True Short Story. Let me know if this touches you? "I have a daughter?"

[Queen NaTasha "B"]

Desiree pushed the six-digit code on the keypad and entered through the heavy doors. Desiree clutched her Nordstrom bag cramped with new garments she brought for her mother, hoping it would ease the guilt she felt each time she stepped foot in the door. Her fancy heels tapped hard against the cold tile as her linen suit swayed from her graceful walk. She approached the nurses’ station smiling to everyone she passed.
As always the nurses greeted her and rushed off quickly to get her mother. Desiree stood patiently and took a deep breath. She looked around the unit. Soft piano music played from afar.
The unit was always kept tidy and clean. She was pleased with the smell and the kind staff. She felt a sense of relief; she picked the right place for her mother. Desiree needed reassurance, every time she had to write the check for $5,200 a month. Only the best for her mother. She stared at a few other residents pacing up and down the hallways.
A smile crept on Desiree face as the nurse brought her mom out of the activity room. Her mother was still beautiful at 78 years old; it was hard to believe she was that old. With just a few strands of gray hair and a very small petite, frail frame. She could easily pass for a woman in her fifties. Desiree held tears back happy to see her mother as if it had been years. Desiree visited every Sunday like clockwork.
“Hey momma. It’s so good to see you.” They embraced in a tight hug. No responds from her mother. Desiree grabbed her mother’s hand firmly. “Let’s go too your room. I have some things for you.”
“Okay.” Her mother whispered.
“Just let, us know if you need anything.” The nurse blurted out. Desiree made her way down the long hallway with her mother.
“Your grandson Xavier really wanted to come see you today mom, but he went camping this weekend. I have some pictures I want to show you to. I still can’t believe he’ll be a senior in high school, next month. Trent sends his love too.”
“Trent?” Desiree mother questioned looking up at her.
“My husband momma. Trent.” Desiree mother smiled shaking her head as if she understood.
“Did Otis come?” Desiree sighed as they entered the bedroom. Not sure how to respond. Otis, Desiree father had been dead for more than five years.
“No momma he didn’t come. Have a seat momma. Let’s me show you what I brought you.” Desiree said cheerfully trying to change the subject. Desiree pulled out new items from her Nordstrom bag, new under garments, slippers in her mother favorite color red.
“Oh thank you. That’s for me?”
“Yes momma it’s for you.”
“I love red.”
“I know.” Desiree made her way over to her mother’s closet checking her clothes organizing her things. She checked over the bathroom, making sure she had all her toiletries. Then she sank next to her on the bed. Where her mother sat quietly patting the bed.
“Thank you for my things. I love red.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” Desiree pulled the mini photo album she always brought when she visited her mother out of her Fendi purse. Those old photos of when her mother was in her prime always got a smile out oh her. They glanced through the photos of her child hood home in Texas and her mothers wedding photos. Desiree parents had been married over forty years when her father passed.
“Where’s Otis?”
“He’s…he’s not here momma.” Her mom stood up slowly from the bed going over to the window.
“I like it here. Tell Otis I like it here. The people are real nice. And I love when you come visit babe.” Desiree followed her mom over to the window.
“I’m glad you like it here.” It had been five months since Desiree had placed her mother in the Alzheimer’s living community. After two years of caring for her mother on her own, she could no longer handle taking care of her mother, balancing a career as a CPA and raising her teenage son. Still she felt guilty in many ways.
After a long visit Desiree had the nurse walk her and her mother to the door. One last embrace and hug with her mother.
“I love you mom. I’ll see you next week.”
“Okay baby. I love you too.” Desiree felt a sense of relief that her mother responded cheerfully.
“Okay, Let’s go this way, Mrs. Kelly.” The nurse said as Desiree exited.
Mrs. Kelly grabbed the nurse’s arm tightly leaning over whispering.
“Who was that nice lady? She was so nice. She brought me nice things. Who was she?”
The nurse’s heart sank as she grabbed Mrs. Kelly’s hand and led her back to the activity room. She hated this part of her job.
“That’s was your daughter Mrs. Kelly.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Kelly responded. “I have a daughter?”

[Brent Mason]

Hello Queen.

I like your story. It is descriptive to the point I am entering a clinic and looking around a hospital type setting. Is this it? I think a short story needs to be a certain length. But then again I've never written a short story so I could be way off.

I would add other elements such as the name of the facility, unless the title is the Alzheimer's living community such as "Living Community." Also may wish to add to the mother's physical issue if there are any other than memory troubles. Is she slow in movement? stiff? good walk?

Also a couple of grammatical errors, "Let’s go too your room," should be "to" and Desiree father needs an apostrophe 's after her name (Desiree's father) the same can be said on a couple of other possessive phrases. But I really enjoyed this piece. Where are you going with it? I notice that there is a lot of money spent on her mother's behalf. They must make some Donald Trump bank. Is it a message of being rich and bold at the same time taking stock of how you are raised? Interesting subject in Alzheimers as well. Wish you the best with this short.

-Brent
Portentum: Africa Reborn