Finding West by June Gray Page A

better if I said you had a nice package?”
    “No,” he said. “You hurt its feelings. Now kiss it better.” He looked over his shoulder on the way out of the room and chuckled at my shocked expression. “I’m kidding, Kat.”
    Kidding or not, now the image was stuck in my head. Damn him.
     
    A while later we arrived at the town of Cormack, which was only slightly bigger in size than Ayashe but had a much higher population count.
    “Was that the prison where your dad is? The one we passed a mile back?” my passenger asked as I pulled into the nursing home parking lot.
    “Yep, that’s the place.” I got out of the car, not in the mood to talk about my dad.
    “So this town has a prison and a nursing home?” he asked as he followed me to the door. “How…”
    “Sad?” I offered, walking inside the lobby like I’d done a few times before. “It’s the town where people are sent against their will.”
    He scrunched his eyes then, thinking about something.
    “What is it?”
    “I think… I think my grandma is in a nursing home or some sort of assisted living center.”
    My eyes widened, my heart beat double time. “You remember something?” I asked, silently pleading that he was just mistaken, that he was just remembering something on television last night.
    His ey es met mine and I knew that wasn’t the case. “Yes,” he breathed.
    “But does that mea—”
    We were interrupted by the orderly who came out of big double doors. “Merry Christmas, Kat,” he said. “Come on in.”
    “What ar e we doing here?” the stranger asked in a low voice as we followed the orderly inside the badge-operated doors. “Do you have a relative here?”
    “No, we’ re volunteering,” I said, enjoying the look of surprise that crossed over his face. “What?” I asked after a few moments of being stared at.
    “I just didn’t take you for a volunteering kind of girl.”
    “I volunteered to keep you from becoming an icicle, didn’t I?”
    He nudged me with his elbow. “ You know what I mean,” he said. “You’re just… let’s just say people who volunteer at nursing homes are usually the friendly type.”
    “I’m friendly,” I said, pinning a visitor badge to my sweater. “And warm and fuzzy.”
    “As warm and fuzzy as a cactus.”
    I laughed. Yes, that about summed me up.
     

 
     
     
    12
     
    STRANGER
     
     
     
    After handing our coats to the orderly, Kat and I entered a large room full of elderly people, most of whom were in wheelchairs or wingback chairs. Some people sat around a widescreen television watching A Christmas Story , while others sat staring into space or out the window. Even with all of the twinkle lights, wreaths and other Christmas decorations around the room, I couldn’t help but feel the inherent loneliness of the place. I supposed it was why Kat volunteered here, because she too had an innate loneliness about her.
    “So what would you like to do?” she asked.
    I looked around and had absolutely no clue where to begin. “What do you usually do?”
    “I usually read to a few of them, or play a board game. Or sometimes I just sit and talk with them.”
    I looked around the room, still unsure of where to start. “So I just walk up to someone and strike up a conversation?”
    “Basically.” Her blue eyes flew to my face, a slight tug at the corners of her mouth. “But I’m guessing the females will be more receptive to your brand of charm.”
    I held her gaze for a long time, feeling something electric passing between us. “Kat, I’d still like to talk about what happened last night.”
    “Well I don’t,” she said, turning away, leaving me standing by myself among these strangers.
    I let out a huff through my nose and approached an older lady in a wheelchair. She lit up when she saw me crouch by her side.
    “Hi,” I said. “Merry Christmas.”
    “ Oh!” she said, grabbing me by the cheeks without hesitation. For a moment, I wondered if she recognized me, but