Sizzling by Susan Mallery

for the older
woman and slowly put her arms around her. Gloria clung to her, still
crying, her body shaking.

"I d-didn't mean for this to
happen," Gloria said between sobs. "I don't know what
h-happened. I was always difficult and demanding, but now I'm
horrible. I hear the things I say and I can't believe that's me
talking. I never meant to become so awful. Something happened. This
isn't me and it's not my fault. Nobody loves me. No one has ever
loved me. I'm alone and I'm going to die alone."

Lori
sucked in a breath. She felt like slime for having attacked Gloria,
yet she sensed this might be an important moment in the old woman's
life. She suspected that Gloria didn't allow herself much emotional
vulnerability or weakness, so how best to handle the
opportunity?

She considered several possibilities, then
decided to go for the truth. She waited until the tears subsided, sat
up, handed Gloria a box of tissues, then cleared her throat.

"You're
right," she said clearly, refusing to be sucked in by the still
flowing tears. "You are going to die alone."

Gloria's
eyes widened. "It's not true," she whispered.

"It
is true," Lori told her. "Look at how you act. Who would
want to care about you? You're dismissive of people's feelings. You
don't seem to ever do anything nice. You're mean and self-centered."
She lowered her voice and touched the other woman's arm. "But
you can change."

Gloria shook her head. "I can't. I
don't know how."

"You can and you do know how. You
don't want to— there's a difference. You're many things, but
you're not stupid. You remember what it's like to be human."

Her
patient stared at her. "No, I don't. Besides, what's the point?
You're saying I should be nice to people. To care about them. But
then they just take advantage of me. Besides, there are so many
idiots in the world."

"There's an attitude designed
to make you friends."

"I don't want
friends."

"Really? Then what was the water works
about? Come on, no one wants to be totally isolated. Everyone wants a
sense of belonging. You're old— you'll be dead soon. Don't you
want to be missed?"

Gloria opened her mouth, then closed
it. "I will not be dead soon."

"You will if you
don't get off your bony ass and focus on getting better."

Lori
braced herself for the screaming, or at the very least another threat
of firing. Instead tears filled Gloria's eyes again.

"I
don't want to die alone," she whispered. "I don't want them
to hate me. I want them to love me."

Lori hugged her
again. "I know you do. The best way to get love is to act
loving."

Gloria didn't answer. Instead she held on tight
for a long time before leaning back against her pillows. She wiped
her face, then said, "According to you, I shouldn't worry about
being taken advantage of. I won't be around long enough to
mind."

"That wasn't exactly what I meant, but if it
works for you, go for it."

"Do you really think I
can change?"

"If you want your life to be different.
It's entirely up to you. You have the power to do whatever you want.
Does this really matter? Do you want your grandchildren to love you
and miss you when you're gone?"

The old woman nodded
slowly. "Yes," she whispered. "I do."
    * * *
    AN HOUR LATER Gloria was sleeping and Lori escaped to the
living room to regroup. She felt as if she'd been run over by a
train.

Had she done the right thing, pushing Gloria? Would the
emotional upset impact the healing process? But if Gloria did manage
to change enough to reconnect with her family, wasn't that a good
thing?

Lori stood in front of the massive window that
overlooked the city and Puget Sound beyond. It was a rare clear day,
with the sky a color of blue that God grants only after weeks of
rain.

Maybe she'd been talking to herself as well as Gloria,
she thought, not sure she wanted to see the truth but unable to avoid
it. Maybe she needed to be a little less bitchy with her own family.
Not that she was bitchy with Madeline, but there was always that
damned ambivalence