What Stella could see was that Susan was irritated by this timeworn resident in sneakers and a house dress explaining her job to her, explaining Stella’s schedule, Dianne acting the nurse and seeing Susan as the resident.
Dianne took Stella by the shoulders. “Stella, Eugene’s back. He was just on a sick leave. He broke his ankle. Remember? Not the Covid. He’s healthy now. Saw him out the window when he parked his car and skipped right in like nobody’s business.”
Susan beckoned and Dianne walked behind her; Stella followed Dianne. “Stella thinks he went away for good. The way Isaiah did.” Dianne towered over the petite blonde nurse.
“Now, Dianne, hon, this is a meeting just for Stella. Stella knows Isaiah is gone.” Susan smiled at Dianne as she might at a young child. It was a practised smile.
Suddenly Stella felt very old and tired. Where had Isaiah gone? What did this young nurse mean? How had all the years passed? Time had come looking for Stella, had found her room one night, walked in through the dark and settled down on top of her, sinking into her flesh and rooting in her bones, into her blood and joints. Now time was in her groin, groping around, making things sore and out of place.
“She don’t know he’s gone is what I’m trying to tell you. And if I’m not there, how will you know what she thinks?”
Stella thought about Isaiah, about what Dianne meant, that he was gone and not coming back. Eugene had gone, but they said he was back now. Isaiah would be back.
“Well, then how do you think you can help, Dianne, when she doesn’t talk to you either?” Susan replied.
Stella watched Dianne cross her arms and lean back, looking at Susan. Stella knew Dianne thought this new nurse was the biggest idiot she’d ever encountered. “I can tell by her face. Isn’t that right, Stella? She talks with her body. That’s how I hear her.”
Stella patted Dianne on the shoulder as she turned and followed Nurse Susan down the hall to a meeting room. Nurse Calvin came in. Stella tried to remember just when Nurse Calvin would retire. In a few weeks? It was summer. It was August, Stella saw by looking at the bank calendar on the wall.
Stella heard Eugene’s voice as she came into the room, his bright coppery hair flecked through with silver, and his green eyes that bulged out in a reptilian way Stella found both disconcerting and reassuring. He had been her social worker for more than two decades, since he was a young single man — now he was the father of triplet boys, all at university. He stood up, smiling as he pulled out a chair for her. “Stella, how are you? It’s good to see you. I was off on sick leave for a while but I’m back now. I broke my ankle playing soccer, my old man’s league. But all better, nothing serious. Grace told me you were asking for me a few weeks ago. I know they sent someone different each time. Sorry about that. Anyway, it’s good to see you, Stella. I’m sorry I couldn’t go to the funeral.”
Stella didn’t know which funeral he was speaking about. Emily, an elderly resident who had still managed to go to yoga, doing it in her wheelchair, had died when the lilacs were out. And before her so many died that they had one memorial service.
“Stella, a space has come open in one of the group homes, remember? You could try independent living again. I know you hated it, but maybe this time you might enjoy living in a home environment. This one is called Mountain Top, up on the South Mountain.”
This was the last thing Stella might enjoy. It wasn’t a real home. Her home was at the centre. They had kept her safe all these years, even when the Covid came. And now this postcard — that Cynthia was coming. It was at the Jericho Centre Stella knew she would be protected. Everything needed to stay in order, in place. It was how Stella felt safe, here, where she had been for years, with her daily routines, with familiar faces, with the seasons, the wide windows, the walking paths, the old poor-farm cemetery, with old purring Cat, Fred and Bob. Dianne. Stella refused to be trapped deep inland, on a country road, knowing it would take her days to walk to town.
Stella rocked back and forth. Nurse Calvin leaned forward in her chair, letting out a dramatic sigh.
Stella saw Eugene give Nurse Calvin a quick hard glance. He smiled at Stella. “It’s okay, Stella. It was just an idea we thought we’d run by you.”
Nurse Calvin persisted. “It’s not just an idea. There’s no need for you to have a bed here. You know there’s a shortage in these facilities. Wouldn’t it be nice to be in the country, Stella? In a real house? I mean, it’s still institutional, but homier.”
The more agitated Stella became, the more entrenched Nurse Calvin was. “It says right here in the brochure it’s located on the highest elevation. You can see almost all the way down the Valley to Seabury on a clear day. You can see the sun glinting off the Mercy River, it says.”
Stella crumpled in her chair and put her hands on the top of her head.
“I think we’ve talked about this enough, Mrs. Calvin.” Eugene squeezed Stella’s shoulder ever so gently, as he always had, even when he was a young social worker, checking to see if she was real or a figment of his imagination, Stella thought. “Why don’t you go outside and get some fresh air? Grace says you and Dianne are coming to see her late
