Page 144 of Chasing Headlines
Guess I hit a nerve.I sighed and shook my head.Never did get to suggest the dean should know. Too bad. I moved the opposite direction, toward the laundry room. The director had said they had a miracle cure for grass stains, and?—
“Margaret?” A rasping voice called out. I drew to a halt.
“Excuse me?”
“Margaret, honey, I’ve been looking everywhere.”
I turned back around. Mr. Demoral, one of our most spry memory care patients, had Milline cornered. “I, um, I’m glad you found me?” She said and took a step back. Her rear hit the door.
I glanced both directions down the hallway, looking for assistance. I wasn’t qualified to handle?—
Milline shrieked! I spun back in time to see Demoral grab her around the waist as he planted his lips over hers. She pushed and squirmed, and finally threw her head back to escape his kiss. “Breslin . . .” She whimpered. My brain clicked into gear about the same time as the rest of me.
I pried his hands off Milline and shoved her free. Positioning myself between her and Demoral, I took a slap to the face from the elderly man. Stars sparked in front of my eyes. The lights hazed into fuzzy globs. I blinked but stood my ground.
“That’s my wife!” He groused and spit. His face turned red as he hollered about Margaret, clearly lost in a memory. He swiped at me again. I dodged and moved behind him. I dug my hands under his shoulders, scooping the smaller man up and held him off the floor. He flailed. My head pounded. Haze drifted around the room for a second, sounds echoed strangely in my ears. I turned to cart him back toward his room.
I didn’t make it far before his caregivers ran in. Demoral howled. One of the nurses began speaking to him in a calm, neutral voice.
“I know you miss Margaret.”
He wailed and kicked. I held tight. A male orderly approached. “I can take this. You shouldn’t have to restrain?—”
“He assaulted a visitor.”
“Ah, shit. We’ll have to sedate him tonight.”
I didn't know how to let the guy go. He wasn't more than skin and bone, but he didn't hit like it.
“It’s not his usual behavior. He’s likely experiencing pain or fatigue.” The orderly touched Demoral's shoulder. “Hey, it's ok, sir. We can help.”
“He hurt Margaret. My Margaret.”
“You did all right, kid. If you put him down, I promise, I’ve got him.”
I grunted out a reply. The world wasn't as focused as it had been a few minutes ago.
“Can you check on the visitor?”
“The girl he grabbed?”
“Uh, yeah. Geez. We already paged the Director. But if you can calm her down . . .”
I set Demoral on his feet and took a step back. The elderly man turned, but found himself staring at the rather stout orderly. “I know it’s confusing. Tell us how we can help you.”
I huffed a relieved breath as I removed myself from the situation.Shouldn’t have let it happen.I griped at myself. I glanced one way, then the other.
I needed to find Liv. If the ashen color of her skin hadn't said enough, the way she cried out my name . . .
Dammit. You should have stopped it sooner.
I found her in Dotty’s room. The old lady was still asleep. Liv sat on the floor, curled into a ball. She hugged her shins and lay her head on her knees the same way she did that time in the maintenance closet.
I didn't have words or know anything at all . . . about what to do. Pretend girlfriend, real one, she managed to take charge even when everything around us seemed to be chaos. I was sorely lacking in . . . whatever life skill that was called. I sat beside her for a moment, in the quiet. I had no idea what to do for her. My head was pounding, and the room pulsed with it.
Her hand found mine. Her forehead pressed against my shoulder. I closed my eyes, held her hand, felt her tremble . . . listened to her breathe.
After a long moment, she lifted her head, but didn’t look at me.