Faded Print

I started working with Mrs. Edmunds as a favor to a neighbor that was working as a private duty nurse and could not do both jobs. Mrs. Edmunds didn't need a nurse really, she was actually in very good shape and health for a woman in her 90s. Octavia Claire Edmunds was a wealthy widow that did not have family in the area and they didn't seem too eager to ensure if their stepmother/step-grandmother was fairing well.

It always bothered me that the adopted children and their immediate family members she shared with her third deceased husband, yes I said third, were not too inclined to visit Mrs. Edmunds. According to her, the first husband died quite young and early in the marriage and that union was childless. Her second husband was gay and using Mrs. Edmunds as a beard. Once she learned that, they agreed to divorce and she got an enormous financial settlement for her tact and discreetness. She and that second husband stayed close friends until his death.

Her third husband seems to be the man that she was best suited to be with. They adopted a total of 8 children during their 47 year marriage prior to his death. I asked her how come she didn't have children of her own? She simply said she could not.

I was in need of an extra source of income and Mrs. Edmunds was willing to pay in cash, or should I say rather pay by check. So here I am, a woman in my late 30s being a companion to another woman old enough to be my grandmother. People have often said I was an old soul. Despite the age difference, we had a lot in common, we enjoyed old movies, jazz, reading a good book and various ethnic foods. Mrs. Edmunds was still quite sharp and spry. We would go walks or bike rides and she insisted on doing her own grocery shopping even though I was the one pushing the cart around the store. She had stopped driving several years before but still kept a beautiful luxury vehicle in her garage for my use when I was at her home on duty.

I just think she didn't like being in that large home all alone. There was a part-time housekeeper, visiting CNA and gardener that helped to maintain order. Some her meals were delivered but she and I shared many meals together and I would often cook for her. She said she enjoyed my cooking very much even if were a tad bit on the spicy side for her. Like many people of a certain age, she was intimidated by technology but I signed her up for some computer classes at her local library and eventually she began to see that a laptop or PC was not a damned spying devil. In fact, she enjoyed using the spying devil to contact her adoptive children and their families.

However, one thing I could not get her to do was her banking or pay any accounts online. She was too old school for that. So that's where I came in, I used the telephone to make her hair appointments, medical appointments, matinee tickets and call in for restaurant reservations. When it came to banking and paying accounts, she still got paper statements in the mail which I had to open, make a cop of the statement and bring Mrs. Edmunds her black ledger book so she could hand write all of her checks. I would take the copies of the bills and file then away. After about 90 days, I would start shredding those older statements to make way for the new ones. If not, it could have turned into a micro hoarding situation.

The black book was interesting because it also contained commemorative postage stamps of prominent African-Americans. I was surprised she had these because Mrs. Edmunds was an older white woman where I was Afro-Latina. When I asked her why did she buy and keep these stamps? She replied, this country was and still is belligerent and vile to black people. A stamp cannot fix that but it shows their(black person) humanity was not totally forgotten. Such a profound statement, I was not expecting that.

I remember Mrs. Edmunds asked me if I were married or had children, I told her I had never been married but I did have a child that died at 10 months of age of Pompe Disease. I was living with my child's father during the ordeal and one day not too long after we buried our son, he packed up all his personal effects and walked out of my life. So I was left to grieve for my beautiful baby boy and the man I thought who would help me through that crisis. When I told her that story, Mrs. Edmunds eyes began to tear up and so I told her, let's not have any more sad talk about babies gone too soon.

I was at Mrs. Edmunds house 4 days a week for about 6 hours a day and it paid well. Some days when she was feeling tired, I made sure she got in bed and checked with the CNA before heading home early. Since I was not a live in or worked overnight shifts, there was no need for me to be there during the night. One day we were in the grocery store and she was moving very slowly and seemed exhausted. I got the sit down cart and did the shopping. Before, I could get done, she collapsed. Paramedics were called and she was rushed off to the ER.

I drove her car to the hospital. I called the CNA and she said she would meet me there. When the CNA arrived, I told her what I knew and she asked if she could see Mrs. Edmunds. We both went to see her in the ER bay. This once vibrant, sassy 90-something year old woman all of sudden looked small, old and lost. It was sad to see her like that but we said words of encouragement before a nurse asked us to step out. The CNA and I parted ways and she assured me she'd call Mrs. Edmunds relatives.

I drove the car back to the house and noticed the Mrs. Edmunds black book was on the passenger floor. I picked it up and put it in my bag and starting walking to the train station to head home. I felt depleted.

The next day, I called the hospital and spoke to a nurse that said Mrs. Edmunds wasn't allowed visitors yet, but I was welcome to speak to her on the phone and she transferred me to Mrs. Edmunds room. She sounded alert but tired and kept saying over and over again that I was a blessing and a clever girl. I told her that I would pray for her and visit her as soon as she could have visitors. I never got that chance, Mrs. Edmunds died during the night.

When I heard the news, I cried like a baby. I called the CNA and asked her to please tell me about any arrangements because I wanted to be there and pay my respects but there were a few things I needed to get from the house. We agreed to meet at the house the following day.

When we arrived at what use to be Mrs. Edmunds estate, there was an appraisal company and movers already buzzing about the property. The CNA and I walked in to be stopped at the door and questioned about who we are. The so called relatives that never seemed to visit Mrs. Edmunds were on hand with attorney, appraisers and movers taking inventory of what they wanted or what was valuable. We were told to wait in the foyer and could not enter the house, someone later returned with 2 black trash bags. Each bag contained any items we left behind. We both looked in the bag realizing our stuff was intact and departed the home for the last time. Outside I said to the CNA, I don't think they will tell us about her service. She offered me a ride to the train station and I went home.

Later that night, I could not sleep at all. My mind was on Mrs. Edmunds. I hope her soul was at rest, I will miss her. Just then, I realized I had to pee and headed to the bathroom. On the way back, I damn near tripped over my bag and didn't understand why it was a bit heavier than usual. I looked in the bag and had totally forgotten about the black book. I got a little concerned because this book contained blank checks and I did not want to be accused of stealing them.

I opened the black book only to find no blank checks but an envelope with my name on it. There was a card inside with a message from Mrs. Edmunds. A key was also tapped inside the card. Supposedly, the key opened a tiny hidden lock that revealed a secret compartment to the black book. As many times as I had touched it, I had no idea. I fumbled with the key and finally was able to get the compartment to pop open. I felt like I had to pee again.

In the false bottom of the black book was $20K in crisp 100 dollar bills.