Presence

by Maureen McHugh

  “I don't know,” he says. “Maybe I want to be a therapist. I think I want to help people.”

  Help me, she thinks. But then she squashes the thought. He is here, he is getting better. He is not squatting in the hollyhocks. She's not afraid of him anymore. And if she doesn't love him like a husband anymore, well, she still loves him.

  “What was that boy's name?” Gus says, squinting down the street.

  He means the home health.

  For a moment she can't think and her insides twist in fear. It has started happening recently, when she forgets she feels this sudden overwhelming fear. Is it Alzheimer's?

  “William,” she says. “His name is William.”

  “He was a nice boy,” Gus says.

  “Yes,” Mila says, her voice and face calm but her heart beating too fast.

  * * *

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