Wanderer

Carlisle

I was nearly ready to leave the nursing home for the day when I heard the sound of worried voices. I hurried out of my office. "Marianne? What's wrong?"

The director turned to me. "Mildred Franks is missing."

I frowned with concern; Mildred Franks was one of our Alzheimer's patients. "Do you have any idea how long she's been gone?"

Marianne Billings shook her head. "The aide went to get her for lunch and realized she wasn't here."

I looked out the window, hoping the woman had at least put on a jacket; the temperature had been hovering around freezing all morning, and the thick clouds threatened snow before night. "Let me just grab my coat, and I'll go out after her," I said quietly.

"No; you'd better stay here in case she needs medical attention when we find her."

I smiled slightly; I didn't doubt the humans' ability to find her, but I sincerely doubted they could beat me to it. "I'll have my cell phone on; if anyone finds her they can give me a call and I'll head right back."

I slipped into my office without waiting for further argument, pulling on my thick coat before heading out. "I'll find her," I assured Marianne.

"I still think —"

I smiled and shook my head and headed out the door.

Mildred Franks' scent was still strong; it must have been an hour at most since she left. Of course, even an hour could be far too long if, as I suspected, she wasn't dressed for the weather. At least she was fairly healthy, aside from the dementia.

I hurried along at what would pass for a fast stroll; not an unlikely pace for a human out in this freezing weather. Thankfully, she seemed to have kept to the sidewalk, and the only side streets had very little traffic.

I was nearly a mile from the nursing home before I spotted her, standing looking over the edge of a bridge that went over a small creek. A leather purse hung by its strap from her arm, and though she at least had a red sweater on over her blouse, she had her arms crossed against the cold.

I walked as heavily as I could, trying to avoid startling her. "Millie?" I said, laying a hand on her arm. Edward had said she was living in the past; sometimes as a young wife and mother, sometimes as an unmarried girl. She might or might not respond to her surname; it was best to address her by the familiar "Millie."

She turned and looked at me without surprise. "It's getting colder, Robert."

I wondered if I bore some resemblance to her late husband, or if she would have addressed any man by his name. "Here, take my coat," I offered, slipping it off and wrapping it around her thin shoulders. I only wished I had been able to warm it up for her.

Pulling out my cell phone, I quickly dialed the number for the nursing home. "Yes, Marianne, this is Dr Cullen; I found her on the little bridge over Mason's Creek…She seems to be all right…just a little chilled…no, that won't be necessary. I'm going to take her up to the coffee shop for a hot drink; I'll call a cab from there…Right, see you then." I closed the phone and tucked Millie's hand in the crook of my arm. "How would you like a hot drink, Millie?"

She smiled. "That would be wonderful, Robert."

It was a five-minute walk to the little row of shops, and Millie stepped through the door as I held it for her. I found her a seat beside the heat radiator, pulling out the chair for her. "What would you like to drink; coffee?"

She smiled almost shyly. "Hot cocoa."

"Hot cocoa it is, then. Stay here; I'll be right back."

I kept one eye on her as I ordered her cocoa; she seemed content to sit where I had left her.

I checked the temperature of the drink with the tip of my finger before giving it to her, wanting to be sure she wouldn't scald her mouth. She wrapped both hands around the cup and took a sip, then smiled girlishly. "It's been years since I had hot cocoa, Robert."

I smiled and pulled out my phone, dialing Information for the number of the taxi service.

The taxi pulled up in front of the building just as Mildred was finishing her cocoa, and I stood and offered her my arm. "Let's go; our ride's here."

The cab driver gave Mildred a knowing look when I gave him the address; I chose to ignore it. When he pulled up at the main entrance, I stopped to pay him before going around to open Mildred's door for her. "Keep the change."

He whistled softly. "Hey, thanks, mister." He glanced over his shoulder at Mildred. "Kind of screwy, that one, ain't she?"

I barely restrained a growl; I had begun to think of the residents as family — not that I approved of derogatory statements in any case. "She's ill," I said shortly, "not 'screwy.'"

He shrugged. "Hey, I was just makin' conversation, mister. Thanks again for the tip."

I shook my head and went to assist Mildred into the building.

As I opened the front door for her, she turned to smile up at me. "Don't I get a kiss goodbye?"

I leaned down and gently kissed her cheek. "Take care, Millie."

Marianne stepped forward quickly. "Here, Mildred, give the doctor his coat back."

Millie looked from one to the other of us in confusion. "Doctor? This is my fiancé, Robert; he just took me shopping."

"But you are wearing my coat, Millie," I said gently, lifting it from her shoulders. "Remember? You were cold with just your sweater."

She nodded, but still seemed a bit uncertain.

"You go on inside now, Millie," I told her. "We don't want you getting sick."

Marianne frowned as Millie moved down the hall. "Aren't you going to check her out?"

I raised an eyebrow. "She thinks I'm her fiancé dropping her off after a date; I'm not sure a doctor's examination would be appropriate." If she continued thinking I was Robert Franks, I didn't need Alice's help to foresee some interesting complications in the days ahead. "If you want me to check her, then have someone tell her she's going to see Dr Cullen; maybe that way she won't confuse me with Robert. But I don't think it's necessary; I gave her a once-over, and she seems fine."

Marianne nodded, having come to trust my judgment over the past months. "How did you do it?" she asked quietly. "I mean…you found her so fast, it was as if you knew right where to look."

I hesitated. "Call it a sixth sense." I leaned one hand on the desk and changed the subject. "You know, I've heard of systems where likely wanderers wear a special bracelet, and a sensor on the door locks it if they try to go out; I think you can punch in a code to override it."

Marianne sighed. "I know…it would be nice. But we're barely operating in the black as it is…we'll just have to keep a closer eye on them."

I nodded, saying nothing. But I made up my mind to anonymously donate a couple hundred thousand… plus that sensor system. Marianne might be suspicious — though she had no idea I was more than moderately well-to-do — but I honestly didn't care if she did guess. These residents had become part of my family; I would take care of them in every way I could.

Next story coming next week!

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