Reserved for You by Brenda Margriet

Author:Brenda Margriet
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: dementia, reality television, Vancouver, television production, alzheimer's, British Columbia
Publisher: Brenda Margriet Clotildes
Published: 2019-04-16T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Thanks for coming, Jemma.” Grace walked with her and Paul to the front door.

Jemma managed a smile. “No problem.” She forced herself not to rush down the path. Paul called goodbye to his sister and followed. Jemma swung her driver’s door open. He caught and held it.

“I have to get home,” she said flatly, one foot inside the car.

“You’re thirty seconds away. Tell me what’s wrong.” A streetlight illuminated Paul’s dark hair with silvery highlights, but his face was in shadow.

“Nothing.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t bring you here to upset you.”

Jemma saw movement behind the gauzy curtains.A light switched on. “Why?”

“Why did I invite you? Or why do I come here?” Before she could reply he continued. “I asked Benedict if I could take the meals. They were going to get thrown out, otherwise. I considered a homeless shelter, but as the weeks go by there will be less and less to share, so that didn’t make sense. My sister is always looking for ways to keep her residents entertained, involved. So I figured they could do their own taste testing.”

“I see.”

He moved forward. Jemma held her ground. The warm night air brushed her cheek, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his body, so close, yet not touching.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” The rumble of his voice shuddered through her.

“It’s just...I know...someone.” She closed her eyes to block out the sympathy in his. “That woman, in the wheelchair. I can’t bear to think of what she was like. Before.”

“You know someone with dementia?”

Warm fingertips grazed across her forehead, down her temple, behind her ear, tucked her hair back. She opened her eyes and nodded. “My grandmother.”

“I’m sorry.”

Placing a hand flat on his chest she gave him a gentle shove. He resisted and for a moment the warmth of his skin seeped into her palm through the crisp cotton of his shirt before he gave way. “It’s going to be fine.” She straightened her spine. “We’ll be fine.”

“There is help out there. I’ll ask my sister to get you some pamphlets.”

“Pamphlets won’t do any good.” Jemma swallowed, but couldn’t dislodge the hard ball in her throat. “We’re okay. We’re handling it.”

“It’s not weak to accept help.” Paul’s voice was soft with compassion. Jemma hardened herself against the need to lean into it, lean into him.

“She’s not that bad. She’s still herself most of the time.” Paul opened his mouth and she forestalled him. “I know. It’s going to get worse. But not yet.” Her words echoed down the silent street. “Not yet.” She breathed deeply. “I have to go.” She slid into her car and offered her customary prayer of thanks when it roared into life. “See you tomorrow.” She yanked the door shut and drove away.

Miriam was playing cards with Shannon Ferguson when she returned home.

“Look at you two,” Jemma said with a smile. “Having a good time?”

“Shhh,” Miriam said. “I’m going to win. Fifteen-two, fifteen-four and a double run of eight is twelve.” She plugged her peg triumphantly into the final hole.

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