The Sweetness of Forgetting (65)

“Are you okay?” I ask. “You must be exhausted.”

He nods. “I just need to see Rose.”

Annie launches into a rapid-fire series of questions—“When did you last see Mamie?” “How come you thought she died?” “How did you escape those Nazis?” “What happened to your parents?”—which Alain answers patiently. As Annie bends her head toward his and continues to babble excitedly, I smile.

After a moment, Gavin returns and puts a hand on my arm, and as he does, a strange jolt of something shoots through me. I pull away quickly, like I’ve been burned.

Gavin frowns and clears his throat. “I talked to Krista. The nurse. She says she can sneak us back. But only for a few minutes. They’re pretty strict about visiting hours here.”

I nod. “Thank you,” I say. Oddly, I can’t bring myself to thank Krista as she leads the four of us down a narrow hallway, her blonde ponytail bobbing perkily behind her as her narrow hips swish back and forth exaggeratedly. I could swear she’s walking that way for Gavin’s benefit, but he doesn’t seem to notice; he has a hand on Alain’s shoulder and is guiding the older man gently toward a doorway at the end of the hall.

“Five minutes,” Krista whispers as we stop in front of the last door on the right. “Or I’ll get in trouble.”

“Thank you so much,” Gavin says. “I owe you.”

“You can take me out to dinner sometime?” Krista says. The end of the statement rises like a question, and as she bats her eyes at him, she reminds me of a cartoon character. I don’t wait to hear his reply; I tell myself it’s not important. I follow Annie and Alain into the room, and I gasp at the sight of the still figure lying in the hospital bed, seemingly swallowed by a mound of sheets.

Mamie looks tiny, pale, and shrunken, and beside me, I can feel Alain flinch. I want to tell him that the last time I saw her, she didn’t look like this. In fact, I hardly recognize her without her signature burgundy lipstick and kohl eyeliner. But I’m as dumbstruck as he is. We both approach, Annie trailing behind us.

“She looks real bad, doesn’t she?” Annie murmurs. I turn and put my arm around her, and she doesn’t pull away. I put my right hand on top of Mamie’s left hand, which feels cold. She doesn’t move.

“They apparently found her slumped over her desk when she didn’t come down for dinner,” Gavin says softly. I turn and see him standing in the doorway. “They called 911 right away,” he adds.

I nod, too choked up to speak. Beside me, I can feel Annie trembling a little, and I look down to see her blinking back tears. I pull her closer and she wraps both arms around me for a hug. We watch as Alain approaches the bed and kneels down so that his face is even with Mamie’s. He murmurs something to her, and then he reaches out and strokes her face gently. Tears are glistening in his eyes.

“I thought I would never see her again,” he whispers. “It has been nearly seventy years.”

“Is she gonna be okay?” Annie asks Alain. She’s staring at him as if his answer determines everything.

Alain hesitates and nods. “Annie, I do not know. But I can’t believe that God would reunite us, only to take her away without a good-bye. I have to believe there’s a reason in all this.”

Annie nods vigorously. “Me too.”

Before we can say anything more, the perky nurse reappears at the doorway. “Time’s up,” she says. “My supervisor is on her way.”

Gavin and I exchange looks. “Okay,” Gavin says. “Thanks, Krista. We’ll get out of here.” He nods at me, and I slowly lead Annie away from Mamie. I glance back over my shoulder as I near the door, and I see Alain with his head bent over Mamie’s again. He kisses her on the forehead, and when he turns, there are tears rolling down his face.

“I am sorry,” he says. “This is difficult.”

“I know,” I say. I reach for his hand, and together, Annie, Alain, and I walk out of the room, leaving Mamie behind in the darkness.



Gavin and I part at the doorway to the hospital. He has to work at seven the next morning, and I have to open the bakery. Life has to go on. Annie takes my keys from me, and she and Alain go wait in the car.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” I tell Gavin, looking down at my feet.

“I didn’t do anything,” he says. I look up in time to see him shrug. He smiles at me. “I’m really glad you found Alain.”

“I found him because of you,” I say softly. “And Annie was okay while I was gone because of you.”

He shrugs again. “Nah. I just did what anyone would do.” He pauses and adds, “Maybe this is out of line, but that ex-husband of yours is a real piece of work.”

I swallow hard. “Why do you say that?”

He shakes his head. “He barely seemed concerned about Annie, you know? She was so upset about your grandmother. She really needed someone.”

“And you were there for her,” I say. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Yeah, well, say you’ll spot me a cup of coffee on my way to the porch repair job I’m doing at Joe Sullivan’s place tomorrow,” he says. “And we’ll be even.”

I laugh at this. “Yeah, sure, a cup of coffee is definitely equal to taking care of my daughter and helping reunite my family.”