“Good morning, Julie,” Winston said to the receptionist as he walked behind the welcome desk. He clocked in with a familiar thunk and grabbed his name tag.
“Hi, Winston,” she said. “Do you think today will be a good day?”
“We shall see.” He nodded and crossed his fingers in front of his chest. “It’s been three weeks, so here’s hoping.”
Winston walked past the desk to the end of the hallway and unlocked the door to the janitor’s closet. The familiar smells of bleach and pine greeted him. He always started by cleaning the visitors’ restrooms at Second Home Retirement Center. At 83, he was as old as many of the residents, but he was grateful to be working there and still living at home, even if alone.
After he finished the restrooms, Winston made his way to the breezeway between the commons building and the memory care wing. It was made entirely of glass, and the morning sun brightened the couches and chairs lining the length of the tiled floor. He had his broom and dustpan with him and began flicking dust out from the corners.
A woman sat alone on one of the overstuffed couches, gazing out at the flower garden beyond the glass. A rabbit nibbled on a clover in front of the garden, and the woman giggled as a robin landed on a yellow black-eyed Susan next to it and scared it away.
Winston smiled. “Robins are always causing trouble.”
“He seems to think so,” she agreed. “Beautiful morning.”
“It certainly is.” Winston paused, watching the bird with her until it flew away. “Have a good day.” He continued sweeping.
The woman didn’t reply but kept smiling as she looked out at the garden.
He was three-quarters of the way down the breezeway when he heard her voice behind him.
“Winston?”
He turned and felt his heart leap into his throat. He gave her his widest smile. “It’s me, Carolyn.”
“Come sit with me. Let’s watch the rabbits.” Carolyn patted the seat next to her, so he set down the broom and dustpan and sat beside her on the couch. He gave her a long, gentle hug, careful not to squeeze too hard. He could feel her ribs through her sweatshirt. She was losing more weight. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek.
Her hazel eyes sparkled at him like they always had, but confusion lingered in the lines of her face. “Where are we, Winston?”
He managed a slow, pained smile. “We’re at Second Home, downtown near the dry cleaner’s. Where Polly lived after she broke her hip.”
She stared hard at him, and recognition surfaced in her eyes. “I remember now,” she nodded. She paused. “Alzheimer’s.”
Winston could no longer hold back his tears. They clouded his vision. “Yes. I’m sorry, Carolyn.”
“For what?”
“For not being able to have you stay home longer. I… I couldn’t give you everything you needed.”
Carolyn put her head on his shoulder like she used to when they watched TV or when he read mystery novels to her in the park. She took his left hand in both of hers, and he wiped his eyes with his right. “We made the decision together. You did the best you could, and I just couldn’t get around the house anymore.”
Winston gave her another kiss. Even now, she was taking care of him. They sat in silence for a few minutes, and he wished they could stay there forever.
“Tell me about the kids,” Carolyn said, squeezing his hand. “Are they happy?”
“Yes, they are both very happy,” Winston said. He squeezed her hands in return. “Ben is a dad. He has two teenagers who keep him and Jill guessing all the time, but they are good kids. He’s an accountant, and she’s a teacher, like you. They’ve been married twenty-three years.”
“He told us he wanted to marry her after their first date,” Carolyn said with a smile.
“That’s right!” Winston laughed. “We told him not to get carried away, but we loved her from the start. Megan is married to Tom. Their daughter Carrie is studying to be a doctor.”
“They named her after me,” she said, pride lighting her face.
“Yes, they did.” He loved it when she had good days like this. It was why he had applied to work at the retirement home in the first place. Sometimes, when he visited her room, she did not recognize him and would become frightened. This way, he could see her every day without worrying her.
Even with the progression of her disease, she still liked to come to the garden each morning. The staff made sure she was ready by eight so Winston could find her here.
It had been three weeks since she last recognized him. Remembering seemed to make her happier too, so he took advantage of the moment. “What is your happiest memory with the kids?” he asked.
She turned back to the garden. The rabbit had returned, cautiously resuming its breakfast.
“Carolyn?” Winston’s heart skipped a beat with the fear she was already gone.
She looked at him again and smiled. “Our trip to Colorado. A storm hit halfway through a hike and soaked us to the bone. The kids wanted to turn back, but you promised them the view at the end would be worth it. And it was. The sun came out just as we reached the end of the trail, and we sat down next to that beautiful mountain lake. It looked like a mirror in the sunshine, and we ate sandwiches by the water. An elk walked right up next to us and took a drink, and I thought the kids’ eyes would pop out of their heads. Megan said it was the size of a school bus. They talked about that elk for months.”
Winston smiled. “Another family took our picture in front of the lake. It’s still hanging in the living room.”
“I can still see it,” Carolyn said faintly. “That hasn’t faded.”
That comment unsettled him. He shifted to a new subject. “Felix is as finicky as ever. He’ll eat the same food for two weeks, then force me to switch.”
“That naughty cat,” she laughed. “Even as a kitten, he had strong opinions.”
“Like all of us, I suppose,” Winston nodded. “I’ll keep him around.”
“Who?” Carolyn asked.
“Felix,” Winston said, looking at her.
“Felix who?” Confusion crept back across her face. Not yet! Winston pleaded silently.
“Our cat, Felix,” Winston explained. “He was all black with white on his face, just like the old cartoon.”
She hesitated. “I don’t remember him.” Her voice faded to a whisper.
The moment slipped.
Carolyn drew her hands back into her lap and leaned away. “You’re kind,” she said. “I think I know you.”
“It’s me. Winston.” He held her gaze, willing recognition to return. It didn’t. Her expression tightened into a frown.
He stood up and picked up his broom and dustpan. “I hope I didn’t bother you, ma’am. I was just sweeping the floor and stopped to say hello.”
“Could you walk me to breakfast?” she asked. “I’m hungry.”
“Of course,” Winston replied. Any time with her still mattered.
It wouldn’t be long until he was a complete stranger.