason I’ll stick around. I’m sorry, Thomas. Maybe next Saturday.”

“All right. I’ll be patient, considering the circumstances. Patient but persistent.”

He turned to leave. “I’ll see you at Merry Hills.”

“Yes,” Betty said, wishing he’d stay, wanting him to go, deciding she’d become addled by his presence.

They said good night and she closed the door behind him, bolting it. Turning around, she felt suddenly overwhelmed. She turned off the lights and went to Alice’s room. Alice, dressed in a nightshirt with Snoopy on the front, had already climbed into bed.

“You doing all right?” Betty asked.

“I think so. Can we talk a minute?”

“Of course.” Betty sank wearily into the small chair beside the bed.

“I remembered more today,” Alice told her. “A lot more. Except I still don’t know my name. I’ve got to find my father.” She explained what she recalled.

When she finished, Betty said, “You poor thing! You don’t know what happened to your father in the wreck? You must have fallen down a big hill.”

“I felt like I fell forever. But do you think there’s any way I can find out my name and who my father is?”

“There should be a record of the crash somewhere, but you don’t know what state you were in, do you?”

“No, but Donald does.”

“Of course. He picked you up! He probably thought you were running away from a battering. Or a rape. But it’s in Donald’s personal code not to pry.”

“You think there’s really a way to find out if my father’s alive?”

So, the possibility he hadn’t survived the crash had been bothering her. Betty hadn’t been sure if Alice had even thought of it.

“I’m sure there is. My nephew on the police force can run the facts through a computer, and it should tell us that much. Finding him may be harder. But at least you’d know if he lived through the crash. No last name has come to you yet?”

“Not even my first. He called me Lissy, but I don’t think anyone else did.”

“That’s a nickname for something else, but I don’t know what. We can search in a baby book at the library, though. Lissy. Lizzy? Elizabeth? Liz? Beth?”

Alice shook her head.

“Well, I think it’s a good sign you’ve remembered this much. I’ll bet the rest comes back to you before long.” Betty stood up. “Try to sleep. I’ll call my nephew, Jared, first thing in the morning. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so feel free to sleep late. I have to go to Merry Hills for a while in the morning, but I’ll try to be back for lunch.”

She felt like kissing Alice on the cheek before leaving the room, but decided against it. She didn’t know how Alice would feel about it and didn’t want to spook her.
Getting soft in my old age,
she thought.
But still sensible
.