Polly groaned as she pulled her pillow over her head and rolled onto her other side. The noise. God damn the noise had been ongoing for months now, and she was absolutely sick of it. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she couldn't take it anymore and instead of lying their grousing, she got up and threw her window open to see the construction workers outside. She glared at them as they stopped and looked at her momentarily before continuing, deciding instead to ignore her daily glare and do their work. After a few minutes Polly gave in, and decided to get dressed and head to the dining hall for breakfast.
Polly pulled on a pair of slacks, a button down shirt and combed her wavy faded blonde hair. She picked up the cane from her beside and then headed out of the room and towards the dining hall. Once there she saw what breakfast was, and felt a bit better. She always enjoyed breakfast. Polly grabbed one of the orange fiberglass trays from the rack and headed to the line, where she piled up on hashbrowns, bacon and scrambled eggs. She poured herself a cup of coffee and then took her tray to the empty table where she always sat alone. Polly set her tray of food down and then, reaching into her black windbreaker pocket, pulled out a small bottle of bills and popped two before washing them down with a sip of her coffee. Polly grabbed her fork and stabbed a mouthful of scrambled eggs, lifting it to her mouth as she watched everyone going about their business around her. Seemed now, even as an old woman, she didn't have friends. *** "Where do you want these?" Burt asked, holding a few potted plants under his arms as Carol turned from up on her stepladder and looked down at him. She hesitated, putting a hand on her hip and sucked on her teeth momentarily before finally replying. "I think those would best be suited in the front hallway, they'd get the most light there," Carol said, and Burt nodded, heading off with them as Polly walked up, still sipping her coffee. "Decorating?" Polly asked. "It's been a mad house," Carol said, sighing and wiping her forehead as she turned back to hanging the decorations over the hall entrances, "but, it's all for the best, you know? I'm trying to make this place cheerier, better for the ones who have to actually call it home." "Yeah that's great, you're a real saint, listen...how much longer do you think this is going to go on?" Polly asked. "...why?" Carol asked, turning her attention back to Polly now. "Because your admirable home renovation is killing me," Polly said, "Every single morning I have to wake up to hunky shirtless men doing construction outside my window. I'm not used to being an early bird." "Any other woman would be thanking me, but you have to find fault with a gift from god," Carol said. "First of all, that isn't a gift, and secondly, you're not god," Polly replied, making Carol chuckle as she stepped down the ladder and put her hands on her knees, catching her breath before looking up at Polly, who was shaking her head. "It shouldn't be too much longer, honestly. We've been putting in new plumbing and that's what most of the construction outside your room in particular has been about," Carol said, "Sorry about the intrusion, sincerely. It should only be another week. There was a lot to fix. It's kind of disheartening just how poorly run and underfunded old folks homes are." Polly sighed and folded her arms, as they watched a few female nurses walk by laughing. Polly looked back at Carol and furrowed her brow. "Where's Boris?" she finally asked. "No idea, he didn't spent the night here," Carol said. *** Boris was, in fact, standing in the bathroom of Whittle's apartment as he straightened his tie and brushed down his hair as Whittle zipped up her dress behind him. Neither one really wanted to talk about what they were about to head into, but they both knew that not addressing it would be even less smart than ignoring it. Finally, Whittle finished and came to the sink, pulling out her makeup kit and beginning to apply it. "We're doing the right thing, right?" Whittle finally asked quietly. "Of course," Boris said, "This is what she wants, so we're doing the right thing." "I, just...we aren't her family, no matter how things feel right now," Whittle said as Boris exited the bathroom into her bedroom and pulled on his sports coat. "We're more of a family than the one she left, or that's how she feels, otherwise we wouldn't be housing her right now," Boris said as he turned back to face Whittle as she finished her makeup and came to the doorway, pinning her earrings into her ears. "I'm just so nervous," Whittle said. "The social worker told us we have custody of her at the moment," Boris said, "They checked out her home, they know what it's like, and she has no other relatives to go to. We're a foster family. Didn't you ever want different parents growing up?" "I mean, sometimes I'd get mad at my mom and say 'I wish you weren't my mom!' but it was always in jest, in the heat of the moment, nothing sincere about it," Whittle said, "...why, did you?" "Of course not," Boris said, "but Ellen did." With that, he exited the room, leaving Whittle in her sleek black dress and high heels, sighing as she ran her hands through her hair one last time to get any tangles out. She never wanted to be a mother, even a foster mother, so she tried to think of herself more as an 'older sister'. But...she felt like a bad person for not wanting to help Chrissy adjust to her new reality, because it was a reality they all shared, and the more she tried to fight it, the less real it must've seemed to Chrissy, and that wasn't fair, she knew that much. Whittle finally exited the room and saw Chrissy sitting on the couch in her nice dressy outfit, reading a book and sucking on a popsicle as Boris poured himself a bowl of cereal. "Shouldn't she eat real breakfast?" Whittle asked, and Boris shrugged. "She obviously knows what's best for her," Boris said. This sort of thinking frustrated Whittle, but she'd bring it up later. Now wasn't the time to upset the balance. After all, they had a school portrait to take. Some of the money Carol had inherited she generously gave to a nearby private school so Chrissy could have a better education and a fresh start. Boris hadn't even asked, this was just something that Carol - upon learning of the situation - had decided would be a generous thing to do. But as they drove to the new private school to take a family portrait for Chrissy's file, Whittle couldn't help but feel as if they were somehow crossing a boundary they shouldn't be crossing. Then again, Whittle had never really felt like a part of a family, so maybe she was just scared. Yeah. It had to be that...right? The headmaster of the school was a young man named Kevin Arnold, who looked like he was the lead singer in a rock band, but dressed in a suit and cleaned up. He was extremely polite, had a radiant smile and was more than welcoming to Boris, Whittle and Chrissy. He led them down a long, clean, well lit hallway as they headed to the room designated for taking these portraits, explaining to them the process. His sparkling blue eyes had wholly entranced Whittle, and she couldn't take her eyes off his sandy blonde hair and his well manicured nails. "I looked over her transcripts and Chrissy seems to be a well educated young lady, and I think she'll fit in perfectly here at Middleton," Kevin said, "Do you have any hobbies? Any interests? We have many after school extracurriculars that you could join." "I always kind of wanted to play an instrument," Chrissy said, shrugging. "We have an excellent music teacher and a four time award winning band that would love to have a new member!" Kevin said, clasping his hands together in excitement before slipping his hands into his coat pockets and walking along side her, asking, "Any instrument in particular?" "The clarinet seemed cool," Chrissy said, smiling, bouncy, clearly enjoying herself. Boris nudged Whittle as they walked a few feet behind the headmaster and new student, and Whittle stopped picking at her nails and looked at him. "So?" Boris asked, "Any thoughts?" "I don't know," Whittle said, "I guess I just...I don't understand what it is we're doing. My family wasn't...I mean, my parents weren't bad parents, we just weren't a very tight knit family, so being this close and involved is...it feels weird to me, is all." "Well, this isn't your family, it's her family, so try to think of it like that," Boris said, before heading off to catch up with the headmaster and Chrissy, leaving Whittle to wonder...if it's not her family too, then what was the point of being a part of it? *** "I can't take it anymore," Polly groaned as she leaned against the wall, waiting for Burt to figure out what he wanted from the vending machine. She exhaled the smoke from her cigarette and sighed, shaking her head, adding, "She's doing this on purpose, she has never liked me." "Jeezum baloo, Polly, she's just trying to make the place a better home," Burt said, finally making his decision and keying in B8, waiting for it to register and drop; he continued, "it's not personal. She didn't make a deal with James so he'd leave her all his money so she could enact some sort of construction practical joke on you. You're paranoid." "I'm not...well, okay, I am paranoid, but not about this. She deliberately is making this go on as long as she can in order to irritate me," Polly said, taking another drag. "And why would she do that?" Burt asked, bending down to fish out his snack from the bottom of the machine, "She honestly rarely ever even thinks about you, let alone enough to want to bother you." "She says she's making this place better for everyone, but she never thinks about me? Sounds like she's doing it more for her own ego then," Polly said, making Burt stop and look at her, his hand crammed into a bag of overly salty chips. He swallowed, cleared his throat and furrowed his brow at her. "Is there something specific you want from this renovation?" he asked. "...can you ask, so she doesn't say no to me?" Polly asked, sounding sad. This was, Burt had to admit, the most human Polly had ever come across, and it honestly made him see her in a different light. He smiled after a moment and nodded, asking what it was she wanted. *** Chrissy was sitting on her bed when there was a knock on the door. She said they could come in, and saw Whittle open the door, enter, and then shut it behind her. Chrissy put her new schoolbacks into her bookbag and then scooted back up towards the pillows, pulling her legs to her chest as Regina stood in the center of the room and looked around. "I think today went well, right?" she asked. "I liked it there, the headmaster was really nice," Chrissy said, "You seemed to like him a bit too much." Whittle couldn't help but chuckle at this. "Yeah, I definitely did, I won't deny it," she said, "I need to ask you a question, and I need you to be honest with me, okay?" Chrissy nodded as Whittle sat on the end of the bed and looked at her. "Um...you consider us a family, right?" Whittle asked, and Chrissy nodded again; Regina continued, saying, "but...we're not like your parents, are we? I mean, you don't see me as your...like...a surrogate mother, right?" "God no," Chrissy said, making Whittle break and begin laughing hard. "Wow!" Whittle said, "That was incredibly rude and yet I can't be mad because it was the exact answer I wanted." "Boris is like my grandpa," Whittle said, "I don't see my grandpa a lot anymore, and I really liked him, so it's nice to have another wise old man to look up to. Boris is probably cooler than my grandpa, in all honesty. But you? You're more like..." A moment of hesitation, as she clearly thought about it, and then said "...the cool older cousin," Chrissy said, which surprised Whittle as even she hadn't considered this one; Chrissy continued, "Like...the cool cousin who's the black sheep of the family; the cousin who sneaks you into R rated movies and lets you use swear words around her." "...I totally am that cousin," Whittle said, "...Boris told me that it didn't matter how I felt because this was your family, but-" "Well that's a dumb thing to say for someone as smart as him," Chrissy said, interrupting her, "It's not my family, it's our family." Whittle smiled. A family didn't have to be made up of people related to one another, just as a community didn't have to be made up of people who regularly got along. Everyone was going to have skirmishes, issues to resolve, things to argue about, but in the end what made the difference was that you all tried to fix it and work together to make the living situation worth it for everyone. As Whittle left the bedroom and stood in the hallway, she couldn't help but smile to herself. She really was the cool older cousin, and that was something she didn't mind being one iota. *** Polly woke up and opened her eyes, still somewhat blurry. She reached around for her bifocals on the bedside table and pulled them onto her face with urgency, as she saw a woman - youngish woman with auburn hair in a messy bun, jeans and a flannel overshirt - measuring her wall. Polly waited to say anything, and then finally broke the silence by clearing her throat nonchalantly. The woman turned on her heel, thumbs in her tool belt, and smiled. "Hi, I hope I didn't wake you up," she said, "I'm Megan. I'm...I've been asked to renovate your room specifically, so I was just taking some measurements." "...no, it's...it's no problem at all," Polly said, smiling. After she got dressed and left Megan to head to the dining hall to get them both some coffee and donuts, she found Carol sitting at a table by herself, eating a few sausages. Polly took a seat beside her before she headed back and didn't speak for a moment, until Carol finished chewing. "Um...thanks," Polly said, "I know I haven't been the nicest person to you, or anyone, but...thank you." "Don't thank me, thank Burt, he's the one who made the request," Carol said, "I just paid the money and told them what to do. You'll have a nice bathroom with a walk in tub in no time. Didn't know your hip was that bad." "Been bad for a while, accident from a long time ago," Polly said, "I have to take her this coffee." "Though I suppose you could thank me if you wanted," Carol said, wiping her mouth on her napkin before turning to Polly, who was now standing out of her chair, holding the coffee and donuts. "Wh...what for?" "Well, I saw the way you looked at those nurses, the way you described the guys working outside your room. Sure, Burt made the suggestion for the renovation, but I'm the one who sent her there for you." Polly blushed, nodded, and then turned and headed back to her room. Carol watched her leave the dining hall, then turned her focus back to her breakfast plate. She sipped her orange juice, and chuckled to herself as she took a sip. "Lesbians are so easy to please," Carol said to herself, biting into her second sausage.
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Golden Years follows the exploits of a bunch of old people in a retirement home as they try to have fun, relax or come to terms with the soon to be end of their lives. Archives
April 2024
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