"Well, I guess it is. Always glad to have you Miss Leah. And who's this handsome gentleman you have with you today? You didn't have to bring me a present, you know?" she said with a wink.
Leah laughed and introduced me to the rather randy secretary. "Alice, this is my boyfriend, Declan. He was curious why I kept disappearing every Wednesday afternoon, and when I told him this is where I went, he had to see for himself." She took a sideways glance toward me and smiled, clearly remembering our conversation from earlier that week.
"You volunteer at an old folks' home?" I'd asked.
"Yep. And they really hate when you call it that."
"But last week, didn't you say you volunteered at an after-school program?"
"Yeah, I do that occasionally, too." She'd just shrugged.
And that was when I'd told her I had to see it to be sure. How could one person do that much? I could count the number of volunteer hours I'd given in my life on one hand. What was her motivation? I had to see her in action, see this other side of the woman who had captured my heart.
And so, a few days later, we were here, about to spend the afternoon with the elderly. I suddenly regretted that decision when we signed in and took a left down the hall into the dining room where I saw the residents for the first time.
What the hell was I supposed to do? What would we talk about? I didn't have anything in common with an eighty-year-old. As if sensing my anxiety, Leah squeezed my hand, gave me a reassuring smile, and pulled me into the dining room.
"Want to grab a piece of pie? They make amazing pie," she said.
"Sure." Pie sounded safe. I'd do anything to delay the awkwardness.
I should have chosen a different activity for the afternoon. My grandparents had died when I was young, and since then, I hadn't had any contact with anyone older than my parents. Would she be disappointed if I sucked at this?
We grabbed our pie, coconut for her and lemon meringue for me, and then we took our seats next to a couple at a round table near the center of the room. Leah had explained this retirement home had all levels of residents. Some were highly functioning and had come here because they simply hadn't wanted to live on their own anymore. Others required constant supervision. Leah's volunteer duties were simple. She was there to be a friend.
The couple we sat next to recognized Leah in an instant, and they greeted us warmly. They appeared to be part of the higher-functioning group Leah had described. They were both well-dressed and presentable. The woman looked like she'd thrown her entire jewelry box on. She was wearing several gold necklaces around her neck, four or five clunky bracelets, and a ring on every perfectly polished finger.
"Hello, darling!" the woman said. "How are you?"
"Good, Millie. How have you been this last week?"
"Can't complain. Still breathing," she said with a wink. "Now, who's this? You've never brought a friend with you...and such a handsome one, Leah!"
Her husband let out a huff, and Millie placated him by placing a hand on his shoulder and giving him a loving smile. He looked a little worse for the wear than she did. He was thinner, his expensive clothes hanging a bit on his frail body, and his skin appeared to be a few shades paler than it should be. When his eyes locked with hers, he smiled, and it was like the whole world disappeared.
I turned away, feeling like I was intruding on a very intimate moment.
Leah smiled as she turned away briefly, too. When she looked back toward them, she said, "This is my boyfriend, Declan. Declan, these two lovely people are Millie and William Taylor. They've been residents here for almost a year."
"It's lovely to meet you, Declan. You look very familiar," Millie said, looking at me a bit closer.
"I just have one of those faces, I guess," I said with a shrug, giving Leah a knowing smile. I wasn't about to out myself in an old folks' home.
We talked over pie, and I found it easier than I'd thought to speak with them. They were just people, and I could understand why Leah would come here. They were kind and loving. They treated Leah like a friend rather than someone coming in to check on them, and Leah did the same to them. She honestly enjoyed returning every week, visiting with the residents and learning about the different paths their lives had taken them on.
In our conversations, I learned William, or Willie as he liked to be called —it took me a minute to get over the fact that they were Mille and Willie —had been diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. I noticed the small shaking in his hand as he brought the fork to his mouth and when he tried to hold his coffee cup.
"When we found out, we had many options. We could have had a live-in nurse, but I didn't like the idea of having someone in our space all the time. The doctors said I could have moved Willie to a facility and stayed in the house by myself." She gave her husband a meaningful look. "But I knew that would never be an option. I couldn't leave him. So, we decided to sell our house and make the move together." She gave her husband a small smile as she held his hand. "No matter what life might throw at us, we're in it together until the end."
"Always," Willie said, his voice shaking. He carefully brought his wife's hand to his lips.
I looked at Leah, and at that moment, I knew I needed to figure out a way to close the gap between our homes because I would not lose her over something like distance. I would not lose her, period.
~Leah~
"You're amazing. You know that, right?" Declan said as we made our way to the car.
We'd had an enjoyable afternoon with the Taylors. We'd spent a few hours with them, eating pie and then taking a short walk through the halls since it was too cold to do so outdoors. Eventually, we'd said our good-byes, and Millie had made me promise to bring Declan next week. He'd happily agreed.
"Why? Because I hang out with old people once a week? That hardly makes me amazing," I scoffed.
"It's more than that. You do so much, and you don't even see it. You are constantly taking care of others and putting the needs of everyone around you first, and that makes you amazing."
"I don't do it to be amazing. I just do it because that's who I am," I argued.
"I know," he said softly, stopping as we reached the car.
He turned and wrapped his hand around my waist, curling his fingers in the belt loops of my coat, as he pulled me close. I could see his breath flowing out of his mouth, the signs of winter evident all around us.
"That's what makes you amazing."
"I think you're starting to abuse the word amazing." I laughed.