Page 81 of Insidious Heart
Even still, to think she survived so much in over eighty years of life only to end up in a shithole like Rolling Meadows Nursing Home then literally catch her death due to neglect is infuriating.
Margie Sanderson deserves better than this, and the least I can do is spend her final hours with her in hopes they mean something to both of us when they’re over.
They’ll mean something to me, anyway.
I never knew my grandparents.
Beau dropped out and left home when he was young, and he cut ties with his mom and dad well before he met my mother. And by the time I was old enough to do a little investigating into my paternal grandparents, they were already gone.
On my mom’s side?
I have no idea.
I don’t even know her maiden name let alone where Celeste Williams was originally from or if she had any family at all. I know next to nothing about my mother and all I have to hold onto is a photo Rochelle gave me and my very few rapidly fading memories.
I’ve never even seen my birth certificate.
Which makes sense when I think about my father as a whole.
He cut himself off from his own family because he didn’t think he needed them, then Beau turned around and isolated my mom from hers so she couldn’t leave him. And now he’s doing it to me too. Which is evident in the way I’m literally locked up and only allowed to go two places, and can’t speak to anyone outside the club. My father is the master of keeping his property under lock and key, and far away from prying eyes, so it’s no surprise those actions were extended to his family as well.
I think part of that is why Mrs. Sanderson is so important to me.
Sure, our stories are relatable and my heart is literally broken for her and all she’s been through, but the glimpse of clarity I’d see, the more lucid moments I shared with Margie, were when my attachment grew and I started to view her as the grandmother I never had, Alzheimer’s or not.
And that’s exactly why I told Linnie I’d do my regular checks on the other residents when I’m supposed to, and help with dinner and wrangling for meds, but unless she needs me, my ass will be planted right here next to Margie Sanderson until she’s reunited with her husband and baby girl. And I’ve stayed true to my word for the last seven and a half hours of my shift.
I sigh as I set the rag in the bowl, my gaze wandering over the almost serene look on Mrs. Sanderson’s face before I close my eyes and lay my head down on the edge of her bed.
She’s ready.
I absolutely believe without a doubt that Margie is ready to give up the fight and just let go, to finish out her time in this world before finally moving to the next. It’s been a long battle and I don’t blame her one bit for surrendering now.
But selfishly, I don’t want her to go.
I’mnot ready.
There are so few people I care about, so few people I have in my life to look forward to seeing, and if Margie isn’t here to be my bright spot at work regardless of how much time I spend searching for Jolene, what’s the point in coming here at all?
“Stevie?”
I open my eyes and connect with a pair of pale, glassy, red-rimmed ones staring back at me. Quickly lifting my head, I scoot closer to Margie and use the back of my hand to check her temp. “I’m here. What can I do for you, Mrs. Sanderson?”
“Nothing.” She sighs, turning into my touch as I place my palm against her cheek. “You’ve already done enough.”
My eyes well with tears but I try to keep them at bay. “Are you sure? Would you like a drink? I have a little broth here, maybe you should try to…”
Margie shakes her head slowly. “Just…” She takes a few shallow breaths. “Just promise me… you’ll look after Jolene.”
“I always do.” My heart breaks wide open as this strong and resilient woman finally stops fighting.I’m not ready.“I always find her when she runs off, and I’ll make sure to take extra care while you get better—”
“No.” Mrs. Sanderson shakes her head more firmly. “I mean… I want you to… take her home, Stevie. She needs a good… a good home.”
“But-but what about you? What about…”
“Thank you for looking after her, Stevie. For looking after both of us.”
A tear slips down my cheek as I search her eyes, the clearest they’ve been in all my time working with her, the hard truth something I can’t keep trying to deny. So I just nod my head in response.
