“Martha Landry.” Ms. Irene nods knowingly. “She was a candy striper, and she had the biggest mouth in our senior class.”
“Martha Landry? I don’t remember her ever working at the hospital.” Miss Jessica looks at her friend confused.
“She got kicked out after a year.” Ms. Irene flares her eyes. “She thought she was so cute in that uniform. From what I heard, the boys did, too.”
“No!” Miss Jessica hisses.
“Yes.” Ms. Irene raises her eyebrows and does a little sniff. “Now she was a ho.”
Looking back and forth between them, I can’t help it. “Why did I think ladies were more… ladylike back then?”
“Because you’re an idiot.” Miss Jessica snips.
“Please don’t spare my feelings.”
Ms. Irene starts laughing, and Mindy jogs into the room. “What’d I miss?”
I look up at her. “Any idea where I might find Martha Landry?” The ho.
“Well, yeah. She’s over in the east wing.”
“Are you serious?” Standing fast, I catch her arm. “Can I see her now?”
“Probably.”
We take off in the opposite direction. Ms. Irene calls something after us, but I assume it’s another little dig, either about us dating or me knowing nothing about old ladies.
She’d be right about the latter.
Mindy checks her phone. “I guess we can see her now. I know she sleeps a lot these days.”
It takes less than a minute to get to her room, and Mindy taps on the door. “Miss Landry?” Her voice is hushed. “Are you awake?”
“I’m awake!” A high, wobbly voice answers, and my insides tighten.
Could it possibly be this easy?
We enter the room, and I look around at the papers with childish drawings taped to the walls, framed photos of teens in caps and gowns, couples in wedding attire. A thick old lady sits in a glider across from us. She’s wearing heavy, tortoise-shell glasses, and her hair is cut close to her head. She smiles broadly when we enter.
“Hi, Miss Landry.” Mindy speaks softly in sort of a sing-song tone as we enter. I linger at the door. “How are you feeling today?”
“Is that you, Gabriella?” She reaches out a hand, which Mindy takes. “I was just thinking about you. How is little Trixie? I bet she started walking.”
“She’s doing good.” Mindy nods, still speaking in that quiet voice. “She took her first steps last week.”
Straightening, I frown, trying to understand what’s happening right now. Mindy doesn’t have a child…
“You’re so sweet to come and see me. Is that Roy with you?” She leans to the side, peering at me over her glasses. “My word, if I’d known the mayor was coming, I’d have had my hair done.”
“Come say hello, Roy.” Mindy makes eyes at me, and I walk over to shake the old lady’s hand.
“Hi.” I smile, not sure what to say. “How’s it going?
“How are things down at the courthouse?” I look at Mindy for help. She just tilts her head to the side like play along.
“Oh… Ah, you know…” I’m trying to think. “Same old same old… Files and fingerprints.”
Mindy snorts, and I squint at her. She did not prepare me to role-play.
“Did you get my note about that pothole over on Pine Street? I nearly broke an axle on Tuesday.”
“Um… Yes. I did.” Mindy’s eyebrows rise in approval. “I put my best man on it.”
“It better not be that Jimmy Hebert.” The old lady scowls, shifting in her seat. “All he does is stand around and flirt. He doesn’t do a bit of work.”
“I’ve heard about him.” I do my best to sound mayoral, wondering how to get out of this. “I’ll have a talk with him this afternoon in my office.”
“You do that.” She sniffs and moves on to her next complaint. “That Salinas boy was picking his nose again. Tossing newspapers and picking his nose. I have to wash my hands every time I touch my paper.”
She goes on longer than I’d like, until finally Mindy finds an exit strategy. “I’d better get the mayor back to work. Important town business.”
“Well, thanks for visiting.” Miss Landry huffs, shifting in her chair. “You’ve got my vote next year.”
Mindy promises to bring the baby next time. We’re out in the hall when she snorts a laugh. “Files and fingerprints?”
“You could’ve told me she has Alzheimer’s before we barged in there.”
“You didn’t ask!” Mindy does her best to stifle more laughter. “You sounded like a pretty good mayor. I’d vote for you!”
“At least I’m familiar with the town.” We stop at the reception desk, and I put my hands on my hips. “What now?”
“You’re trying to find a baby born seventy years ago? Why not just go to the courthouse, Mayor?”
“I have a feeling it wasn’t recorded. I don’t know of any uncle or aunt on my father’s side besides Winnie, and it’s not her.”
Mindy reaches behind the desk and grabs her purse. “Come on. One of the benefits of working here is I know just about all the doctors and nurses at the hospital. Maybe one of them can help us find this baby.”
“We just don’t keep records that old here at the hospital.” The young woman behind the desk makes a disappointed face that kind of annoys me. “A birth certificate or death certificate would’ve been filed at the courthouse.”
“Assuming one was filed.” It’s possible my annoyance is showing.
Her smile tightens. “Are you implying the hospital did something illegal?”
“Of course not. Thanks for your help.” Mindy grabs my arm and pulls me out of the small office. “Don’t piss off the clerks. I need them.”
“Sorry.” I shove a hand in my hair exhaling a low growl. “It’s like the answer is right here, and I just can’t find it.”
“Come on.” We head out to her waiting Prius. “Let’s go to the courthouse. We should’ve started there first.”
Ten minutes later, it’s the same story. No records. Only apologies.
“Told you.” We’re walking to Mindy’s car, and I’m ready to accept defeat.
“It might help if we knew the year this mystery baby was born. You’re sure your aunt doesn’t know anything?”
“I’m sure she won’t talk about it if she does.” The air is steamy, and I shrug off my blazer. “The last time I asked her about my grandfather, she said she was too young, no one told her anything.”
“You don’t believe her?”
Frustration tightens my chest. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I’m sorry this was a wild goose chase.”
“I don’t know why I expected anything different.” I think about my family’s mansion. That big old ancient place. I wonder if something might be hidden there… “Maybe I should just go home.”
It’s a short drive to Pine Hills. Mindy parks in the administrative lot, and I’m about to head to my car when a high-pitched voice warbles my name. “Deacon! Oh, Deacon! You, there!”