The Loft Read online

  Ophelia beams. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me,” Fred replies sharply. “I’ve already told you this goes against my better judgment. You could have gotten a good price for that property—”

  “This is what makes me happy,” Ophelia replies. “And that’s enough for me.”

  “Makes you happy?” Fred shakes his head morosely. “What about Edward? I doubt he’d approve of you giving away something he worked hard to—”

  Ophelia interrupts. “You’re wrong. He approves wholeheartedly.”

  She knows this for a fact, because once her decision was made Edward came to her in a dream. A dream so sweet it lingers still.

  ~ ~ ~

  Annie visits the Kipling Center on Tuesday afternoon, but for the remainder of the week she is busy tending the garden and running the apothecary. She is also readying the house for Ophelia’s return.

  Although Max has already applied for a building permit, the new room will not be completed for several months. Until then, Ophelia will sleep in the room across the hall from Oliver and Annie.

  It is only for a short while, but Annie wants Ophelia to be happy in the room. She has decorated it with a new comforter and new draperies. Next to the bed she has added a small table with dried flowers and a basket of the jasmine potpourri she created. It is not nearly as pungent as Ophelia’s but seems as though it is capable of sometimes changing aromas.

  Annie first suspects this on Wednesday when Max delivers the final drawings. After they’ve pored over every last detail of the plan, she shows Max the bedroom Ophelia will use until the construction is complete. The moment they walk in, she catches the scent of chocolate.

  Although Annie is hard pressed to say what prompts her to ask, she turns to Max and says, “Would you like a cup of hot chocolate?”

  Max registers a look of surprise. “Is it that obvious?”

  “No, but when we came in here I thought I smelled—”

  “I smelled it too,” Max says. “Did you move the potpourri from the hallway?”

  Annie smiles and shakes her head. “No, this is one I mixed.”

  “Wow,” Max laughs. “You’ve definitely got the power.”

  That afternoon they sit on the screened porch and have hot chocolate with sugar cookies. Again they talk of Max’s year in Paris. She tells of the bistros where she and Julian sipped chocolate so sweet it lingered on her tongue for hours and of romantic walks along the Seine.

  Max smiles with the sweetness of such a thought. “They say the Seine is the river of love.”

  She hesitates a moment then tells of that last week when Julian bought a yellow lock symbolic of their love.

  “He took me to a bridge that crosses the Seine and clipped the lock onto the wire fence. I’ll never forget how he kissed me then hurled that key into the river.”

  She gives a long sigh thick with the memory. “It meant as lovers we were forever locked to one another, but…”

  “Did you ever try emailing him?” Annie asks.

  Max gives a saddened shake of her head. “When I didn’t hear from him I figured it was a fling and he was ready to move on.”

  “It’s never too late to try.”

  A smile appears on Max’s face. “That was three years ago. By now he’s probably married and got a toddler walking around.”

  Although Max does not say this, the thought of reaching out to Julian has crossed her mind countless times. But she has never mustered up the courage to do so. In her mind the memory left undisturbed retains its sweetness. Pried open to reveal the truth, it could sour and turn rancid. A good memory is better than nothing.

  She moves back to talk of Ophelia’s return. “So what’s the plan?”

  Annie tells of how she is arranging a dinner party for the day of Ophelia’s return.

  “Small,” she says, “but fancy. Ophelia has no family, so it will be just the four of us. Me, Oliver, Ophelia and, of course, you.”

  “I’ll bring champagne,” Max volunteers.

  Annie nods. It is an added touch of festivity she hadn’t thought of.

  ~ ~ ~

  The week flies by, and it is Saturday before Annie has a chance to visit the Kipling Center. When she walks into the room, the first thing she notices is that the bed next to Ophelia is empty.

  “Where’s Lillian?” she asks.

  “She was discharged this morning,” Ophelia replies sadly.

  Annie can tell Ophelia’s been crying. “Just because she went home doesn’t mean you can’t remain friends.”

  “I know,” Ophelia replies. “But it was so nice having her here beside me.” She tells the story Lillian has told her, the one about why she went to live at Baylor Towers. She hopes Annie will catch hold of the message behind the story, but she doesn’t.

  “I guess being all alone like that is why Lillian needed to find a place where she had friends. Luckily you don’t have that problem,” Annie says. “You have me.”

  Before Ophelia can move into what she hopes to say, Annie segues into how she’s redecorated the bedroom across the hall.

  “The comforter is covered with bright pink cabbage roses,” she says. “I think you’ll love it.”

  “I’m sure I will,” Ophelia says, suppressing a sigh.

  Determined to fill the emptiness left by Lillian, Annie chatters about all the things they will do once Ophelia comes home.

  “It’s less than a week now,” she says cheerfully.

  At three o’clock Sam and Pauline come for a visit. Ophelia’s face brightens the moment they come through the door, and Annie notices this.

  Sam comes to the side of the bed, plants a kiss on Ophelia’s cheek and says, “Lil couldn’t make it today, but she’ll be here tomorrow.” He gives a toothy grin and adds, “She gave us the good news that you’re—”

  Ophelia senses what he is about to say and moves to stop him. In a voice that’s barely a shade lower than yelling, she says, “You mean the good news that I’m going home next Friday?”

  The remainder of Sam’s words is buried beneath Ophelia’s voice.

  Before he can get back to the subject, Ophelia grabs the water pitcher and hands it to Annie. “Would you mind getting some fresh ice water from down the hall?”

  “Of course not.” Annie takes the pitcher and trots out.

  As soon as she is gone from the room Ophelia whispers loudly, “I haven’t told her yet!”

  Pauline and Sam both give an understanding nod.

  After she returns with the water Annie stays for another hour. She remains in the background as she watches Ophelia laughing and enjoying the company of her newfound friends. Seeing her so happy gives Annie an idea, one she is surprised she hasn’t thought of sooner.

  Before leaving, she tugs Pauline into the hallway and whispers, “Next Friday we’re having a welcome home dinner party for Ophelia, and we’d love to have you, Sam and Lillian join us.” She hands Pauline a scribbled note with the address.

  “Um, I’m not sure…” Pauline stutters.

  “If it’s transportation, I can have Oliver pick you up and drive you home.”

  “That’s not a problem,” Pauline says. “Baylor Towers has a car service for us, but—”

  “Oh, please come,” Annie begs. “It would mean so much to Ophelia.”

  Pauline reluctantly says she will have to first check with Sam and Lillian.

  “Can I call you?” she asks.

  Annie nods at the note. “My cell phone number is right there on the bottom.” She turns to leave then looks back and adds, “But not a word to Ophelia; the party is going to be a surprise.”

  As Annie disappears down the hall, Pauline shakes her head ruefully. Normally no one likes a party better than Pauline, but she can already smell trouble in the air.

  Annie

  It’s funny how things work out. This afternoon when I went to visit Ophelia she looked kind of gloomy. With Lillian gone and the other bed empty, it was pretty understandable. I thought may
be it would cheer her up if I told her about all the fun we’d have when she came home. It didn’t. But when her friends came in, she started looking a whole lot happier.

  Watching her laugh at those silly jokes of Sam’s I saw a different Ophelia. Not better or worse, just different. With me she’s the teacher and I’m the student. Even with all the wonderful times we’ve had together, I never once saw her laugh the way she did with Sam and Pauline.

  That made me realize how selfish I’ve been. No matter how old somebody gets, they still need friends. Not someone to watch over and protect the way Ophelia does me, but someone who’s an equal. Somebody who makes you laugh the way Sam makes Ophelia laugh.

  I guess the truth is no matter how much Ophelia and I love one another, it’s not the same as having your own friends.

  I’ve got Oliver and Max and Giselle, but up until now the only really close person Ophelia had was me. I know she says she’s got Edward, but a memory isn’t the same as having a person there to sit down and share a cup of coffee.

  I hope Sam, Pauline and Lillian all come to Ophelia’s welcome home party. I can’t think of anything that would make her happier—except maybe seeing the drawing for the new room.

  On the way home I made a decision. Once a week I’m going to drive Ophelia into town so she can visit her friends at Baylor Towers. And if she wants, I’ll do it more than once a week.

  I can hardly wait to see the smile on her face when she finds out she’s getting a room exactly like the loft and going into town to see her friends every single week.

  Coming Home

  Two days later Ophelia is told she is getting a new roommate. She hopes for someone like Lillian, but Gertrude Kaminski turns out to be a woman with her eyebrows pinched together and her mouth puckered into a pout.

  Thinking Gertrude most likely feels as lost as she did the first day, Ophelia does what Lillian would have done. She climbs from her bed, thumps her way past the half-closed divider curtain and asks, “Would you like this curtain pushed open?”

  “Unh-uh,” Gertrude says and shakes her head.

  “I thought maybe we could chat. Get to know one another.”

  “No thanks,” Gertrude says and turns her face to the wall.

  Before Ophelia gets back to her side of the room, Gertrude’s daughter comes running in. She is red-faced and winded.

  “Sorry, Mama,” she says. “I hurried much as I could, but the gift shop—”

  “Phoebe.” Gertrude’s mouth slides into a sneer. “Did you or did you not get me my spearmint gum?”

  “I didn’t, Mama, but the reason—”

  Gertrude gives a loud huff. “I ask for one little thing, and you can’t do it?”

  “I tried, Mama, but—”

  “Hush up those excuses, and close that curtain. I don’t like strangers poking their nose in my business.”

  As Phoebe closes the divider curtain she smiles at Ophelia and shrugs.

  For the remainder of the day, the only time Ophelia sees Gertrude is when she passes by the inside bed on her way to the bathroom or when she goes to the sunroom to watch the Ellen Degeneres Show. Although she doesn’t see much of the woman, she hears everything.

  Before the first day is out Phoebe has told her mama if she doesn’t stop nagging her about every little thing, she’s gonna find herself with no place to live.

  “That would be just like you to do such a thing to your poor old mama,” Gertrude replies. “After all the years I did without just so you could have—”

  “You never did without anything, Mama. You was so demanding of Daddy he run off and left you. Now you’re doing it to me.” Phoebe makes a noise that is somewhere between a moan and a cry of anguish.

  “If you had your way, you’d run poor Harold off the way you did Daddy,” she says. “Then you’d have me waiting on you hand and foot!”

  “You should’ve never married Harold,” Gertrude says. “He’s a worthless piece of—”

  “Just shut up, Mama! Shut up, or I swear I’ll walk out of here and never come back!”

  When Lillian and Sam come to visit the next afternoon, Ophelia suggests they go down to the sunroom.

  “No need,” Lillian says. “We’ll just invite your roomie to play.”

  Before Ophelia can whisper a background of what’s been happening, Lillian pulls back the divider curtain and asks Gertrude if she’d like to join in a game of pinochle.

  “No, I don’t! Playing cards is a heathen’s way of shaking hands with the devil!”

  Lillian gives her a look of disbelief. “It’s pinochle!”

  “Shut that curtain before I call the nurse and have you thrown outta here for disturbing the patients.”

  “Suit yourself, you old crab ass,” Lillian says.

  Sam gathers the cards, and they head for the sunroom.

  As they walk down the hall, Lillian says, “Good grief, that woman is awful.”

  “Her daughter is almost as bad,” Ophelia replies. “You ought to hear the way they go at it tooth and nail.”

  “I’ll bet they live together,” Lillian says.

  Ophelia nods. “I think so.”

  “That’s exactly why I didn’t go live with my Chrissie,” Lillian says. “I love her to pieces, and she loves me too, but people can get on each other’s nerves and before you know it love turns as sour as month old milk.”

  “That’s true enough,” Sam agrees.

  While Ophelia says nothing more about this, in her mind it confirms that she has made the right decision. Hopefully Annie will agree.

  ~ ~ ~

  On Friday morning she is scheduled to go home, and Ophelia is ready to leave before the breakfast trays are served. She has had more than enough of Phoebe and Gertrude’s squabbling. It is barely nine o’clock, but her bag is packed. She is dressed and sitting in the chair when Annie arrives.

  Seeing this, Annie smiles. She too is glad Ophelia is coming home. It will be a responsibility caring for her but a responsibility Annie is happy to have.

  After the last of the paperwork is signed the nurse wheels Ophelia to the front exit, and they wait for Annie to bring the car around. When she pulls up, Annie jumps from the car and comes around to assist Ophelia. Before there is a moment to object, she lifts Ophelia’s legs into the car and checks to see that all fingers and toes are clear of the door.

  “You don’t have a thing to worry about,” she says. “I’m going to take good care of you.”

  “I don’t need caring for,” Ophelia replies. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I could have easily as not walked to the car.”

  Annie rolls past Ophelia’s words and tells how everything has been readied for her return.

  “I’ve clipped a bouquet of fresh peonies for your room,” she says. “I know how you love those.”

  “You needn’t have.”

  “It was no bother.”

  Annie watches the road as she drives and doesn’t see the perplexed expression on Ophelia’s face.

  “And wait until you hear what we’re having for dinner,” she continues. “Oliver bought a gas grill for the backyard, and tonight he’s barbequing steaks. After having hospital food for so long, I bet you’ll really enjoy a nice juicy steak.”

  “Actually the food at Kipling was pretty good. Tasty, but nice and light.”

  When they arrive at Memory House, Ophelia feels the weight of remembering heavy in her heart. She aches to climb the stairs and again be in the loft. For a moment she pauses at the foot of the staircase, remembering the first time she danced up the stairs with Edward trailing behind her. Oh, how they’d laughed with delight. Three times they raced up and down the new staircase; then, exhausted, they fell upon the bed, still laughing at the foolishness of such play.

  Ophelia moves on, past the parlor with its puffy chintz sofa and chiming clock, past the dining room with its mahogany table and into the back bedroom. The room has a fresh new look. She turns to Annie.

  “It looks lovely.
”

  Annie asks if Ophelia is tired. “Would you prefer to take a nap, or shall I make lunch and we’ll sit on the back porch?”

  Ophelia opts for lunch on the porch. She hopes that a few quiet moments together will enable her to say what she has to say.

  Annie hurries into the kitchen, and Ophelia follows close behind.

  “I’ll fix a salad,” Ophelia says and pulls open the refrigerator door.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” Annie says and pushes the door closed. “You’re not going to lift a finger. Just sit down and relax; I’m here to take care of you.” With her arm around Ophelia’s shoulder, she eases her over to the kitchen chair.

  “But I want to help,” Ophelia argues.

  This is true. She has spent her life moving about the kitchen as Annie is now doing, and it saddens her to step aside. It makes her feel older than her ninety years. Helpless almost.

  “Dandelion or peppermint tea?” Annie asks.

  “Dandelion,” Ophelia answers wearily. She wants to fill the diffuser herself, but she is no match for the formidable force of Annie’s love.

  Once they are settled on the porch, they talk of all that has happened in the time she has been gone.

  “I’ve met a new friend,” Annie says. “Max. She’s an architect.”

  “I’m enjoying some new friends also,” Ophelia replies. “They all live at Baylor Towers, an apartment building specially designed for seniors. The thing about living at Baylor is—”

  “I met your new friends at the rehab center,” Annie says. “They’re lovely people. In fact I’ve invited Lillian, Sam and Pauline to your welcome home dinner.”

  “Welcome home dinner?”

  Annie nods. “I was saving it as a surprise, but then I thought you might want to get dressed up since it’s going to be a party.”