The Men Next Door

Ch 25 - Campbell

Working out my holiday travel plans was a little more difficult that year, with Grandpa Jones living in his new assisted living community.

I knew I was going to see him. That much wasn't up for debate. All of our traditions lived inside the house that I'd practically grown up in, though, and I didn't know if they had quietly disappeared when the property was sold.

Usually, we'd set up the Christmas tree right after Thanksgiving dinner, with my grandpa telling outlandish stories about where he got all the eclectic ornaments. Then, I'd sleep on the couch under the frosted lights while he tried to sneak a stocking onto the mantle without waking me up. It was the same thing we'd done every year when my dad was alive and, thanks to Grandpa's interference, the same thing we'd done every year since.

But that year, as I made my way back to Santa Barbara at the end of November, I wasn't sure what to expect.

It was my first time visiting since he'd moved into the community, and when I arrived, the apartments all looked identical: one story units in rows of five, all connected like townhouses, with stark white exteriors and burnt orange Spanish-style roofs. I was glad for the comically large numbers on the front of each door, and as I pulled out my phone to double-check the address, I heard my grandpa's voice blare out through his video doorbell.

"Oh, happy day! You're here!"

I let go of the handle on my suitcase to wave to the small camera, and moments later, he was yanking me into a hug. I was slightly startled by how frail he felt around the shoulders, but I attributed it to not seeing him for over six months. He was probably that thin the last time I saw him too, right?

"Hi, Grandpa," I greeted once he finally let me through the doorway. 'Empty' was the only word I could use to describe the space behind him, although he'd decorated it to the nines. It just didn't have half the amount of character as his old home, with its plain white walls and high-tech appliances. It never could've measured up. Even so, I told him, "Everything looks nice. The whole town seems brand new. Are you still liking it?"

"It's lovely, Campbell, but...I don't think it will ever feel like home," he admitted, shaking his head in an obvious attempt to shoo his negative thoughts away. "It was for the best, though. Moving here. I know that. I couldn't keep up with the house anymore, and it's good to be around other people." He perked up a bit, looking out the window over my shoulder. "I'll have to introduce you to some of my neighbors later on."

"I would love that," I said, wandering around the apartment like a lost puppy. I'd seen the virtual tour before he settled on this community, and he'd video chatted me from every room after he moved in, but being there in person was a different experience. I could see things I'd never noticed, like the grab bars in the bathroom and the slip resistant mats by the kitchen sink and stove. Things that reminded me of his declining health and old age. "I'm glad you're making friends."

"And what about you? Are you making friends in the big city?"

"I am," I assured him, despite the fact that we'd already talked about each of them, including Jenkins, on the phone. The lapses in memory he'd been having left me feeling even more anxious than the frail hug and the decor, but I tried my best to ignore it as I continued on. "I met a girl named Addy in a coffee shop, and we've gotten pretty close. And my two next door neighbors, Luca and Brooks, are both very nice."

"As long as Addy doesn't turn out like Vera, then I'm happy," he said.

I didn't miss the unspoken meaning, but Vera wasn't worth bickering about—especially when my grandpa's opinions were never going to change. So I let the sleeping dogs lie and steered the conversation in a less contentious direction. "Let me tell you more about my neighbors before we get dinner."