Page 7 of The Christmas Keepsake
“Well, I was wrong to suggest you were stupid,” Amanda said. “Hopefully, I’m wrong about Buster too.”
Chapter Three
The show must go on.
—Circuses in the 1800s
—Theaters throughout the 1900s to the present
—And Nannette “Nan” Wilder
Mallory pushed through the front door of Memory Oaks Nursing Care.
“Long time no see, Mal!” Francis Hemby called out from behind the front desk.
This was always how Francis greeted Mallory when Mallory stayed away for more than twenty-four hours. It was some sort of guilt trip that Mallory suspected Francis gave all the visitors when they’d gone without seeing their loved ones for too long. “Work has been busy,” Mallory said.
Francis nodded. “Everyone’s lives are busy, aren’t they?”
Mallory cleared her throat. Maybe other families used that as an excuse, but Mallory was busy because of Nan. All the extra hours were to keep Nan here. “How’s Nan today?” she asked, changing the subject.
Francis’s facial expression shifted. “Bright-eyed as usual. And her day is always better when she gets a visit from her favorite person.”
“Well, it depends on the day if I’m Nan’s favorite person or not.” And it depended on whether Nan remembered who Mallory even was.
Francis rolled her lips together, her expression sheepish from behind her thick-framed glasses. “Of course, you’re Nan’s favorite visitor. I just meant her favoritenonfamily member.”
“Oh.” Mallory realized that Francis wasn’t even referring to her. “Nan has another visitor?”
“Mm-hmm. Hollis is here with Duke. You know the folks here just love him and that dog,” Francis gushed.
Hollis had done what few ever achieved—changed his reputation in a small town. Small town reputations were like granite headstones. Once they were planted in the ground, they stayed put. But somehow Hollis had gone from the rebellious bad boy that no parent wanted their daughters to even look at, to the big, lovable, burly teddy bear that every woman over the age of sixty pushed their single loved ones on. Even Mallory’s paternal grandpa, Charlie, had made a bid for Mallory and Hollis to go out a few times.
She and Hollis were just friends though, and she was happy with that. Once upon a time, she’d been one of those people who’d despised him but with good reason. It wasn’t easy to like the guy who’d shown up to Mallory’s first starring moment at the Bloom Community Theater drunk as a skunk. Hollis was supposed to be starring alongside her, which was Nan’s first mistake because, back then, Hollis wasn’t the stand-up, trustworthy guy he was now.
He hadn’t shown on opening night, which meant the understudy had taken his place. And if that wasn’t bad enough, as Mallory made her first appearance onstage, Hollis burst into the audience, swaying on his feet and booing her. He’d made people laugh, and he’d made Mallory cry, which wasn’t an easy thing to do. Mallory could count on one hand the number of times she’d cried in front of someone, at least since being a kid. One of those times was the evening she’d watched her mother leave her daughters’ luggage in theirgrandparents’ living room. Then she’d hugged Mallory, kissed her temple, and said she was sorry.
“Funny thing is, Nan didn’t even like dogs before,” Mallory told Francis. No explanation was needed for the wordbeforeat Memory Oaks. Before memories faded for the residents here, leaving behind a fog of confusion and upset. Before Alzheimer’s hit like a storm destroying everything in its path for the person affected and their loved ones.
“All I know is there is a special place in heaven for people like Hollis Franklin, volunteering his time and talent for the folks here,” Francis went on. “Half the time our residents’ own family doesn’t come regularly, but that man is like clockwork every Friday night. I wish I could say the same of my own husband,” Francis said. “There’s nothing regular about him.” The corners of the older woman’s mouth quirked in a subtle frown.
TMI, Francis.“Interesting.” Mallory cleared her throat. “Well, hopefully Hollis is done visiting Nan. I don’t have long to stay.”
“I thought you were off-shift for the night,” Francis said.
“I am, but I have some work to do at the theater.”
“Before the big Christmas production?” Francis’s eyes lit up as she brought her hands together at her chest. “Oh, the play is always my favorite part of the holidays.”
Mallory’s stomach tightened. “That’s right.”
“Your grandmother would be so proud of you and Maddie. Some part of me worried you’d both be too busy to put on the community play.”
“It’s just me, actually,” Mallory told Francis. “Maddie is pursuing new things these days.”
“I’m happy for her,” Francis said with a nod. Then she looked at Mallory. “You have a busy life too, but look at you. You’re a good granddaughter,” Francis said. “Even if you missed the Thanksgiving dinner here the other night.”
Mallory’s lips parted, and no words came out.
