Past…
“SO, THERE’S NO WAY TO know how it ends yet. That’s why the book has a warning in the description. It’s a cliffhanger,” Katie explains as I stand at the door, resting my shoulder against the jamb and listening in on her conversation.
At first, Katie’s melodious voice only sounded familiar. Once I was sure it was her, I walked out of the room I’d been visiting and made my way over.
“A cliffhanger?” the old, wrinkled woman sitting in a rocking chair, her legs and feet covered in a heavy red throw, admonishes. “Child, what in the world is a cliffhanger?”
Katie’s back shakes. I can’t hear her laughing, but it’s confirmed when she says, “A cliffy is when the author hasn’t finished the story. It isn’t over.”
The old woman’s mouth gapes open and her eyes widen in horror as she looks outside the window they’re sitting in front of. “But the book we’ve been reading for weeks is done. There are no more pages left to read.”
Katie giggles her sweet, cute giggle then places her hand on the annoyed old woman’s knee. “Maggie, there’s going to be another book. It’s a series, remember? This just means we have to wait.”
Maggie’s lips get tight. She shakes her head tersely before advising the obvious, “Sweetheart, I’m ninety-two-years-old. How long do these cliffhangers last?”
Katie closes the book and sets it down on the floor at her feet. “I’ll check the library and see if book two is available now or not.”
The old woman sighs, turning her head, and holding her hands in her lap. When her gaze finds mine, I nod and remain standing just inside the door.
The old woman’s smile dies and she whispers, “Oh my.”
Katie turns around in her seat. Seeing me here as well, she smiles wide and says the same, “Oh my is right, Mags,” but she adds, “If it isn’t Mason Cole.”
“Mason Cole,” the old lady repeats. “Well, don’t just stand there looking all scary. Come in. Katherine was just explaining to me—”
“Cliffhangers,” I finish. “I heard.”
“Who might you be, other than Mason Cole?” Maggie asks.
“Cole,” I reintroduce.
The elderly woman looks me up and down, sizing me up to determine if I’m worthy of Katie’s and her company. When she makes her decision, she points to the chair next to Katie’s.
“Sit, will you? Stay and entertain us.”
I walk toward the women but I stop just behind Katie. When I’m close, Katie cranes her neck to look up at me.
The last time I saw her, she was laying on a beach, wearing far less clothes than she should’ve been. Sun and sand or not.
By memory, I know this coming August Katie is turning eighteen.
“What are you doing here?” Katie asks, lifting her finger and pointing around the room.
“Maggie’s neighbor,” I mention first. “I know him.”
“Oh, so you know that bristly old coot,” Maggie hisses. “Maybe you can tell him he should keep his door shut.”
“Oh yeah?” I prod.
“Damn the man. He keeps his television on at all hours. He’s nearly deaf so the sound echoes off the walls.”
“Sorry to hear that,” I return on a smile.
Katie clears her throat, but I keep my attention to Maggie as I doubt she’s finished.
I’m right when she continues, “A girl needs her shut-eye. Hard to get that with those westerns popping off caps in asses all hours of the night.”
Katie sucks in her lips to keep from laughing. The mischievous twinkle in her eye is the same as I remember.
“Yeah,” I confirm with a half-smile. “I’ll have a word with the old coot.”
Satisfied with my response, she looks to Katie and smiles. “Well, you two probably have some catching up to do. I’ll call the nurse in for some help to nap.”
Katie turns back around in her seat before she stands. “I’ll run and get Carla to come in for you. And I’ll see you first thing on Sunday morning.”
“Honey.” Maggie smiles. “You’ve been here almost every day this week. Take some time off. Enjoy the nice early spring weather.”
“I’ll see you Sunday,” Katie assertively insists. “And with any luck we’ll find out if Johnny loves Casey enough to go find where she’s gone.”
“Johnny. The bastard,” Maggie utters, looking up at me.
“The jerk,” Katie chides, turning in place to do the same.
“My name isn’t Johnny,” I point out, deadpanned. “And I have no fuckin’ clue who Casey is.”
Maggie laughs, her belly shakes with each bout. “You two best get out of here before I get riled up again.”
Once Katie puts the book away, grabs her things, and readies to go, she bends to kiss Maggie’s cheek. Maggie smiles at the gesture and taps Katie’s hand.
“Be good, Mags. If you’re not, the staff will tell me all about it.”
“I’ll be good, Kates,” she returns. “And I’ll tell you the same.” Nodding to me, Maggie bids, “Nice to meet you, Cole. Stop on over anytime.”
“Will do,” I advise, grabbing Katie’s backpack, not giving her a chance to argue.
Silence holds our way out of the room. Katie walks two steps in front of me, so I get a view of her long legs that end with those fucking pink-flowered, yellow flip-flops.
“You workin’ here now?” I question and she turns.
Nodding with a smile she replies, “I am. I need the volunteer hours to help with college credits. But really, I don’t mind. It’s quiet here. The residents are nice, too.”
“What’re you doing here?” she questions accusingly, as she hits the down arrow by the elevator door. “Didn’t think a guy like you would have much interest in visiting the elderly.”
“I don’t,” I tell her honestly, handing over her bag. “I’m here with someone.”
Katie’s happy expression also reads curious, and if I’m not wrong, a little sad.
“You came to a nursing home with a girl?”
“Yep.”
“Seriously?”
“My friend’s grandfather—”
“The old coot,” she remembers.
“The one and only. Mallory’s grandpa loves westerns.”
Mallory and I aren’t together. We’re friends who hang out, and in the past friends who occasionally fucked. Right now she’s dating a guy named Brock, so we see less and less of each other. I’m fine with that. I only came today to give her a ride since her Mustang is in the shop.
“Well, it was good seeing you again,” she tells me, pushing the elevator button and waiting for the doors to open.
“You too.”
“Take care,” she calls, stepping inside. I hand her backpack to her and she tosses it over her shoulder. As she enters, I step back. When the doors start to close, Katie startles me when she jumps up and yells, “Keep Happy, Mason Cole!”
I smile, alone in a hallway of a retirement home, thinking how happy that little shit was to have stolen my line.