Stealing the Groom

Twenty

XX: Bittersweet Recollections

MY PALMS were clammy with sweat as we approached the black, iron gates. Thousands of scenarios of how this would go down sprung into my head just then, each different from the other. Would Hannah's Nana remember me? Would she say something in front of Hannah to make her suspect who I am? 

My eyes swept around the property, admiring the perfectly manicured lawn and trees while my stomach churned when the cab stopped at the entrance of the tall building. Hannah stepped out, and after taking a deep breath, I followed suit. I wistfully watched the cab disappear past the gates, silently willing him to come back for me. Reluctantly, I followed Hannah up the cobblestone steps to the entrance. I stood fidgeting in my heels as Hannah and I were buzzed inside the building, and after letting out a big sigh, we stepped past the threshold. 

The foyer was drastically different from the outside. While at first glance Weatherby Center looked like a castle, the inside was as modern and sleek as New York's best hospital. Hannah and I moved past the waiting area and after giving the woman at the front desk our information, we were allowed past the locked doors and into a large library. 

"Oh shoot, I forgot to tell the receptionist something. Go right on in, I'll be back."

"Hannah wait," I began with begging eyes not to leave me alone. 

"It's fine! She's the little old lady sitting in the corner on the piano bench." I opened my mouth to object again but it was too late; Hannah had already turned to walk out of the library. 

I gulped loudly, and after shooting the door one more glance, I turned nervously and made my way towards the corner of the room. I passed a pair of oldsters playing a game of chess that looked more intense than the last round of a national tournament, and a group of women gossiping while daintily sipping their teas. My eyes slid past the numerous nurses scattered around the room and my ears absorbed the residents' animated chatter. It wasn't until I was just a few feet away from Hannah's grandmother that every sound and person in the room ceased to exist.

The old, frail woman sitting on the piano bench turned the page of her sheet music, and continued to causally, almost lazily, stroke the keys. An enchanting, melancholy melody flowed out of the instrument, and I let myself smile at the memory of hearing her play for the first time. 

"Beethoven right?" I found myself asking. The woman's thin fingers paused on the smooth keys, and slowly, she turned to look at me. 

A blinding smile lit up her wrinkled face then, as her warm chocolate eyes met mine. "Elle, it's been a while since you've come around here."

My spine automatically straightened as the confusion her words caused sank in. "Excuse me?"

Nana smiled again as if amused by my bewilderment. "Is my Max with you? I'm sure Margaret will want you to stay for dinner." 

"I-I'm sorry, I'm not sure I'm following what you're saying," I said in a soft voice but she quickly interrupted.

"You're good for our boy. He never truly smiled until he met you. Where is he? Margaret will be so happy to see you lovebirds together."

"Oh Margaret, there you are," Nana said as she spotted someone behind me. "Come darling, play with me. It's the Moonlight Sonata, your favorite." 

"Nana, I'm Hannah remember? Margaret's my mom." Nana starred at her blankly for the longest moment before turning back to the piano and playing a few notes. 

Hannah and I exchanged a look before she spoke in a low voice, "She has Alzheimer's disease. Sometimes she remembers me, sometimes not. Like now. She confused me for my mother."