“In a Bed of Roses,” Fiction by Kayla Hess

In a Bed of Roses

Fiction by Kayla Hess

It was a beautiful funeral. If I am even allowed to call a funeral “beautiful” in the first place. I was surrounded by people I barely even knew. I felt like I was a stranger in a sea of familial grief. I did not mind it though. I had already rode my own tidal wave of sadness a year ago. This time however, I felt like I was in control. Whatever being “in control” really means.

Still, it was painful for me to let go of this woman. She was more than just another old person slowly dying in a nursing home. More than just someone’s aging mother, grandmother for that matter. She was a person I grew to care for, and if I had not stopped to get to know her, then I would not have grown to care for her much at all. But I did.

Her daughter asked that I give a speech. What could I say to sum up this woman I had only known for several months? After everyone had filed into the church, I walked up to the podium with my wrinkled document in hand and pulled the microphone towards my lips. Unsettled eyes from the black clad crowd bore into me as they waited for me to say something, anything. Unable to wait any longer, I said, “Hi, my name is Kara Steiner. Dorinda Pryor was not your average friend for an eighteen-year-old like me...”

Several months ago, I thought that this was the last place I wanted to be as I sat hunched over on a toilet in the dingy bathroom of the local funeral home. I shifted from the extreme of wanting to sob to forcing myself to stay calm and collected. It was no use though since the calm had already cascaded out of me when I walked in the door. Nothing about this was calming, the air reeked of death and dying. I felt defeated and forced to deal with the reality of the situation, one which I couldn’t comprehend. Couldn’t accept. She’s dead, I’ll never see her again, never see her again while I’m still alive. How morbid is that? This was much easier the first time around. I was only a child when my grandpa passed. Being an adult now means I know more than I used to, innocence can only last so long. I might as well cry.

After retreating from the quiet sanctuary of the bathroom, I waded my way towards the casket through small groups of my family and family friends as they talked in hushed tones. The red and white roses draped across her casket paid homage to her name Rosalyn and her nickname “Rosie”. My grandma looked so

familiar as she rested in her final place. She wore her trademark polo shirt and black dress pants. Pink lipstick and slight blush. A small red bag of Doritos smuggled in beside her. They were her favorite.

As I gazed at my grandma in awe I was struck by a startling revelation, “She’s a mannequin. My grandma looks like a mannequin.” These words penetrated my mind. It was undeniable to me at this point that she was firmly gone. I know she would want me to be happy and to keep living my life to the fullest, but happiness was the furthest thing from me.

“Are you sure about this? You’ll be working in the same place that grandma lived. I’m just worried that it will remind you too much of her,” my mom told me anxiously.

“Yes, mom, this is something that I want to do. I know this is something she wanted me to do too. It’s been two months since she passed away, plus, I know you want me to have a job for the summer,” I reassuringly replied.

“It’s a good idea for you to make money, you know, to save up for college. I’m glad you’re going to work at The Grove, I think you’ll really like it. I know how much you like to help other people. Despite my worry, I know that grandma would be very proud of you. She always was.”

“Whenever I came to visit her, I told her that I was going to work at The Grove. I want to keep my word on that promise Mom,” I said with a smile.

“When do you start? Do you know where you’ll be working or what you’re going to do?”

“I begin on Monday. I’m not sure what I’ll be doing exactly, I guess I’ll know when I get there. ”

That following Monday, I pulled into The Grove’s parking lot and parked in one of the empty spaces. I walked into the entrance wearing my new uniform; a black t-shirt emblazoned with “I Love The Grove” and black pants. After getting my temperature checked at the kiosk, I sanitized my hands and put on one of the disposable masks. Before heading upstairs, I clocked in with my badge. Once upstairs I was met by one of the supervisors in charge of the food service.

“Hi Kara! It’s nice to meet you, thank you for deciding to work here at The Grove. You’ll get used to where everything is the more you work here, so ask questions if you are ever confused. Today, you’ll be down in Orchards; it’s on the ground floor. It is typically a floor for residents who are in rehabilitation, so unlike another wing here, the residents in Orchards typically come and go based on when

they recover. You can go into the dry pantry and grab one of those carts and take it with you to Orchards,” the supervisor instructed me carefully.

Fortunately, from coming to visit my grandma every weekend, I was able to locate where most things were in the building with relative ease, including Orchards. Once I arrived at Orchards, I was surprised to find the other person I was working with was someone I knew from high school.

“Hi Liz! You work here too?” I asked out of curiosity.

“Hey Kara! Yeah, I work here, I’ve worked here for a couple years. It’s great to see you again. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to see you too! I’ve got one of the carts from upstairs and the breakfast tickets for tomorrow.” I replied motioning to the cart.

“Great! You can just put them on the table over there and put the cart over by the kitchen door. I’ll show you what you need to do.”

While Liz dished out the food, I got the drinks for the orders and placed the trays of food on a metal cart nearby. Soon, the cart was filled and there was no more space.

“You can take those to the residents in the 40’s rooms. If you go outside the kitchen the 40’s rooms are to your left,” she told me, while pointing to the entrance of the kitchen.

“Okay,” I replied. I pushed the creaky cart out into the hallway and began to deliver the trays. The process went by quickly as I looked at the room number on each of their meal tickets and went to the corresponding rooms. Soon enough, I had delivered all the dinner trays to the 40’s and 50’s rooms. All I had left to do was deliver the last dinner tray to the final 60’s room, Dorinda Pryor. I knocked lightly on the wooden door.

“Who’s there?” the woman inside inquired.

“Hi, I’m here to bring you your dinner,” I said while bringing the tray into the room. When I entered, I saw a frail and skinny woman with dark and curly short hair sitting on a sofa near her television. She had wire-framed glasses and was wearing a light blue dress and sensible shoes.

“Hello, hun! You can just set it on my side table over here.” Dorinda said. I placed the tray down on the table and was about to walk out the door when she called out to me again.

“Excuse me, what is your name?” she asked.

“My name is Kara.” I stated.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kara. Thank you for bringing me my dinner,” Dorinda told me with a smile.

“You’re welcome, it’s no problem.” I said, returning her smile. As I was getting ready to go back to the kitchen, Dorinda spoke once more.

“If you aren’t too busy, I have some brownies and other snacks. I’m sure you get hungry on the job, and I’d be happy to share some with you.” she spoke pleasantly.

I was conflicted. I shot a quick glance at my watch at the time and bit my lip. I had to get back to work, and I wasn’t sure if I should stop to chat with this woman since there were dishes to be done. However, since she had asked so kindly, I decided to spend at least five minutes.

“Sure, I’d love a brownie, thank you,” I replied, taking a seat next to her on the sofa.

“Here you go,” Dorinda said, handing me a paper plate with a brownie on it along with a small bottle of water. It was deliciously fudgy with plenty of chocolate.

“This tastes great, thank you Mrs. Pryor. I like the middle pieces the best when it comes to brownies.”

“Me too!” she commented with a glint in her eye, “You’re welcome, but you can call me Dorinda. How long have you worked here for?”

“Today’s my first day. I started working here because my grandma used to be a resident here, but she passed two months ago unfortunately. I’ve always liked helping people though, so I just wanted to give back,” I explained.

“You’re doing a great job for it being your first day. I’m sorry to hear your grandma passed away. That must be hard. What was her name?”

“Rosalyn Hosbrook.”

“Rosalyn... hmm... that name sounds familiar. Oh my gosh, I remember now! I used to live on London Drive. We were neighbors. Her house was across the street from mine.”

“Really? That is incredible that you two knew each other. I had no idea; my grandma had never mentioned you before, at least not to me.”

“Rosie and I would go out to lunch or shop together while our husbands were at work. I remember that I would bring over my daughter to her house so that she could play with her two daughters and vice versa. We were good friends I recall,

and she was one of my favorite neighbors. One thing about Rosie was that she was kind, never mean.”

“Do you have any favorite memories from that time you two were neighbors?” I spoke intently, captivated by this sudden connection between this woman and my grandma.

“We’d celebrate holidays together throughout the year. On Halloween, Rosie would always offer to take my daughter out for trick or treating with her kids while I handed out candy to the children that came around the neighborhood. Before the kids would head out, we’d take pictures of them in their little costumes and give them goody bags packed with sweets.”

“It sounds like you enjoy being a mother. I bet you have photo albums packed with snapshots. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to see them just so I could get a glimpse into what my grandma looked like back then.”

“I do, I’ll definitely let you see them if you want to. It is different now that I’m older, but I will always be a mother. Gosh, I used to love handing out candy to the kids in the neighborhood on Halloween. They came up to my door with grins on their faces and without a care in the world. I always knew I wanted a child. Having one helped me to relive my childhood over again.”

“I don’t know if I can say the same, I’m not sure if I want kids. But I’m happy that you knew what you wanted. Do you have any other children besides your daughter?” I asked in return.

“Well, after I had my daughter, I eventually wanted to have another child”, Dorinda spoke with a slight exhale, “but my husband and I were racked with infertility complications. I was unable to conceive, and it was devastating. I felt like my body had betrayed me in a way.”

“That is terrible. I’m sorry that you had to go through that. I can’t imagine wanting something so badly, but it was physically impossible. Do you ever regret not being able to have more children now that you’re older?”

“In all honesty, Rosie’s children, your mom and aunt, became like the children I never had, in addition to my daughter of course. My husband and I would take all the girls on vacation if it was the summertime and on trips to the candy store or the mall in the neighborhood. Sure, it would have been nice to have another biological child, I mourned for a while, but Rosie’s family became my family too. They filled the place that I felt was empty and made my family whole again.” Dorinda recollected, smiling.

“I guess it is true that friends can be the family you choose.” I remarked.

“Yes, I suppose so, for me, it meant everything.”

I took another glance at my watch, and saw that five minutes had passed, I had to leave to get back to work, although I would have gladly stayed with Dorinda and talked with her the rest of the night.

“I’m sorry but, I have to get back to work. I have to go around and pick up the empty trays from people’s rooms and do the dishes. It was lovely meeting you though and being able to talk. I’m happy that my grandma was in your life. It makes me happy to hear about how she gave you joy.” I exclaimed, excusing myself.

“It was wonderful meeting you as well, Kara. Your grandma truly was a special person, one of my closest friends. Knowing Rosie, I’m sure you are fabulous like she was. Come back any time. I have plenty of brownies and treats. If you ever have any free time, feel free to come back and visit.” Dorinda spoke as I stood by her door.

“Have a good night, Dorinda.”

“You do too, hun.”

The more I got into my job, the more capable I became, and soon I understood all the nooks and crannies of The Grove. Working there helped me to come to terms with my grandma’s passing, in a strange way, I felt comfortable being in the place where she had died. Being able to give back through service gave me a new sense of purpose. Whenever I saw light come through the windows, I knew that she was watching me with pride.

Although I didn’t get to work in Orchards for every shift, I kept visiting Dorinda. I’d go see her after a shift, or if I had a day off from work. Visiting Dorinda allowed me to learn more about my grandma when she was younger and gain a new friend in the process. When I’d come to visit, she would give me a snack and a drink, I’d take a seat on her sofa, and we’d catch up.

“What have you been up to lately, Kara?” Dorinda asked, handing me some chips. It was one of my days off, and I was visiting.

“I’ve been doing a lot of running this summer. I have to stay in shape because I start cross country season again in the fall.”

“It’s great that you run every day. I never played sports when I was your age, for women back then there weren’t as many opportunities as there are now. But I’m sure I would have liked it.”

“I like being able to run in college. It feels great to be a part of a team and achieving personal goals. Do you have any favorite hobbies?”

“Well, I do like to crochet. My mother taught me when I was young, and I kept practicing. At your age, I made business out of it. I used to make scarves, blankets, hats, animals, in all kinds of colors and sell them. My neighbors would come to my house and buy what I had at my stand, and I’d make some money.”

“Crochet was one of those art forms I just couldn’t do. You must have a lot of talent. You should have seen it, one time we were making crochet blankets for a volunteer project at school. I guarantee that no one would have wanted mine.”

“You’re being silly!” Dorinda waved off while laughing, “I don’t know about talent; it takes a lot of hard work to be able to make things. I still crochet for myself, and I make stuff for my grandchildren too. I’d say that it is one of my greatest joys, it makes me feel useful even as an 80 something year old.”

“That’s wonderful. I bet they just love getting what you make as a Christmas or birthday present. I don’t think you should worry about being useful though, becoming friends with you has been one of the best parts of working here,” I added

Dorinda looked away for a moment as if absorbing my words, then she took my hands in hers. They were pale and warm, years of living etched into the lines of her palms. “You don’t know how much that means to me, thank you. You are a beautiful and sweet young woman, never forget that. Having you as my friend is the best part of my day.”

“Thanks Dorinda.” I said, squeezing her hands in return. Afterward, I took a sip of water and looked around her room. Except for some picture frames of family and friends, the walls of her room were bare. For a woman with such positivity, this seemed out of place.

Dorinda took a sip of her water and then spoke. “You know, I do wish I had more things to hang on my walls. Something more colorful for sure, I do get tired of looking at the same four walls every day. I’d like something new to change it up.”

“I think I can help you with that.” I suggested, an idea had popped into my mind.

I had just clocked out from my shift and was heading to my car. Carefully, I picked up and carried a piece of paper in a manila envelope from the back of my trunk into the building. She’s going to be thrilled, I thought in anticipation, as I made my way to her door. I was about to enter her door when I heard Dorinda’s

voice coming from inside. It sounded stern. I held back and stood outside the door, eavesdropping on the conversation.

“You never come to visit me. You don’t Delilah, I know you don’t!” Dorinda snapped into her phone. It was quiet for a few minutes before she angrily lashed out again. “I never get to see my grandchildren either, they don’t show up. No one ever comes to visit me and I’m sick of it!”

The last noise I heard was a loud slam of the phone back into its cradle. I stood breathless outside her door, slightly fearful. I was stunned, from all I’ve heard before, Dorinda loved her only daughter, so why was she so furious at her? She had raved in the past about her caring and doting family and how they visited her often. None of it made sense. I considered leaving, but I changed my mind when I thought of how Dorinda might perk up if she saw my surprise.

I hesitantly walked into her room, unsure of what I’d find. “Hi Dorinda, it’s Kara. I’m here to see you. If it’s not a good time, I can come back another day.”

“No, it’s no problem. Come in and sit with me.” Dorinda called out; she sounded weak, like her energy was depleted. Once I saw her, I knew something was wrong. She was slightly hunched over, and her face was flushed from tears. I quickly took a place beside her and grabbed a box of tissues. I handed her a couple and she took them gratefully and wiped her red eyes.

“I appreciate you being here, your friendship is important to me as you know, especially when I get in the middle of phone calls like that,” Dorinda spoke quietly while playing with the tissues in her hands.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why were you so angry at your daughter? Last week, I remembered you told me how Delilah had brought you a bouquet of tulips and took you out to lunch. Don’t you remember?” I asked.

Dorinda was silent for a few moments, her head bowed as if she was in deep thought and her hands were tightly clenched around the tissues. Whatever she was searching for, it didn’t seem to appear, and she looked at me with a confused gaze.

“I... I’m not sure. I don’t remember that at all. I do have a bouquet of tulips though, but I don’t know where they came from. I’m angry at Delilah because she never comes to visit me, and neither do my grandchildren, you think they’d know better, being grown adults. I raised them right; they should want to visit me, you know? So, why don’t they show up?”

I was stunned, none of what Dorinda was saying made any sense. Delilah had shown up earlier this week to visit her, and so did her grandchildren, they took her

to the zoo to see the animals. Dorinda had gushed all about it to her, went on and on about how majestic the lions were. Had she suffered a fall and was having memory loss?

“I’m so lonely, Kara, and so bored. I can stare at the television for hours and I start to feel like my only friends are the people I see on the screen. It feels like the walls are closing in on me and that I’m trapped in a cage. It sickens me, it really sickens me...” Dorinda muttered, growing slightly hysterical. She squeezed the life out of the tissues in her hands until they were crumpled bits.

I, growing increasingly frightened over Dorinda’s agitated state, reached out one of my hands and placed it on top of hers to soothe her. She stopped crying when I grasped her hand.

“Dorinda, I’m not sure what’s going on, but I want you to know that I’m here for you and that I’m not going anywhere. Okay? You are not alone, whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it, don’t be afraid to ask.” I instructed her calmly, keeping my voice steady and rational.

Dorinda loosened her tight grasp on the tissues and finally gave me a sincere smile.

“Oh, I know you’ll always be here for me, honey. One of the brightest spots of my day is being able to see you.” she said sweetly.