“We’re going back to your apartment at Bayview,” Wyatt said, his voice tender. “We had a nice lunch, took a drive to Wharton, and now we’re headed back to Salmon Bay.”
“Salmon Bay?” Joe asked. “But . . . why are we going there? We’ve always lived in Wharton. On Front Street. Sophie is waiting for me.”
“No, Pop,” Wyatt said. “You live in a nice place in Salmon Bay now. It’s real swanky. You’ll see when we get there.”
Confusion washed over the old man’s face. All at once, he wasn’t the impish flirt he had been all day. Tess’s heart broke a little bit to see it. Wyatt had warned her about the dementia. She hadn’t seen too much of it during their lunch. But now she knew what he had meant.
“Don’t worry, Pop,” Wyatt said. “We’ll get you home just fine.”
“Okay, son,” Joe said, turning his trusting eyes to Wyatt. Tess could see he was still confused, but, almost like a child, he trusted his grandson to get him home. Wherever that home might be.
When the conversation lulled, Joe nodded off.
Tess remembered how Eli used to do that, as an infant. He’d be gurgling and smiling one minute, drifting off to sleep the next. It wasn’t so different with elderly folks. It was almost as if, the nearer people are to the other side, whether they’ve just come into the world or are close to leaving it, the more sleep they need. And she wondered, too, if it was really sleep at all. If it wasn’t simply their way of touching what was behind the veil. Infants reaching back to where they had been. Seniors reaching forward to where they were soon going.
As she watched Joe, his head back, his mouth slightly open, a faint snore wafting through the car, Tess wondered what his spirit was doing. If he was talking with Sophie about dinner that night; if she was giving him a glimpse of where he might go, soon enough.
Back at the senior complex, Joe perked up. “Brrr!” he said as they walked into the building, a big smile on his face. Connie still sat at the front desk. “There she is!” Joe chirped. Tess was learning this was a favorite greeting. Maybe his way of compensating for not remembering their names.
“Welcome home, Mr. Wharton,” Connie said as Wyatt signed him in.
“Thank you!” he said. “I go by Joe. All of my friends call me Joe.”
She nodded. She’s heard that before, Tess thought.
They walked down the hallway, and Joe stopped at his door. So, he did remember. Wyatt fished the keys out of his pocket and unlocked it, ushering the old man inside.
Joe shrugged off his coat and hung it up neatly, placing his hat on the shelf above it.
“Pop, it’s been a good day,” Wyatt said, enveloping him in a hug and patting him on the back in the way men did.
“Yes,” Joe said. “Yes, it has.”
“Thank you for including me,” Tess said, hugging him. She hoped it would be the first of many visits with the old man.
With Joe settled in his armchair in front of the television, they said their goodbyes. As Tess looked back at him from the doorway, she saw his expression droop. He seemed impossibly tired, as though he felt every one of his ninety-plus years.
Walking down the hallway with Wyatt, she threaded her arm through his.
“What a wonderful man,” she said, her voice cracking. Tears were stinging at the backs of her eyes, and she didn’t fully understand why. “Thank you for today. It was a real treat.”
“No, thank you. Pop had a great time.”
“So did I,” Tess said.
“He was the mayor of Wharton for many years,” Wyatt said. “You probably didn’t know that. He was involved with city government all of his life. He was one of the first people to push for the zoning ordinances that keep Wharton the way it is now—no tall buildings, no chain stores or restaurants. Developers tried to come in many times, and he blocked them. Sometimes singlehandedly. So we’re the sleepy little tourist town with all of the charm. That’s because of him.”
Tess smiled. “Not only did his family found the town, he preserved it,” she said. “He had a lot of foresight.”
“He always has,” Wyatt said. “I’ve learned so much from him. Not just about the ways of the world, preserving our history, keeping this town’s magic alive, but he taught me how to not just live, but to live well.”
Wyatt’s eyes were welling up with tears. Tess could almost see the love he had for the old man, as if it were a tangible thing, floating in the air around them.