“Never thought I’d end up in a job like this,” she said, as if sensing what I was wondering.
I pointed to the card she held in her hand.
“If some copy editor positions open, I’ll let you know. We could always use a good proofreader.”
This appeared to bring a little bit of brightness to her day. My desire for progress equaled everyone else’s.
***
With one step in purgatory, I decided to make the full leap into hell.
Pacoima was another ten miles from the North Hollywood apartment. On the drive there, the flirting-with-triple-digits heat was consummated and never looked back. The change in temperature from the climate-controlled car to the blacktop surface of the parking lot at Sheila Lansing’s convalescent home involved a thirty-degree swing. The initial thrust was oddly pleasant, like the first moments of a hot shower. But then the oppressive nature of the heat enveloped me and for a brief instant, I thought I would collapse on the walk from my car to the front door of the home. The heat coming off the pavement somehow felt hotter than the one scorching the back of my neck.
The handle on the glass door was as hot as a pan left carelessly over an unattended burner. I scurried into the lobby and eagerly breathed in the antiseptic-scented air.
“It’s a hot one,” the front desk attendant chirped.
“My word,” I replied. “How do you handle it?”
“It’s a dry heat, so it’s not so bad.” Dry or not, that kind of heat was unbearable.
“I’d like to see Sheila Lansing.”
“Why, of course. Let me have someone show you there.” She picked up the phone and scanned the numbers. “The old girl is getting quite a treat today,” she said absently.
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“So many visitors in one day.”
The attendant put the phone down when she saw a young man in scrubs passing by. She asked him to escort me upstairs. I looked around and but didn’t see the attendant I was really interested in.
“Is the other attendant in?” I asked casually. “I forget her name but she’s Filipino, dark hair, wears it in a braid…” They didn’t seem to make the connection, “…a little heavy-set?”
The front desk attendant and my escort shared an awkward look.
“Tala? She’s not here today.”
“Do you expect her?”
“Hard to say, honestly.”
There was hesitancy in her voice. To me it sounded like she hadn’t been to work in a while and no one seemed to know why.
I was led upstairs to the second-floor balcony. A mister and fan system blew micro-droplets of water that provided instant relief when it touched your skin but tasted like rust when you breathed it in.
Sheila was in her normal spot, covered again in a blanket though this time with a light cotton fabric. She was the only resident out at that time.
“Ms. Lansing, the heat index is—” but the old woman cut off the attendant before he could finish his warning.
“If I like it, I like it,” she reasoned with a dismissive wave. “You’re back,” she said to me.
“Surprised to see me?”
“A little. Must be bad news,” she guessed. “What happened to her?”
“She hasn’t come home.”
“That’s not so bad.”
“And she’s a new mom.” I let those words sink in. She stared at me but didn’t give much up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“If you only recently found out yourself, then that means Carl didn’t tell you either. Did you ask him why he kept it a secret?”
“I did.”
“Did he give you an answer?”
“Nope.”
“But you want one from me. Okay, I will prove I am the better person. I like her and didn’t want to betray her confidence.”
“When’s the last time you spoke to her?”
“It’s been a while. Not since before you and I last met.”
“Have you tried to contact her?” I asked.
“Now that you tell me she has had the baby, I just might.”
“Do you happen to know where she is staying? Even if it’s just a town, that’d be helpful.”
“I don’t.”
Clearly she wasn’t in the frame of mind to give up much information. I asked her to let me know if she hears from Jeanette. And if she did talk to her, that she try to persuade the girl to return home. The old woman acknowledged the request but didn’t say outright whether she was going to agree to it.
“Whatever happened to that nurse, the angry one?”
“She hasn’t shown up for work this week. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious.”
I leaned back and looked down at the empty rows of glide chairs.
“Not a lot of visitors today,” I commented. “Must be the heat.”
“There aren’t many on any day,” said Sheila. “You’re my first visitor in a while,” she felt the need to add and instantly gave herself away.
We chatted about nothing for a few minutes longer, mostly about the heat, then I got up to excuse myself. A few feet from the door, I turned back.
“Just so you know,” I told her, “I’m not working for Carl anymore. He dismissed me over an indiscretion that I didn’t commit. He knew I didn’t do it but he fired me anyway. If I had to guess, this outcome was inevitable all along and if I was smart I would just go home and mind my own business.
“But I’m not smart and I’m not ready to quit. I’ve never met this kid, I don’t have anything at stake in it, but somehow I still feel responsible for bringing her home. Maybe her family is screwed up but most families are. It’s still better than being out there all alone.”
I made it no more than three steps towards the door.
“Sit back down, please,” she instructed. Once I was back in the chair, she admitted that she had seen Jeanette earlier that morning. I assumed she had but didn’t tell her so. “She has a handsome little baby.”
“So it’s a boy?”
“Yes, Carl has his heir,” she spat. “You know I am childless?”
“You mentioned it before.”
“But you don’t know why.” I told her I didn’t. “Let’s just say it wasn’t because of a lack of desire and it wasn’t because of a lack of ability.”
“So what other reason is there?”
“Fear,” she answered. “Fear of Carl.”
“You’re going to have to elaborate, Ms. Lansing, because if I am understanding you correctly that is a pretty big accusation.”
“I didn’t make an accusation, I just described a feeling I had,” she parsed as if in fear of a libel suit. “I was scared of what he could do. He is, as you may guess, prone to abusive behavior.”
“That’s still a broad term. What kind of abuse are you referring to?” I probed.
“Well, I never had a child,” she replied. “That should answer it for you. And that’s why I don’t think Jeanette should go back to that household.”
“But she lives with her mother,” I reminded her. “And could even stay with her dad if she wanted to.”
She smiled at me.
“I’ve heard about those two from Jeanette. They will do anything to stay on Carl’s good side. There’s too much money in it,” she said and despite the ugliness in her words there was a vein of truth in them.
This time she volunteered to let me know if and when she was in contact with Jeanette. I lingered, but she quickly picked up on my discomfort in the heat and offered to walk me to the door. Or, I walked her as she clung to my arm with brittle fingers.
“Not a day goes by that I don’t question that decision,” she mused. “They say when you have a child, all of your concerns are thrown out the window because you have just one concern now. Then again,” she reasoned, “everyone in this home was placed here by their children, except me. I had to come here on my own.” She paused to reflect on that decision. “I don’t know which situation is sadder.”
On my way out, I once again stopped by the front desk and spoke to the attendant. She was trying to find order to a pile of paperwork and it looked like the paper was getting the best of her.