Day by Day (6 page)

Barbara clenched her own hands. “Sometimes my imagination runs wild, and I have these dreams about Steve’s ex-wife suddenly appearing and taking the children away, even though she hasn’t tried to contact them since she walked out on them three years ago. They’re all I have left of Steve. I don’t want to lose them, too.”

She swallowed hard, all too aware of the similar challenges she and Judy seemed to be facing. Barbara’s loss, with Steve’s death, might be very public, splashed in the
newspapers for all to read about, while Judy’s was more private and perhaps more painful to bear because she was all alone in her grief and struggles. But they both shared the common bond of dealing with the loss of a child, one to death, the other to drugs; their fears about losing their grandchildren; and the ongoing problems of keeping them and adjusting to being mothers again instead of grandmothers. Alone, they struggled in their new roles. Perhaps together, as friends, they might share the struggle and find the path of rediscovered motherhood easier to travel.

Judy held up the bottle of hair dye and read the label. “Summer Sunrise. That’s your color, right?” she asked, changing the subject back to the task at hand.

Barbara nodded.

“Just checking. I’d rather find out now instead of later.”

“Good idea. Maybe while you’re coloring my hair, you could give me some idea of a new style that would be easier to manage?”

When Judy cocked a brow, Barbara smiled. “A little change might be good,” she murmured. “Maybe it’s time for some good change. For both of us.”

Judy cocked the other brow. “For both of us?”

Barbara smiled, but only time would tell if her hopes for a stronger friendship between them would be fulfilled.

A
week after her near-disastrous visit to Grandmother’s Kitchen, Judy was on her way to the Towers, and her life was back on schedule. Again. The trouble was that her schedule today seemed to get a little more unsettled and much more complicated with each passing hour.

First, she had overslept this morning, always a bad start to the day. Brian had been late to school by a whopping fifteen minutes, which meant he had to enter the first grade classroom with all of the children already working at their desks.

In between a rush of unscheduled appointments, she had left another message for Mrs. Worth, the school principal, the third in as many days, but the woman did not seem in any hurry to call her back. Judy had met with the school guidance counselor last week and had the first appointment for Brian with a private counselor set for five o’clock this afternoon. Apparently Judy’s efforts to report
all she was doing to arrange for counseling for Brian ranked low on the principal’s list of priorities.

She arrived at the Towers just before one o’clock, right on time, and got buzzed into the office. She took one step inside, looked around at the lavish display of Mickey Mouse decorations that adorned the office: A clock, computer screensaver, coffee mug and even planters holding foliage worthy of blue ribbons at the annual Philadelphia Flower Show. Mickey was on everything!

She grinned. A touch of Disney was just what she needed today. “What a happy place! I always love coming here, Penny, especially after a rough day.”

The office manager for the past fourteen years, Penny looked up from her seat behind the shoulder-high counter and laughed. “It’s only one o’clock in the afternoon. The day is still young,” she cautioned. She got up, retrieved Judy’s canvas bag with the tools of her trade she kept stored in the office, and lifted the bag to the counter. She looked at Judy and frowned. “What? No baked goods from McAllister’s today? Or are you bringing them later?”

Judy rolled her eyes. “No. Unfortunately, that’s only one small part of my day so far. I had a rough morning. Mrs. Sweeney came in for her weekly touch-up, with three elderly cousins visiting from Florida. Then they all wanted a cut, wash and dry. They even brought their husbands along. Ann’s been sidelined with gout again for the past two days, so I had to handle Mrs. Sweeney and company, who proceeded to eat their way through almost the entire box of baked goods.”

“Ann’s laid up with gout? Again?”

“Again.”

“Poor Ann. I’ll try to give her a call later.”

Judy let out a deep breath. “I was afraid I’d be forced to cancel some of my appointments here today, but somehow I managed to finish Mrs. Sweeney and her cousins all up, scoot them all on their way and still get here on time. I shoved the last two doughnuts down for my lunch.”

“The residents on the second floor who were scheduled for the treats today will be disappointed, but they’ll survive,” Penny quipped. “I’ll put a note out in the Gossip Garden for you, but I won’t mention why they have to wait for another time. It’s safer that way.”

Judy chuckled. “Is there ever a topic safe from residents’ gossip in the social room?”

“Not really, but they’re pretty preoccupied, now that plans are in full swing for next month’s Book Fair. Closing down the avenue to promote reading is as worthy a venture as you can get. Authors appear with their books, crafters sell book-related specialties, schoolchildren perform in little plays and food vendors sell everything that tastes good. It’s a win-win for everyone, but you’d think the Commissioners had approved the entire event again this year just to inconvenience the seniors.”

“I suppose a lot of them aren’t able to read much anymore.”

Penny pointed to the small stack of newspapers at the far end of the counter. “There are fifty-seven apartments here. Every day we get fifty-seven newspapers delivered, courtesy of the Commissioners. See? There are only half a dozen left, which is about par. I won’t even venture a guess at how many dozens and dozens of tabloids and magazines come into the building every week. What does that tell you?”

Judy shrugged. “I guess they’re still reading.”

“They can’t all be lining birdcages or litter boxes,” Penny teased. “I think many of them are reading, if only to get a good discussion going in the Gossip Garden. To be honest, I think there are a lot of seniors who like the Book Fair, but they get nervous around crowds. We’re not an assisted living facility, but many of our residents use canes or walkers. The Book Fair drew what? Four thousand people last year? Even with the avenue closed to traffic and opened up for pedestrians, between all the booths and the stage set up for the children, it’s still a bit of a mob scene. That’s why some of the residents just stay put for the day.”

When Penny smiled again, her eyes twinkled. “A lot of the residents are excited about the Book Fair, and they’ve volunteered to help, but the event gives the grumblers the perfect excuse to sit around and complain. So I got the building manager to agree to add a new element to the day. I’m hoping they’ll all be so busy, they’ll forget to grumble and my daughter’s Girl Scout troop will get credit for a community service project at the same time.”

Judy checked her watch. Penny loved to talk and normally, Judy loved to listen, but not today. Still, she would rather be a little late, than rude. “What do you have in mind for them?”

“Adopt-a-Grandparent Day. Each of the girls will come and spend the day with one of the residents who doesn’t volunteer or who doesn’t plan to attend the Book Fair.”

Judy drew her brows together. “You’d know who they were?”

Penny turned, punched a few keys on her computer and
pointed to the monitor. “This is a list of volunteers so far. Joan Smith is on the Book Fair committee, and she e-mails updates to me once a week or so. As for the folks just planning to attend, that’s even easier for me to find out.” She pointed to the pink plastic clipboard halfway down the counter. “Sign-up sheet,” she explained.

“They actually sign up, just to attend?”

Penny laughed. “For ten dollars? You bet they do. Actually, we just issue Book Fair Dollars. I make them up on my computer, and we redeem them with some grant money after the fact. Otherwise, someone might take the ten dollars and keep it.”

When the telephone rang, she held up one finger to keep Judy from leaving and answered the call. “Yes, Mrs. Edwards. No, she didn’t forget. She’s just on her way up now. No problem.” She hung up and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. Guess I held you up.”

Judy hoisted her bag from the counter and realized she had forgotten to bring more free samples of hair care products to replace the ones she had given away. Just another part of a bad day. She handed Penny a list of her three appointments today, a minor accommodation she had in her workday after Brian had come to live with her. “Just in case someone’s looking for me. I’ve been playing telephone tag with Mrs. Worth, the principal at Park Elementary. If she calls, tell her I’ll call her back and then let me know.”

Penny nodded and pinned the list to a bulletin board on her side of the counter and answered another telephone call while Judy left by the side door that allowed residents and workers to enter the office without using the foyer and waiting to be buzzed inside.

She passed the sixty-gallon, freshwater aquarium, a new addition to the inner foyer and whispered a quick prayer for Dan O’Leary whose family had donated the aquarium in his name. Ninety-seven when he died last year, he had been the last of the original residents who had moved into Welles Towers when it had opened years ago. The aquarium seemed a fitting memorial to the avid fisherman and quickly became a favorite with the residents.

She nodded to several women sitting together nearby waiting for the county bus to take them to the grocery store and took a quick glance inside the aquarium while she waited for the elevator. Dozens of fish were swimming in and out of the plants and ceramic decorations. Either the residents had finally stopped raiding the fish food, over-feeding and killing the fish, or Penny had solved the problem after losing a second tank of fish by moving the fish food into her office.

When the elevator arrived, she rode to the third floor where she found Mrs. Edwards sitting in the alcove by the window. Scarcely five feet tall and thin to the point of emaciation, she was a powerhouse of energy. Her mind was still sharp, and she was one of the nicest seniors in the Towers, if not the most talkative. “I saw you walk in a bit ago. Penny bending your ear again?”

Judy laughed and followed her down the hallway. “Just a little. I’m sorry I’m late. She was telling me about the Book Fair.”

The elderly woman stopped in front of her apartment door and used the key hanging from a lanyard around her neck to unlock the door. “Handy little thing,” she commented as she let the key drop and tugged on the lanyard.
“Somebody donated a whole case of them to the residents so we wouldn’t lose our keys. I checked it good, though, and made sure it had that safety clip so if I fall when the key is in the door, the strap will snap apart and I won’t hang myself like that poor soul out West. Hung there for days before anyone found him. Imagine living eighty-some years, fighting in the war and dying like that. Not an ounce of dignity.”

She shook her head. “Awful tabloids. Had a picture of him, too. Looked like they tried to block out his face, but they did a terrible job. Not that it would have mattered much. The poor man’s body was all twisted up, plain as day.”

Judy shivered. She had gone from a touch of magic to a dose of gruesome reality within minutes, but that was par for the course here at the Towers. She followed her customer into the kitchen and set everything up. She had the woman seated, with a plastic cape around her shoulders within minutes. “When you called, you said you wanted a trim, right?”

“Just an inch or so. Keeps the hair healthy to have it trimmed regularly.”

Judy undid the braid of gray-and-white hair wrapped into a crown and slid her fingers through the thinning hair to work out any snags or tangles before brushing the hair that fell just below her customer’s shoulder blades. “Your hair feels beautiful, like silk. You must be using that conditioner I gave you.”

“It’s almost gone. Do you have any more in that bag of yours?”

Judy shook her head. “No, but I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. I’ll drop off a few samples for you.”

“That would be sweet of you.”

Judy misted Mrs. Edwards’s hair, separated it into sections, and began to cut while she got filled in on the latest tabloid headlines and Mrs. Edwards’s plans to volunteer at the Book Fair.

“I learned my lesson and made sure I signed up early. Last year I waited until the last minute and wound up at a booth selling cotton candy. What a mess! I came home, looked in the mirror and cried until you got here, remember?”

Judy held back a giggle. “I remember. Before I washed your hair, I thought the pink-and-blue cotton candy added a bit of whimsy to your braid.”

“And my eyebrows and my ears? Oh, I was one sticky mess. I was so worried you’d laugh at me, like certain other unnamed people who live in my building.”

“I would never laugh at you,” Judy promised.

When the telephone rang, Mrs. Edwards lifted the cape and pointed to the wall phone. “Be a dear and answer for me, would you? Hannah Damm was supposed to call me this morning, but she never did. That woman is getting more forgetful by the day. Tell her I’ll call her back.”

Scissors in hand, Judy answered the telephone.

“Judy? Penny. Mrs. Worth called from the school, like you thought she would. I told her you’d call her back, but she was a little huffy. She wants you to call her back right away. ‘Immediately,’ as she put it.”

Judy sighed. “Well, isn’t that dandy? I call that woman for three days, patiently waiting for her to find the time to call me back, and now that she’s ready…Mrs. Worth will just have to wait for me for a change. If she calls back again,
tell her I’m booked until five so I’ll stop in to see her in the morning when I take Brian to school. I may not be an important lady like she is, but my customers are.”

“Got it. I’ll take care of her for you.”

“Thanks.” Judy hung up and returned to her customer.

“Trouble at school?”

Judy shrugged and resumed cutting. “Nothing that can’t wait till tomorrow.”

“It’s hard being a grandmother and raising your grand-baby, isn’t it?”

“Not all the time.” She snipped at a few pieces she had missed. “I hadn’t seen Brian since he was a toddler, so we’re really just getting to know one another. Between school and work, we don’t have all that much time together. He spends more time with his teacher every day than with me.”

“I was a teacher, you know.”

“Really?”

“Fourth grade. I only taught for a year or two before I met James. As soon as we got engaged, that was it. I got called down to the principal’s office, and he fired me on the spot.”

Judy gasped. “Fired you? For getting engaged?”

Mrs. Edwards laughed. “We were getting married right away and back then, teachers weren’t allowed to be married. We couldn’t do a lot of things teachers do today, but I didn’t mind trading a classroom full of students for married life. Not one bit.”

Judy checked to see that the ends were even. “That’s it for today. Shall I braid your hair again for you? It’s still a little damp.”

“Don’t bother, dear. I’ll sit on my couch by the window and let the sun dry my hair first. Since you’re going to Hannah’s next, tell her to call me when you leave, will you?”

Judy agreed, packed up and cleaned up. “You’re good for another five or six weeks,” she suggested.

Mrs. Edwards smiled. “You’ll do fine with that boy. You might be his grandmother, but you’re a good woman. You’ll be a grand mother to him, too.”

Judy swallowed hard. “Thank you.” She left for Hannah Damm’s apartment with a five-dollar tip for herself, all in quarters inside a little plastic bag, and a box of animal crackers for Brian. But the notion she was a grand mother as well as a grandmother was a priceless memento she tucked into her heart.