NECESSARY MEASURES

by Alexander, Hannah

  “As little as possible. I’m sorry but we always fight over Dad.”

  “Does she seem forgetful?”

  “What does that even mean? I’m forgetful. I called Patrick by the dog’s name the other day.”

  “I’m serious.”

  There was a sigh. “What can we do?”

  “I’ve made an appointment with a neurologist,” he said. “I doubt she’ll cooperate but I hope to be able to convince her how important this is. We’ll need to run some tests.”

  “What kinds of tests?”

  He closed his eyes. “At least a CT scan. It could be Alzheimer’s or some other kind of dementia.”

  “But both of us live so far away from her. What can we do to help her?”

  “I’m not asking you to do anything at this point but I thought you needed to know.” Had he made a mistake when he moved to Dogwood Springs? How could he have left his mother alone in the city?

  “You know Mom wouldn’t let me do anything for her,” Rita said at last.

  “Try harder. If this is what I think, it’s hitting her fast. I didn’t notice a problem last time I was up here and that was just three months ago. Maybe I’ve been living in my own busy world lately but I would think I’d have noticed this kind of forgetfulness. She asked me the same question seven times last night.”

  They spoke for a few more moments before saying goodbye.

  A shadow moved in the hallway. Grant looked up to see Mom’s familiar shape outlined by incoming neon. He felt a chill spread through his gut.

  She stepped into the living room and switched on the lamp beside the sofa. “What are you supposed to talk to me about? What are you and Rita up to?”

  ***

  “Speaking of romance,” Brooke said, breaking the silence after an amazing ten-minute reprieve, “I finally figured out who this Todd guy is that Levi and Cody were talking about the other day. What do you think of Gina’s little fling with him, Lauren?”

  Awkward silence filled the car until Lauren cleared her throat. “It’s uncomfortable.”

  “Hasn’t anybody warned her about the dangers of messing around with the wrong person?” Brooke asked.

  Beau groaned aloud. “Brooke, can’t you wait and talk about this kind of stuff when I’m not stuck in the car with you?”

  She never minded embarrassing him. “I’m always trying to talk my friends at school out of sex. They don’t listen.”

  “No one said anything about sex,” Lauren said softly.

  “As if she’d tell you,” Brooke said. “And it’s like”—Beau heard Brooke’s characteristic slap of her forehead with the palm of her hand—”get some brains! And they always break up. It isn’t like they’re making any kind of commitment even when they say they are. And when they get pregnant? They come crying to me. Right, like I had something to do with it? And I’ve learned I’m never supposed to call it a baby when they’re talking about ‘getting it taken care of.’ But I don’t care. I call it what it is.”

  Beau rolled his eyes. His sister was never afraid to speak her thoughts. Her brazen honesty was one of Brooke’s more dependable qualities. At least he seldom had to guess what she was thinking—except for this project with Evan.

  “Brooke, are you sure they don’t listen?” Lauren asked. “Ever?”

  “Afterward.” Brooke snorted. “Like it’s going to do them any good for me to say ‘I told you so.’ “

  “I hope you never tell them that.”

  “She tells me that all the time,” Beau said. “When she thinks she’s right.”

  “I just hold them when they come crying to me afterward.”

  “Then maybe they learn eventually,” Lauren said. “Maybe your words touch them in the long run.”

  “Nobody ever said anything to me about it,” Brooke said. “So. Are you sure Gina hasn’t...you know...been stupid with that cheating creep?”

  Beau groaned. “Brooke—”

  “I’m not talking to you. It’s the latest hot topic for Fiona Perkins and you know how she spreads it at the hospital.”

  “That’s what they’re saying?” Beau asked.

  “Yes, but who’s more likely to know the truth, Fiona Perkins or Lauren McCaffrey, Gina’s best friend?”

  Lauren slumped in her seat. “Some best friend I am.”

  “You’d better pray hard for Gina,” Brooke said.

  “Thank you, Pastor Sheldon,” Beau said. “Do you mind if we change the subject now?”

  Brooke gave a heavy sigh and sank back into her seat. Asking Brooke to shut up was cruel punishment and he knew she felt strongly about what she said. She’d had a friend in their school in St. Louis whose father had an affair with a woman at work. It had destroyed something vital in that family and they’d never been the same since.

  Just like Grandma and Grandpa Sheldon.

  ***

  Grant sat in the lamp light of his mother’s living room, staring at the constant reflection of the green-and-purple neon sign that flashed from the convenience store across the street through the filmy curtain of the bay window. He riffled through his mind for some believable explanation that wouldn’t be hurtful but also wouldn’t be a lie.

  He couldn’t think of anything.

  Mom sat in the rocking chair facing him waiting for a reply. At this moment, of course, her mind seemed sharp and clear.

  “Mom, what do you think about moving out of this house?”

  She blinked at him, lips in a straight line. “Is that what you were talking to Rita about?”

  “Not exactly but it’s something we will want to discuss before long.”

  “Why?” That same uncompromising line.

  “Because things have changed since Rita and I grew up here. All the old neighbors have moved out. Your new ones aren’t as friendly or as helpful.”

  “I have friends at the senior center and I can still drive wherever I need to go. I can take care of myself. Just because you don’t want to live here anymore doesn’t mean I’m leaving.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why are you all of a sudden so worried about my neighbors? And why are you gossiping about it to Rita?”

  “I’m not gossiping, Mom. It’s just that we’re...we want you to be safe. This isn’t a safe neighborhood anymore.”

  “And you think I’d be better off somewhere else?” Her gray eyes narrowed and she leaned forward in her chair. “You’re not talking about a retirement home!”

  “What would be wrong with that?”

  She gasped. “Shipping your mother off to live with a bunch of strangers just because you feel guilty that you and your kids don’t want to be around me anymore?”

  She could have kicked him in the stomach and it wouldn’t have hurt as much. What made it so painful was that he could not avoid the fact that her trouble began after he and his kids moved away. “I called Rita because I’m worried about your health. I’d like you to make a visit to a doctor I know about.”

  “What kind of a doctor?” She started rocking back and forth in her chair, short bursts of restless energy almost as if she knew what was coming next.

  “She’s a neurologist.”

  “You think I’ve got a nerve problem?”

  “I think you might be having trouble with short-term memory.” He took a deep breath. This was harder than he’d ever dreamed it would be. “I’d like to make sure your health is okay and then I think the doctor will want to run some tests.”

  “For what?” She rocked faster, no longer making eye contact but staring blindly out the window.

  “It could be any number of things, Mom.”

  “What test?” The rocking stopped but she still didn’t look at him.

  “Among other things, I would want her to screen you for Alzheimer’s.”

  She deflated like a hot-air balloon that had been blasted out of the sky.

  “That doesn’t mean it’s what you have,” he said quickly. “There are many other possibilities, especially since the onset of Alzheime
r’s isn’t usually this sudden.”

  She covered her face with her hands.

  He knelt in front of her chair. “Mom, the smoke alarm scared me. And there’ve been times in the past couple of days when you didn’t remember that Annette is gone. Please help me find out what’s wrong so we can take measures to fix it.”

  She uncovered her face and looked at him. Tears dripped down her cheeks. “I’m getting older but I’m not useless yet.”

  “Of course you aren’t.”

  “Fine. Run the tests. Just don’t farm me out to some nursing home.”

  He hated the sound of fear in her voice but was surprised she’d given in so quickly. This wasn’t like her, which meant she’d been aware of this problem and obviously worrying about it for a while now.

  “I’m not farming you out anywhere. I’ve already spoken with this doctor. She’s a friend of Jay’s and she promised to make some time in her schedule to fit you in while I’m here.” He felt a great urge to get home but Mom needed him. She wouldn’t accept Rita’s help. In the past she had been reluctant to listen to anyone but her “doctor son.”

  She couldn’t continue to live alone under these conditions but before he made any further decisions he wanted to talk to his children. They had a right to know that their lives might once again be turning upside down.

  ***

  Beau drove in comfortable silence past a tiny town with abundant Christmas lights around the welcome sign. There was a manger scene on the front yard of the courthouse. This year he’d barely noticed the passing of Halloween before Thanksgiving had arrived and now they were racing toward Christmas.

  With all the lights and music blaring at him every time he stepped into a store, he sometimes felt like a pre-ghost-experience Scrooge. It had been that way for the past two Christmases.

  “Dad would never have had an affair on Mom,” Brooke muttered, obviously unable to remain silent any longer. “They had a great marriage. Isn’t that right, Beau?”

  “Yes. He worked a lot but when he wasn’t at work he was home with us.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” Lauren said quietly.

  “He was a good husband,” Brooke added.

  “Of course he was.”

  “And he’s a good father,” Brooke continued. “He isn’t one of those strong silent types. He knows how to express his love.”

  Lauren sighed. “I know that, Brooke. Remember? We’re friends. I know your father. We’re not talking about a stranger.”

  “And he would be a good husband again.”

  Lauren glanced over her shoulder at Brooke and then sighed again. “Are you finished with the sales pitch?”

  “I wasn’t giving a—”

  “You two need to understand that no one will ever fill your mother’s place in his life or yours.”

  “But—”

  “Anyone else would come with a different set of values, habits, likes, and dislikes. It would be awkward and uncomfortable and it would never be what you had before.”

  Beau waited for more argument from Brooke. None came. Lauren straightened in her seat and repeated the expressive sigh once more. The silence lingered as Beau turned onto the highway that would snake through the final stretch of Ozark hills and valleys that led home.

  He glanced at one set of colored lights in the front yard of a farmhouse and he blinked and looked at it again. Someone had parked a tractor there and had outlined it with Christmas lights.

  “But you don’t try to take Mom’s place,” Brooke said at last. “I used to be afraid that Dad might start dating someone who would be jealous of Mom’s memory. Even of us. I wouldn’t worry about that with you.”

  Lauren didn’t reply.

  “I thought you cared about us.”

  “Stop with the guilt trip,” Lauren said.

  “You and Dad are a perfect match, you know.”

  “How can you know that?”

  “Because you understand him so well. And you’ve been through some of the same things.”

  “I’ve never been married.”

  “You’ve lost someone you loved.”

  “Most people my age have lost someone dear to them.”

  Brooke huffed. “You’re not making this easy.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not letting you or anyone else talk me into doing something that could have a major impact on my life, your life, and other lives for the rest of our lives.”

  “But what if I’m right?”

  “What if you’re wrong?”

  “Lauren, you’ve got to see things from Brooke’s perspective,” Beau said, despite his determination to stay out of the argument. “How many women do you think Dad’s going to meet who already understand the hazards of knowing Brooke? And your family actually likes her. I mean, how rare is that?”

  Brooke smacked him on the shoulder. “Beau, I’m trying to be serious.”

  “I’m being serious.”

  “If you can’t help me, keep your mouth shut.”

  They rode in brooding silence for several moments and Beau was glad. He wanted to concentrate on the road that twisted and curved between the flicker of forest shadow and the light of an almost-full moon that had finally made its way from behind the clouds. He saw the stop sign at Highway 65 south of Branson and eased on the brake.

  “Is there anything wrong with the friendship we already have?” Lauren asked.

  “Nothing,” Beau said. “It’s great.”

  “Then maybe we shouldn’t confuse the issue right now. And while we’re talking about your father I need to ask you a favor. Unless he specifically asks, would you please not tell him about Hardy’s death just yet?”

  “Why?” Beau asked.

  “Because he has enough to worry about right now without dumping my problems on him. The news can wait until he comes home. He didn’t know Hardy that well.”

  “Don’t you think that’s kind of deceitful?” Brooke asked.

  “I didn’t tell you to lie, I asked you not to bring it up in conversation. He’s under a lot of pressure right now and he doesn’t need more.”

  “I think that’s a little cold, Lauren.” Brooke was obviously still irritated by Lauren’s reluctance to talk marriage. “My father can make his own decisions about how to handle the news.”

  Lauren sighed and sat back. “I guess you’re right. Sorry.”

  “Actually, our family usually operates with a bit of secrecy,” Beau said. “Mom and Dad started doing that years ago. Mom took care of everything at home because Dad was so busy at work and so I guess he never realized how busy she always was. Dad never told her about the bad stuff that happened to him at work.”

  Brooke leaned forward. “So Lauren, I guess that means you’d be a perfect addition to our family.”

  Chapter 17

  At eleven-thirty Monday morning Beau pulled a chair from beneath a table in the high school commons area, where the aromas of institutional cheese and frying beef floated through the air with cloying heaviness. He placed his own paper-wrapped lunch parcel on the table and breathed a particularly passionate prayer of thanks for a father who had taught him how to cook and who believed in organic, gourmet fare. Beau loved cheese but the stuff the school used made him gag.

  He unwrapped his sandwich and opened a bottle of apple juice. He’d also packed Lauren’s lunch for her today. She’d appreciated it. After their intense conversation about her and Dad on the drive back from the McCaffrey farmhouse, he and Brooke had done everything they could think of to express their sympathy about Hardy’s death—and to prove to Lauren that living with them wouldn’t be a hardship on her.

  “Hamburgers again.” Evan smacked his tray onto the table and jerked out the chair across from Beau then leaned over and looked at Beau’s food with a predatory gleam. “I want to move in with you. What kind of sandwich is that?”

  Beau hovered over it protectively. “Free-range turkey with goat cheese on a multigrain roll with roasted garlic spread.”

  Evan e
dged his tray toward Beau. “Want my spinach? It’s healthy.”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a nice greasy hamburger dipped in saturated fat? It won’t make your breath smell like garlic all afternoon.”

  “I want to smell like garlic. It keeps the girls away.”

  Evan slumped into his chair. “Figures. You have to use garlic repellent to keep them away. I, on the other hand, have the talent to scare them off with just one glance from my beady eyes.”

  Beau bit into his sandwich, shaking his head at Evan’s usual lunchtime banter. He had just completed his first taste when he caught the sound of someone shouting at the other end of the commons.

  “Tell you what,” Evan continued. “You pack a lunch for me every day and I’ll give you twice what I pay for my lunch—”

  There was another shout, this time closer, and Beau raised a hand to silence Evan. “What was that?”

  Evan frowned and turned to look behind him. Several junior high kids came running into the commons area from the far hallway. Brooke was with them. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with horror.

  Beau put down his sandwich.

  Evan shoved his chair back and jumped up. “Brooke, over here!”

  She saw them and plunged through the mob, stumbling past tables and shoving aside chairs. Her cheeks were flushed. She paused to catch her breath when she reached Beau and Evan.

  “The kids said Oakley Brisco just collapsed downstairs!”

  “Oakley?” Evan squeaked.

  “In the junior high rec room.”

  Beau scooted his chair back. “Just now?”

  “Yes!” She turned to Evan. “Did you hear me? It’s Oak. They need to know. We’ve got to tell somebody.”

  “Has an ambulance been called?” Beau asked.

  “Yes and someone’s doing CPR.”

  Beau jumped from his seat and pushed his way through the crowded hallway where classmates huddled in groups, whispering shocked questions at one another. Oakley Brisco, a skinny eighth grader he’d seen in the principal’s office a couple of times, was popular and excelled in sports. Beau had heard he lived with his grandfather. So what had happened to him?