deserved more respect than that. Meredith exchanged her comfy robe for her best pair of trouser jeans, a sleeveless wine-colored shell, and a three-quarter sleeve, lightweight brown cardigan.
Lastly, she stepped into brown ballet flats before making a mad dash for the car. “Lord, please don’t let her have an episode because I’m fifteen or twenty minutes late.”
At 4:05, by the clock in the dashboard, her cell phone rang.
“Hello, Beverly. I am on my way out to see you right now.”
“You’re still coming?”
Meredith wasn’t familiar enough with Beverly yet to know if her tone carried panic or excitement. “I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
“’Kay.” The click and silence that followed were apparently the hallmark ending of a phone conversation with Beverly O’Hara.
When she arrived at the center, she had to park at the back end of the parking lot. No doubt most of the residents received regular visits from their families on Sundays. Would she ever become part of Beverly’s family?
She shook off the thought. Plenty of time to deal with Major later.
Cool air whooshed out the sliding front doors. Meredith started the stairs two at a time but slowed her pace halfway up when she got winded. She really needed to start exercising again.
She took two wrong turns but eventually found Beverly’s room. She knocked. And waited. Odd. She knocked again. No answer.
Returning to the lobby, she approached what looked like a concierge station. The young lady behind the high counter—whose name tag included the initials R.N. after her name—smiled up at her. “May I help you?”
“I’m here to see Beverly O’Hara, but she’s not answering her door.”
“Is she expecting you?”
Meredith nodded. “I just talked to her on the phone about ten minutes ago.”
“You’re looking for Beverly?” Another nurse approached the desk.
“Yes. I’m supposed to be having tea with her.” Saying it renewed Meredith’s amusement at how Beverly had described it.
“I think I saw her go out onto the back terrace. If you go down those stairs there”—she pointed to a door with an illuminated Exit sign over it—“you’ll come out right by the back doors.”
“Thanks.” Meredith entered the stairwell and stopped just beyond the door at the bottom to get her bearings. She was in a hallway that looked very much like the one above, except to her right was a large glass door leading onto a patio.
Two women who looked about Beverly’s age stood just inside the door. Meredith smiled at them, and they giggled, putting their heads together and whispering as she passed.
Outside, she slid her sunglasses down from the top of her head and looked around. The large flagstone paved area looked like an outdoor café, and most of the tables were filled with residents and their family members—most still dressed in their Easter Sunday finery.
But she didn’t see Beverly anywhere. She was just about to head inside when she heard someone calling, “Excuse me, excuse me, are you Mary Kate?”
“I’m—yes, I’m Mary Kate.” At least she hoped in this instance she was.
The elderly lady grinned, showing dentures that looked too big for her mouth. “Come this way. Beverly is waiting for you.”
“Oh.” Meredith released a relieved breath. “Good.”
The woman took Meredith’s hand and practically dragged her through the maze of tables and down a little path leading away from the main patio. Behind a large magnolia tree, they came upon a second patio—much smaller, covered with a wood pergola. It had only two tables, at one of which sat Beverly ... and Major.
Meredith’s heart pounded. She hadn’t seen or spoken with him since Thursday, that awful morning. She sent up one last prayer that he hadn’t really meant most of the hurtful things he’d said to her.
Beverly looked up, and a smile transformed her face from gaunt to angelic. “Mary Kate.”
Major whipped his head around. Had Ma truly lost it this time?
But instead of the fictitious Mary Kate Danaher from
As she came around to greet his mother, Meredith touched his shoulder. Fleeting and light, the contact told him enough. She’d already forgiven him. But he still needed to say the words to her.
“I was just telling Danny yesterday how romantic I thought this place was. He was too scared to ask you to come, so I called you myself.”
Heat tweaked Major’s cheeks.
“I’m glad you did call, Beverly.”
His mother grabbed Meredith’s forearm and practically forced her into the chair next to him. “You two wait right there.” She skipped away with her friend.
Major stared after her.
“What’s wrong?”
“I haven’t heard her giggle like that in ... ever.” He summoned his courage to face Meredith again. “Since she met you, she’s been happier than I’ve seen her in more years than I care to remember.”
“I think she’s a wonderful person.”
“She is a wonderful person. And I’m...” He swallowed back years of following John Wayne’s character’s advice. “I’m sorry I never told you about her.”
“You were trying to protect her.”
“No. I was trying to protect me. I was embarrassed by her, ashamed to admit I have a mother with schizophrenia, scared to see how people reacted to that knowledge.”
“You
“Was. Past tense.” Rustling noises and women’s whispers and giggles caught his ear. “There’s just one more thing I need to do to make it right.”
Ma and her friend returned carrying plates, with two other women behind them holding glasses of iced tea.
“A romantic spot calls for a romantic meal.” Ma’s forehead creased. “I had to make due with what I had in my apartment.”
The plates went down in front of Major and Meredith. Tuna on wheat with a side of Cheetos and a Twinkie for dessert. He had to clear his throat a couple of times before he trusted himself to speak without bursting out laughing.
“Thanks, Ma. This is wonderful.”
“You two lovebirds enjoy this.” Ma started to leave with her friends, but Major caught her by the hand before she disappeared.
“Wait. I have something I need to say to you, something Meredith needs to hear me say.”
“But this is your romantic dinner, and I’m not supposed to be here.”
“It’ll just take a minute, Ma. Sit down, please.” He waited until she pulled over a chair from the other table and sat beside him.
“Ma, yesterday we talked about how much I love you and how sorry I am that I didn’t come home more from New York, remember.”
“Of course I remember. I’m not an idiot.”
No way was she going to get a rise out of him today. “Well, there’s more that I need to say. And that’s to ask your forgiveness, Ma. You see, all my life I’ve been embarrassed to tell anyone about you, to let them know what a wonderful mother I have.”
“Danny, I’d be embarrassed by me, too.” Ma stroked the side of his face with her dry, papery fingertips.
