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“Aunt Jane, I missed you!” She hugs Jane’s legs.
“Oh, sweetheart, I don’t deserve you!” Jane says, picking Anna up and walking with me towards the kitchen.
“Put on another plate, Mary. We have a visitor,” I announce, and she promptly tends to my request. “You can go now. We’ll do the dishes.”
Mary raises an eyebrow at me but ultimately decides to let it go, and just heads on out.
I turn to look at Anna. "Baby, will you go watch cartoons for a few moments while I talk to Jane? It won't take too long, and then we can eat, okay?"
She looks at us with curiosity then nods and runs off to the living room.
Jane's eyes are looking down at the floor. I sigh and pull out a chair at the dinner table. She moves to sit down and I go to sit next to her.
Not sure how to begin, I grit my teeth and say softly, "Have you ever thought about therapy?"
She jerks her head up fast and all I can think is "Oh no, here we go."
But when I see her face, her eyes are wide with surprise and there is a slight smile on her face.
I tilt my head and smile back at her, "What is it, Jane?"
She takes a deep breath then says, "I wasn't sure how to tell you. I was a bit embarrassed about it, but I remembered how you were in therapy before and how it helped you. I have been thinking a lot lately about how it would be nice to talk to someone about my feelings and anyway, I already got an appointment. I start seeing someone next week."
My eyes fill with tears as she speaks. "I think that's a great idea, Jane. Nice to know we are both on the same page for once, right?"
She lets out a small laugh and nods and I bring her in for a hug.
"Please keep me posted and let me know if I can help in any way. It was life changing for me, and I am proud of you for taking this step."
After our long hug, she wipes her eyes and says, "How about we have dinner now?"
I nod with a smile, my heart feeling less heavy, and call Anna back into the kitchen.
All of us at the table, I let Jane and Anna take control of the conversation, and just watch them quietly as we all eat.
But nearing the end of the food, the conversation turns to Mrs. Ritz, and my interest peaks the moment her name is mentioned.
“I haven’t seen her since the ball,” Jane says, casually. “How has she been doing?”
I then realize that I also haven’t seen her since then, and I suddenly feel like a terrible friend.
“I haven’t seen her in a while either. Let me call her,” I say, then head for the kitchen’s phone.
Dialing the numbers I’ve known by heart ever since I was a kid, the phone starts to ring, and a person who’s likely her caretaker picks up.
“Hello?” the young man says with kind manners.
“Hello, I’m Logan Bardin, a friend of Mrs. Ritz. Is she still awake?”
The caretaker stirs for a second, and I hear him call out her first name gently, “Gloria?”
He finally returns to the phone. “She’s here, Mr. Bardin. Wanna talk to her?”
I think for a second, then say, “I was actually wondering if we could drop by for a visit.”
The man consults with her again. I just hear in the background, “Come on over for once, Logan!” and I smile openly. I’m already feeling better and can’t wait to see her.
“You can come, Mr. Bardin,” he informs me. “Just don’t take too long.”
