By Sandra J. Bouman
“Well, this looks plumb delicious,” Arlene Davis gushed over a plate of whole wheat waffles topped with blueberries—the same breakfast Vaughn had fixed her every day for the last seven years.
“Why, thank you, darlin’,” Vaughn Davis replied the same way he had every day for the last seven years. Arlene was in a good mood this morning. Vaughn leaned in to deliver a peck on her cheek. She smiled. But, was she smiling at her husband of sixty-four years or the nice man who made her waffles? Arlene had always been a wonderful actress, so it was hard to tell.
“Mmm, these sure are my favorite,” Arlene said, after stuffing a healthy forkful of waffles into her mouth. She had always been a messy eater, even before, and after sixty-four years and two sets of hearing aids, Vaughn didn’t even mind the chewing anymore. It meant she was here with him, and it meant she was happy. He wasn’t ready to eat breakfast alone. Ira from down the hall had warned him about the silence. He would never be ready for the silence.
“What’s on the agenda today, darlin’?” Vaughn asked. The large dry-erase calendar was new. So far, it seemed to be working. Or, at least, it wasn’t hurting. It hadn’t upset her yet, anyway.
“Tuesday, January, 24th, 2023,” Arlene read the bright red letters he had scrawled across the top that morning. The nurse had said knowing the date would help keep her grounded. Writing it down and looking at it would keep her in a routine. It would help. Somehow.
“Time sure does fly,” she mused.
“Yes, it does, Lenie, yes, it does.” Vaughn patted his wife on the hand. It was so small now, he had to tie a length of string around her wedding band to keep it in place. She would pick at it and ask what happened to her beautiful ring. He was running out of ways to answer.
“Quilting with the girls,” Arlene said, continuing to read the calendar out loud. “Well, that sounds fun.”
“Once you’re done with breakfast, we’ll head downstairs,” Vaughn said, feeling more like a cruise ship concierge than a life partner with every passing day. “How does that sound?”
“How does what sound?” Arlene asked, blinking her wide green eyes up at Vaughn. She took another bite of waffles, smacking her lips as she chewed.
“Quilting,” Vaughn replied, trying to hide his agitation as best he could, “after breakfast. How does that sound?”
“Quilting?” Arlene replied, wrinkling her nose. “Isn’t that for old ladies? My grandma is going to teach me how to quilt. She promised.”
Vaughn sighed. He had signed up for this, after all. In sickness and in health. Though, he had never thought it would be Arlene who would go first. He groaned as he hoisted himself up from his chair at the dinette. The new knee hadn’t been the fix he had hoped it would be. It seemed like something new was failing him every time he turned around. He was worse than that old fixer-upper Oldsmobile his father had given him for his sixteenth birthday. He did his best to keep the thing going for as long as he could, but it sat collecting dust in the garage for the better part decade. Finally, he sold it right before they moved. None of the kids wanted it. It barely even covered a month of rent in this place. Vaughn sighed again. He couldn’t worry about the money today.
Twenty minutes later, Vaughn led Arlene to the elevator at the end of the hall.
“Ooh, can I press the button?” Arlene asked, all innocence and wonder. Vaughn nodded and tried his best to smile. He was never sure whether to laugh or cry these days. It was unfair and ironic that the more it progressed, the younger she became. He was too old to take care of a child. He could barely take care of himself, let alone someone who was eighty-five going on eight.
“I love elevators!” Arlene cooed. “They make me feel so fancy.”
“I know, darlin’,” Vaughn replied. She told him every day.
The elevator bell chimed, and the doors opened. Arlene got on, as giddy as a school girl. Vaughn followed. Elevators. They were nice to have for achy joints, but they were yet another reminder that this was the beginning of the end. Fairview Acres sounded like heaven in the brochure their daughter, Elise, had shown them. In the end, it was just another institution. All the throw pillows in the world couldn’t make it feel like home. Arlene was his home, and his home was slipping away.
“Ground level, Lenie,” Vaughn told her. “The one with the star.” Arlene pressed the button and the doors closed. She clapped her hands together. At least she was cheerful today. The simple things brought her joy and not frustration. How easily that switch could flip.
Arlene passed the short elevator ride by admiring her reflection in the mirrored ceiling. Vaughn was glad she still had the facilities to get herself dressed and do her own hair and makeup. It wasn’t as fussy or glamorous as she used to do before, but she still looked well put together and still looked beautiful. Though, she could wear a potato sack and a purple wig, and she would still be the only one for him. He swallowed a lump in his throat and smiled gently at the reflection of his wife.
“Well, there you are!” Opal called out as Vaughn led Arlene into the first floor sitting room, where the Tuesday Quilting Club was gathered with their sewing kits. Opal was a vision in head to toe magenta. Vaughn tried not to stare.
“Come sit next to me, Arlene,” Lynette said softly, patting the empty chair in the circle beside her. “I saved you the best seat in the house.”
“Good morning, girls!” Arlene replied, beaming at her friends. Vaughn squinted at the situation. She most likely couldn’t remember their names, but she was happy enough to be there.
“I’ll leave you to it then, ladies,” he said, with another well-received kiss on the cheek.
“And, who are you, again?” Arlene asked him, but she couldn’t keep a straight face. Vaughn exhaled and shook his head. Today was a good day. Though, the day would soon come when she wouldn’t remember enough to be able to joke about what she had forgotten. Vaughn winked at her, and she returned the gesture.
“What about speed dating?” Aldo asked his fellow orderly, Talitha, as Vaughn walked past them in the lounge on his way to his weekly support group meeting.
“Nobody here has done anything speedily since 1992,” Talitha replied sarcastically, picking neon orange nail polish from her right thumbnail.
“A prom, then?” Aldo suggested, tapping a pen on a blank sheet in his notebook, looking somehow both bored and frustrated.
Talitha sucked air through her teeth, clearly not happy with her colleague’s idea.
“What are you two up to?” Vaughn asked, unable to keep himself from eavesdropping. At Fairview Acres, gossip was the currency of the realm.
“We’re trying to plan some Valentine’s Day activities for next month,” Talitha said, her whole face dripping in disgust as if someone had asked her to muck out horse stalls instead of entertain the elderly for an evening.
“You can see how well that’s going,” Aldo said, turning his blank page toward Vaughn.
“I have an idea,” Vaughn replied, twisting his ring around his finger, “though not for Valentine’s Day.”
“Lay it on us, Mr. D.,” Aldo said, readying his pen and paper.
“Well,” Vaughn told them, “mine and Arlene’s sixty-fifth anniversary is coming up in June, and I don’t know if we… I mean, I don’t know…she might…”
“Say no more, Mr. D.,” Aldo said, having an entire conversation with Talitha in a single glance. She nodded.
“We’ll take care of it,” Talitha said, sincerely.
“Thank you both,” Vaughn replied. Young people really surprised him sometimes. Always kept him on his toes, anyway. This time, he was thankful.
Four whole wheat waffle and blueberry breakfasts later, the calendar read: “Saturday, January 28th, 2023.”
“Get all dolled up?” Arlene asked, reading the day’s task out loud.
“You bet, darlin’,” Vaughn replied, with a twinkle in his eye. “We have a whole spa day planned for you. Massage, hair, makeup. The works.”
“What’s the occasion?” Arlene asked, folding her napkin on the table.
“Does a man need an occasion to dote on his wife?” Vaughn asked, feigning innocence.
“This one does,” Arlene replied, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.
“You’ll see,” Vaughn replied, patting her hand and kissing her cheek.
At five minutes to seven that evening, Vaughn stood by the entrance to the multi-purpose room, nervously holding a bouquet of yellow daisies—her favorite. His hands were shaking, and not just from his new medication. He hadn’t been that nervous to see his wife since their wedding day.
“Come here, hon,” Talitha said, reaching out to straighten Vaughn’s tie. He hadn’t worn a tie in years, not since before they had sold the house and moved to Fairview Acres. He’d had to dig in the very back of the closet. He was lucky his suit still fit. If nothing else, the food was good there, and his pants were a tad snug around the waist.
“Here she comes,” Aldo said, excitedly from his post just outside the door. “Quiet everybody.”
The other residents lowered their voices and did their best to crouch down out of the line of sight. Vaughn took his place behind the door, and Talitha turned off the lights.
“Here we are, Mrs. Davis,” said Marisol, none other than the director of the entire memory care center herself.
“You look ravishing, Mrs. D.,” Aldo said, and she did. Vaughn could see her through the glass in the door. Even in the harsh fluorescent light in the hallway, she looked stunning. Her silver hair was piled up in curls on top of her head, her blue dress made her skin glow, and her cheeks and lips were rosy. She absolutely took Vaughn’s breath away. She always had. Always would.
“What is this?” Arlene asked as Marisol stopped in front of the darkened multipurpose room. “What’s going on?” Vaughn strained to hear. Was she confused because it was a surprise, or because she didn’t know where she was? Maybe this had been a bad idea. The door creaked open slowly. It was too late to change his mind now.
Talitha switched on the light, and a chorus of residents shouted, “Surprise!”
“Oh, my word!” Arlene exclaimed, taking it all in. “What in the world?” The orderlies had gone all out, decorating the room to the nines with banners and streamers and white twinkling lights. It was like something out of a dream, but Vaughn only had eyes for one source of beauty that night.
“Happy anniversary, darlin’,” he said, offering the daisies to Arlene. She smiled sweetly and took the flowers. Vaughn couldn’t read her in the dim light. She smelled the bouquet, then handed it to Talitha. Arlene was quiet, but reached out both hands to her husband, who took them gently.
“Vaughn, dear,” she said finally.
“Yes, Lenie?” Vaugh asked.
“Our anniversary isn’t until June, you silly goose,” she told him, taking back her hands and playfully smacking him on the arm. “It’s June 27th. That’s weeks away.”
“You’re right,” he replied with a chuckle, as he sniffed away a tear.
“I can’t believe you forgot,” Arlene said, putting her hands back in his. He squeezed them, and she returned the gesture.
Vaughn pulled Arlene close, kissing her on the cheek. Arlene turned her head and kissed him gently on the lips. She smiled and leaned her head on Vaughn’s shoulder while they danced. They hadn’t even turned the music on yet, but Vaughn didn’t care.
“It won’t happen again, darlin’,” he whispered.