You Say When

4

                                                                                    Bojana Ionescu

            She met with Bojana at a restaurant bar named Langholm's on West Elm Street. When she arrived there, a woman fitting Bojana's description was waiting for her outside the building, talking on the phone and taking a final puff of her cigarette before snuffing it out. Saying goodbye to the person on the other end of the phone, Ms. Ionescu looked at her, a warm smile on her face as she held out her hand.

"Pleased to meet you, I'm Jana."

"Nice to meet you too.," she responded, noticing the business-like grip of Jana's handshake. She hoped her palms were not too sweaty. Even though summer was starting to fade into fall, she found her hands growing damp as she rode the bus to her meeting with Jana. She was always made to feel nervous about interviews. She didn't like being judged.

"Let's go inside and get a booth. My flight got in a few hours ago. I'm famished. You hungry?" Jana chattered, her voice a mixture of cultivated professionalism and sweet grandmother.

"I could eat."

"Perfect!" Jana held open the door, following after her as she stepped inside the dimly lit Langholm's. It was mid-afternoon, nearing four o'clock. Except for two customers at the bar chatting with the young barmaid, the place was empty. The smell of stale cigarette smoke and the stickiness of the floor made her nostalgic for her younger, wilder days. Places like Langholm's were the location for casual Friday night hangouts when her friends were not feeling the enthusiasm of the club.

Finding a seat in a booth far removed from the front door, they ordered. She ordered a cheeseburger. Bojana ordered a chicken Caesar salad and a club soda with lime. Once the waiter had left to put in their order, Ms. Ionescu fixed her with a polite smile as she clasped her hands together on the table.

"Now, we might as well get the difficult bit out of the way first. Mhm?"

She nodded.

"Alrighty then. For starters, tell me a little bit about yourself."

She swallowed, wishing she had a drink to sip in an attempt to buy herself some time. But there was no drink. Just a quiet room, the sound of her heavy breathing, and Bojana's expectant gaze staring her down.

"I'm twenty-two years old. I live not far from here. Previous work experience includes babysitting when I was in high school and waitressing at a sports bar."

Bojana nodded, flashing the waitress an appreciative smile when she placed her soda on the table. "Babysitting is good. Any other caregiving experience?"

She shrugged. "I've helped my mom take care of my grandma from time to time."

Her interviewer nodded again, bringing one arm up to rest her cheek on her closed hand. "Okay," she sighed, "Let me tell you a little about myself and my family. I live in California full-time. But I have been flying out every five weeks to stay with my father for one week at a time. I have two brothers and two sisters. But some are out of state like me or out of the country and some of them just don't have the time to come visit dad as much as he needs. Dad doesn't mind you see, but he needs someone to look after him. He was diagnosed with dementia a few years ago and we're starting to see some big losses of memory now. But it's to be expected. We just work with it. You know?"

She nodded, noticing a catch in Ms. Ionescu's voice.

"My dad, Paul, emigrated from Romania to the U.S. He did make a few stops along the way though. He was an aerospace engineer for thirty years before becoming a professor teaching aerospace engineering at MIT. He did that for twenty years I believe before retiring. He was married, but my mom is passed away now. Dad met mom in America when he was in his late twenties or early thirties, I think. They were married for...," Bojana blew out a breath, trying to calculate in her head, "Almost sixty years."

She nodded again, quietly marveling at some couples' ability to endure each other for that long. She doubted she should ever like to be connected to someone for that long. She was sure that they'd run out of things to talk about eventually.

Pausing for the waitress to place their food in front of them, Bojana resumed relating the family details after a few bites of salad. "Dad's time in Romania is kind of bittersweet. The stuff of movies. He will relate it to you often. You just gotta nod your head and go along with it. And if he ever tells you something that you know is incorrect, gently explain what really happened to him. It's important to remind him of the truth. I think it helps."

Taking a bite of her burger, she quickly grabbed for a napkin as an unsightly dribble of grease trickled down her chin. She always managed to bungle her first impressions. "May I ask what are the care requirements for Paul?"

Bojana held up her finger, signaling for her to wait until she finished chewing. After a hard swallow and a sip of soda, Ms. Ionescu laid out the details. "Showers on Sundays. Don't worry about the rest of the week, the visiting nurse takes care of that. Get his meals when you're with him, make sure he has something prepared for dinner. Take him shopping if need be. Otherwise, your main objective is to provide companionship. It gets boring sitting at home alone, and he needs some stimulation if he's going to keep his mind as sharp as it can be."

"What does your dad like?"

Bojana chuckled, spearing a piece of lettuce with her fork. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He's congenial don't get me wrong, but he was a sportsman in his day. But now that walking is no longer easy for him, going outside is not an option. So, he resigns himself to sitting in his recliner and listening to music. Even that irritates him at times. You'll need to play the game with him in order to get him to do anything. Just a warning."

She looked down at her plate. She wasn't a socially outgoing person by nature. She could be if a situation required it. But only so many talking points could be generated per interaction. And from Bojana's description of her father, he was not a conversational man either.

Scraping her fork across the bottom of her salad bowl, Bojana ran her tongue across her teeth before speaking. "So, what do you say? Are you down to meet my father?"

She nodded, a hint of trepidation gurgling in her stomach. She was never confident when it came to new jobs. But the rent was due in two weeks and Mr. Ionescu didn't seem like too high maintenance of a person to care for. Perhaps she would luck out and he would sleep the entire time. "I can visit this Saturday."

Bojana nodded, a pleased smile spreading across her face. "Perfect! This is just a meeting to see if he can tolerate you. He is unaware of why you'll be visiting him and has blatantly refused the idea of an aide in the past, so please, do not mention the real reason why we are hiring you."

She bobbed her headup and down, feeling as if it were the only thing she knew how to do. ThankfullyBojana was chatty enough to fill the rest of their meal with conversation,leaving her to eat her meal in almost mindless silence.