Page 25 of Whatever You Need

“Hello, Sophia,”I greeted my eighty-year-old friend who was resting comfortably in her recliner.

Her little one-bedroom apartment was across the courtyard from the memory care building where my grandmother was living out the rest of her life. We met one day when I was wandering the grounds. Sofia walked over and sat next to me on the bench and offered me an orange Tic Tac. We ended up talking for hours and she ended up being a great distraction. We discussed everything from her obsession of Frank Sinatra to her current frustration with the Philadelphia Eagles quarterback. Sophia was a hoot and a breath of fresh air. I made a habit of stopping by every Sunday morning after my weekly visit with my grandmother.

“It’s about time you got here. Sit down,caro.” She pointed to the chair next to her by the window. “I just woke up from my nap. How’s your nonna?”

I glanced outside where there was a dusting of snow sitting along the top of the Welcome to Tranquility Farms sign. I wish my grandmother could live in the independent living complex like Sophia instead of needing around-the-clock care in the other building.

I threw myself into the recliner. “Alzheimer’s sucks.”

“Not a good day, huh?” she asked, setting her teacup onto the saucer. I noticed that her breakfast looked untouched. Sophia always complained about the food and I’ve come to realize that unless she made it herself from scratch, nothing would ever please her. The chef never used enough salt, the bread was always soggy, and the sauce never had enough garlic. She was so damn stubborn that she barely touched what was served.

“She became too agitated and didn’t recognize me, so I cut my visit short.”

My grandmother’s condition was getting worse, and it was painful watching her get lost inside her own head. As much as I didn’t want to lose her, I didn’t want her to stay on this planet like this either.

She reached her freckled hand out along the little round table that separated our two chairs and patted my leg. “I’m sorry, honey. That’s a pretty tough thing to watch happen to someone you love.”

“Thank you,” I said, fighting the urge to cry. We sat in silence for a few minutes before I switched conversation topics. “What are you watching?”

“I didn’t get a chance to watchThe Young and the Restlessyesterday, so Kristina recorded it for me,” she said, pointing to the weekend nurse who was in the other room going through her prescription bottles.

“I didn’t realize those soap operas were still on the air. I thought they got rid of all the daytime programs,” I teased her playfully.

Sophia had an obsession with drama. Although I didn’t watch them myself, I loved hearing about all the ridiculous plots and storylines that played out every day.

She pointed her long bony finger at me. “Don’t you even start, young lady. You know if I don’t get my Victor Newman fix a couple times a week, I get grumpy.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “So, what’s the latest gossip going on around here?”

She pushed back in her recliner and started to fill me in on how George from the second floor got kicked out of his unit, because his wife Helen caught him down in the laundry room with another female resident when he was supposed to be at the barber shop getting a haircut.

Her eyes sparkled, Sophia lived to air everyone’s dirty laundry and she wasn’t a fan of Helen’s. “Apparently, they were sneaking in these visits a couple times a week. I didn’t think old George had it in him.”

“Oh my God.” I laughed while holding onto my stomach.

We spent the next few minutes watching her soap opera as she caught me up to speed on the current storylines. Who knew that baby switching and coming back from the dead three times could be so entertaining?

While Kristina was getting Sophia’s order ready for the pharmacy, I stood up to check her fridge. She was so tiny and I could never tell if she was eating or not. I wanted to make sure she had what she needed.

A tap at the door drew my attention, it slowly opened, and I inhaled a sharp breath at the tall figured hovering in the doorway.

“Marco,” I said, feeling my mouth hang open. It was taking my brain way too long to catch up with what the hell was happening. It had been exactly one week since I left him in that hotel room. Surely this had to be some kind of joke.

“Amelia?” he said, palming the wood along the doorframe as I waited on bated breath for the shock to fade.

“What are you doing here?” I stammered as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

It was ridiculous how good he looked in a simple pair of jeans; and don’t even get me started on that sliver of skin that peeked out from the open top of his collared shirt.

His eyes darted around the room before he pulled his brows together. “I was going to ask you the same question.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” We turned to Sophia, who was watching us with a mixture of curiosity and delight. “Tell me, how do you know my grandson, Amelia?”

“Um…” I took a calming breath and looked to Marco for help. I tried to find a resemblance or a few similarities between the two. Sophia had talked about her “single” grandson many times, dropping hints here and there like little breadcrumbs. Maybe if she would have mentioned his name, I would have been able to put two and two together.

He carried a plastic Macy’s bag over to the counter and took out a small, round Tupperware container. “I met Amelia while I was on the job. She needed help, and I was happy to provide it.” He winked at me, the cheeky bastard. He clearly didn’t give a shit that he was embarrassing me. “How are you feeling, Nonna?” He strolled over and kissed her on the cheek while I took a deep breath, hoping to calm my racing heart. Funny, how I was chilly just a few minutes ago and now my body felt like it was overheating.

Sophia picked up the remote to pause her show. Apparently, what was going on in this room was more interesting than her soap opera. “What kind of help would that be?”

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