Promises to Keep Nan Rossiter (books for 7th graders .txt) đ
- Author: Nan Rossiter
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While Ben and his crew worked on the restoration of the farmhouse, a different company was brought in to build the additionâa one-level square structure with a garden courtyard, the design of which had also been approved by the historic commission. It was accessible by a glass-enclosed crosswalk and had white clapboard siding and tall windows to match the farmhouse. Each cozy apartment had French doors that opened either into the garden courtyard or onto the expansive lawn.
Maeve hurried down the long corridor, which was often used by the residents for their daily constitutionals, and turned left. She continued to walk briskly, thinking about the residents on the porchâwaiting for their snackâand finally stopped in front of the last door on the right and knocked.
âCâmon in,â a voice drawled.
Maeve pushed open the door. âMr. Hawkins?â she called softly.
âYes, maâam,â the old man said, sitting up in his leather recliner.
Maeve looked around the room at the piles of boxes and frowned. âDo you need help unpacking?â
âOh, no,â he replied, waving dismissively at the boxes and leaning back in his chair. âThereâs no hurry. Itâs not like Iâm going anywhere.â
Maeve nodded. âOkay. Well, I came down to remind you that we have happy hour tonightâitâs always on the last Friday of the . . .â
âThank you for the reminder, but Iâm not interested.â
Maeve frowned. âAre you sure? Everyoneâs out there, and I think youâd enjoy . . .â
âIâm sure. Thank you.â
âOkay, well, donât forget we have dinner at five.â
âI wonât forget.â
âAnd let me know if you need anything. Iâm happy to help.â
The old man nodded and mustered a reassuring smile.
Maeve smiled back, but she still worried as she closed the door. She paused in the hallway to let Gage know sheâd be working late again and then hurried back to the kitchen, still picturing the old man in his recliner, silently gazing out the window. She had witnessed similar scenes before: elderly folks whoâd been movedâsometimes against their willâinto senior living. Some came willingly, it was trueâand even looked forward to the opportunity to socialize with folks their ageâbut others resented it. It made them feel as if it was the end of the lineâas if theyâd lost their home, their freedom, control of their lives, and their independence. Life no longer had purpose or meaning, and they often became withdrawn and depressed. Maeve had studied the psychological effects such changes had on the elderly, especially when the move wasnât voluntary. And she knew, from experience, that a successful adjustment depended on a personâs attitude. If they didnât have a positive outlook, it was difficult to lift their spirits or get them to engage. Mr. Hawkins was obviously not happy about his new arrangement, but if anyone could cheer him up, she could . . . and she loved a challenge!
She pushed open the door of the kitchen and Sal looked up from spreading cornmeal, flour, and spices on his work counter. âI wondered where you disappeared to,â he said. âKate was looking for you. She already took the tray out.â
âOkay. I was reminding our newest resident about happy hour.â
âMr. Hawkins? Is he coming?â Sal asked as he dipped a long translucent white filet into a bowl.
âNo,â she replied with a frown. âI think heâs having a hard time. . . . I hope he comes to dinner.â
Sal nodded as he laid the filet, dripping in egg, onto the cornmeal and flipped it to coat both sides. âIf he doesnât, we can bring a plate down to him.â
Maeve nodded and then raised her eyebrows. âWhat is for dinner, Sal?â
He smiled. âWhat does it look like?â
âCatfish?â
He grinned mischievously. âDonât tell Miss Gladys!â
Maeve laughed. âI wonât. Weâll see if she complains about having fish again.â
Sal laughed. âShe better not!â
Maeve was about to go out and help Kate when her phone hummed. She looked at the screen and saw a photo of Gus lying in the sunshine with his head between his paws, looking forlorn. She shook her head and typed: Tell him not to look so sadâIâll see him soon! Then she slid her phone back in her pocket and stepped out onto the porch where she was greeted by a chorus of âHereâs Maeve!â and âWe knew you didnât get lost!â
âI didnât get lost,â Maeve said, smiling as she picked up empty paper plates and napkins.
âWould you like a little vino?â Gladys asked with a wink as she held up her glass and gestured to the bottle of Chardonnay she and Addie were sharing.
âNo, no,â Maeve said, laughing. âSomeone has to behave around here.â
âWe never behave, do we?â Gladys said, eyeing Addie with a mischievous grin.
âI behave,â Addie replied, feigning indignation and eyeing her friend. âYouâre the mischievous one. I heard you stopped by Mr. Hawkinsâs apartment and tried to give him a kiss.â
âPshaw,â Gladys said, her eyes sparkling. âHe was happy to see me. Everyone enjoys a warm welcome when theyâre the new kid.â
âOh, dear,â said Maeve, looking alarmed. âDid you really?â
âAbsolutely!â Gladys said. âHe said, âDonât ever do that again!â but I know he was just foolinâ. Playing hard
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