Ethel glided down the street in her cheery floral dress, a polyester mosaic of pungent yellows, delicate purples, and flamboyant oranges. Her bright red heels click clacked as her tight jet black curls of hair bounced with every stride. Without even talking to her, one could already see her loud personality. And that was exactly how she wanted to be perceived. Loud. Just the life of the party. She was not at all a narcissist, but an optimist. If you did not live life to the fullest, you simply were not living life at all. That was her motto.
On her arm she carried a baby blue basket with a pink bow tied around the handle, muffins and sweet bread inside. She could not bake if her life depended on it, a constant reminder from neighbors and family every time she attempted a batch of cookies or a small cake, but it was all about the presentation. Besides, she thought, I'm sure Helen would appreciate some goodies, even though they are store-bought.
Her walk ended at the entrance gate of Golden Dewlight Retirement Home. "Here we are!" she sung aloud, to no one in particular, but she adored the attention of heads that would turn to the sound of her melodic voice.
"How do you do?" she would greet one person out in the front yard as she made her way, and she continued with her "Hello's" and "Good to see you too's" until she made it to the front door. Then she would stride inside and toward her good friend Harriet.
"Oh, excuse me, Señ- er- ma'am?" an unfamiliar voice called out. Ethel stopped and turned her head to the direction of the sound. "I am sorry to stop you, but you have to sign the "time back in" paper to let them know that you are back inside".
Ethel was confused. The… "time back in"?… then her face fell. I- I don't look… that old… or… decrepit. I… obviously don't belong here. Heh… she's just new here, that's all. I'm sure… she tells all the visitors that all the time, just to make sure… yes, that's it…
She cleared away the small lump in her throat and brightened her disposition. "Oh, you're mistaken. I'm actually just a visitor. My name is Ethel Hapilin". She extended her hand to the assistant.
The assistant's face reddened a bit, but she smiled back and shook her hand with vigor. "I am very sorry about that. It is going to take me a while to, um, rec-…rec-, er-". With her left hand, she kept snapping her fingers as she thought hard for the elusive word.
"… Recognize?" Ethel offered.
"Yes! Recognize faces. Thank you." A sheepish grin appeared on the assistant's face. "My name is Zoe. Zoe Montoya. I am new here and just tend mostly to cleaning. Help wherever I can".
"Well Zoe, don't worry about a thing" Ethel began, "a simple mistake. No harm done. I'll just be on my way to see a friend of mine and give her this basket of goodies".
"Go right ahead! Sorry again for the trouble".
"No trouble. Good bye. Oh, or as your generation would say now, later!" Ethel beamed as she went upstairs to Harriet's room.
"Um, later", Zoe replied, unsure of what to make of the elderly woman, especially when Ethel had not answered her for nearly thirty seconds after she told her to sign back in, as if she might have been hurt by her misjudgment. She did not mean to imply that Ethel looked as though she should be in a retirement home. Pero lo dije. But she did not want to dwell on it. She had more pressing matters to attend to.