Loving Neil

by Ronald Bagliere

  “Did you?” he replied in a level tone. “How is she?”

  “She asked about you,” Janet said, carefully gauging his expression. She knew Nate better than anyone, but in the matter of Jessica, she had no clue. She went on. “I told her you were coming home for Christmas.”

  “That’s nice.” The automatic doors of the terminal slipped open and they walked through into the cold, crisp air. “So, is Jumpin’ Jimmy’s still open? I’m starved.”

  She smiled. At least that hadn’t changed.

  They stopped and grabbed a couple of burgers. As she pulled back onto the highway, Nate peppered her with questions about his father, and as she drove, she told him what the doctor had said.

  “I decided not to have your father tested right away,” she said. “If I do, and it’s you know what, the doctor will have to tell him.”

  Nate pursed his lips and looked out his passenger side window. The only sound in the car for some time was the heater rustling the paper under his burger. Finally, he spoke up. “So you’re gonna keep it a secret from him?”

  She felt his eyes on her as the rolling, brown fields slipped past their windows. She knew he didn’t know how she felt about secrets, but it didn’t matter. She felt as if she’d been slapped across the face. “It’s not a secret, Nate,” she said more forcefully than she intended. “And we don’t know for sure right now. No one does. And I don’t see the point of putting him through it; believing he’s going to end up like your grandma did.”

  Nate crumpled his burger wrapper and tossed it in the bag their food had come in. “It’s okay, Mom, I understand. What’s Megan think of it?”

  “She doesn’t know, and she doesn’t need to know right now, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “Oh, guess what? You’re grandfather’s moving in with us.”

  “Really? When?” Nate said, brightening.

  “Next week.”

  He sucked the last of his soda up through the straw. “Because of Dad?”

  “Some, not all. You’re grandfather isn’t exactly a youngster anymore.”

  They were quiet a minute. He said, “It’s hard to believe.”

  “What?”

  “Dad. I just never thought…”

  “I know. I’ve been praying it won’t happen, but it appears it’s going to, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.” She paused. “I love your father more than anything in this world.” Blinking, she rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I’m doing the best I can.”

  “I know, Mom.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw him turn his lips into a crooked smile. “It’s funny, most of my life, I thought Dad was this timeless wizard, scrutinizing everything. Sometimes it felt like no matter what I did it was never good enough. Then one day I realized, he wasn’t criticizing me, he was teaching me to think things through. Because of him, I feel like I can handle anything now.”

  Janet swallowed and took a deep breath. And you are both amazing. “I love you.”

  He flashed a quick smile then sighed. “How bad is he?”

  She patted his arm. “You’ll see for yourself … Nate?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What happened between you and Jess? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want, but I’d–”

  “I know,” he said, cutting her off. He stuffed his empty soda cup in the bag and shrugged. “I’ll be okay.”

  Janet nodded, and forced herself to let go of trying to fix him.

  Nate cleared his throat. “It’s good to be home.”

  Janet finished setting the table for Christmas dinner when Megan and Brad arrived. It had been over a year since Megan took Brad back after catching him fooling around. He took his jacket off and handed it to Megan and sauntered into the room like he owned the place.

  Janet suppressed the urge to let him know his kingdom was seventy miles north as she folded a napkin. My, what style you have, you overgrown butterball. Those tight fitting Dockers and that plunging v-neck sweater must really get the gals all in a lather.

  Brad plopped down on the couch in front of the TV next to Nate. “Hey, kid, how’s it going? Must be good being back home away from all those towel heads, eh?”

  Janet saw Nate take a deep breath. “Things are fine.”

  “Right,” Brad said. “So, Seahawks still ahead, or they blow another lead?”

  “Still ahead,” Nate said, getting to his feet. He strode over to Megan, hanging her jacket up in the closet, and put his arms around her. “Hey, sis. Merry Christmas.

  “And a Merry Christmas, to you,” she replied.

  “And to you, too,” Janet added, stepping beside Megan. She nodded toward Brad then shot a questioning gaze at Megan.

  Megan shook her head. “So, where’s Dad?”

  “In the garage with my father. He bought him a new toy for the back yard.” Janet said, smiling as she thought about the two of them trying to figure out how to install the garden accent lighting.

  “I’m gonna go out to say hello,” Megan said, and headed for the mudroom.

  “So, Jan, how’s tricks?” Brad said from the couch.

  Janet frowned. Tricks? Right. You’re such a dick. “I’m fine,” she answered and called Cleo. “Come puppy, let’s go for a bathroom break.”

  Ten minutes later, a crisp December breeze was nipping at Janet’s face as Cleo wandered back and forth across the yard with his nose close to the ground. She zipped up her jacket, and as she walked with him, she tried to ignore the ominous knowledge that Neil was slowly moving away from her into a world in which she couldn’t follow.

  But it was Christmas so she had to suck it up and do her best to show nothing was wrong. Cleo trotted back on his leash line and looked up at her as if he knew she needed a friend. She bent down and ran her hand over the dog’s head and over his long floppy ears.

  “There you are,” Megan said, coming up behind her.

  “We needed a potty break,” Janet answered. “So how are they doing in there?”

  “Making a mess.” She rubbed her hands together, cupped her fingers and blew hot breath into them. “Is Dad all right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He seems different. Quiet. And when I asked him how it was going, he looked at me as if he didn’t know me for a second.”

  “Well, you know how he is when he gets involved in a project.”

  “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” She shrugged.

  “So, how bad are things with Brad?”

  Megan shook her head. “I should’ve never gone back.”

  Janet let the remark hang between them. Finally, she said, “You could always leave, you know.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t have a lot of options.” She rubbed her thumb and finger together and pursed her lips.

  Janet nodded. Her first impulse was to take the house her father had been renting off the market and give it to Megan but knew that wasn’t the answer. Megan would never take charity. “Have you looked into getting an attorney? There is such a thing as support, you know.”

  Megan looked off. “Yeah, I know. I just hate the thought of going through all that shit.” She took a couple of steps ahead, looked out over the fields running behind the house and turned around. “If you were me, what would you do?”

  The sound of clacking tree branches filled the silence between them. Janet said, “Let’s walk.”

  They skirted the flowerbeds, to the meandering stream running through the property. “I can’t tell you what to do,” Janet said as Cleo pulled at his leash, “but you have the right to be treated decently. You’re not a maid.”

  Megan paused and knotted her brow. “Did you and Dad ever have real bad times where you thought maybe … well you know.”

  “We had our moments,” Janet admitted. “But your Dad always treated me like a person, and I always knew he loved me, even when we shouted at each other.”

  “Brad just walks out of the house and comes back when he’s good and ready,” Megan said. “Most of the tim
e he’s tanked up when he returns. He’s not real nice then.”

  “He ever hit you?”

  “No, but I know he wanted to sometimes,” Megan said.

  Janet glanced at her watch. “Well, whatever you do, you have a place to go if you need it. We better get in. I’m cold, and I imagine the turkey’s about ready to come out of the oven.”

  “And Dad needs to get pried away from his new toy. Oh, your father mentioned he’s moving in with you guys. Is he all right?”

  “He’s fine,” Janet said as they headed back. “He just finally decided to take us up on our offer. Seems he got tired of being alone.”

  25

  After Nate returned to Iraq, Janet settled in for the long winter months that spilled more rain than snow on the Willamette valley. The bleak gray days lumbered along at a dismal pace, as did her husband’s steady descent into himself. At least she had her father with them now. Though he was older than Neil, he was spry and alert, and lately he had assumed many of the tasks Neil had once done around the house. Most importantly, he watched over her husband when she was away on shoots.

  But William had his own problems. A loss of hearing in one ear frustrated him to no end. And then there had been the fight with prostate cancer at seventy, which he battled with radiation for three years only to end up having it removed anyway. A year later, he found out he was hyperglycemic. That led to a strict diet, which left him unhappy but determined.

  Janet was astonished at her father’s active lifestyle. He walked a mile each day, often in nasty weather after she got home from work, and attended a book club on Thursday afternoons, which raised her curiosity because he wasn’t fond of fiction. After a little question and answer session, she ratted the reason out of him. A certain retired and very attractive professor of English Lit, named Lillian Maguire, attended it. Janet found the thought of her father and another woman holding hands quite endearing.

  And, of course, there was golf, which happened to be in season now. He’d already been out four times, and during one of the rounds found out about a local gardening club from one of the members of the country club. The Green Jeans Club, which was run by a small group of retired men and women. It would be perfect for Neil to get him out and enjoy the sunshine, he had said.

  Initially, Janet hedged at the idea. Though Neil’s mind was still active and alert, he spoke less and less, and his Parkinson’s kept him in a state of constant movement. She asked Dr. Childe what he thought, and he agreed with her father, saying it was an excellent idea.

  So, on the strength of the doctor’s recommendation and the idea that Neil would enjoy the outdoors, say nothing of being out of her hair on Saturday mornings while she took care of household chores, she decided to go along.

  May 7, 2005 ‸‸ –

  Janet peeked out of Megan’s dining room window at the gray canvas of clouds clinging to the summit of Mount Hood and let the curtain fall back. In the other room, her father, Brad and Kyle watched the Mariners play on TV while Neil sat in the recliner next to them with a lazy smile creasing his thin and bearded face.

  Janet watched Megan eye her father as she spread the tablecloth over the dining room table and smoothed it out. Since business at the tiny gazette she worked for had been keeping her busy, she hadn’t seen her father since March. When she met him at the door, her eyes widened. And over the last hour, her glance had fallen Janet’s way more than once.

  She caught Janet’s attention and pointed deftly toward the deck. When they were outside, she said, “What’s going on with him?”

  Janet steeled herself. “Your father, he’s umm … he’s not the same man you saw at the St. Patty’s day parade, Meg.”

  Megan blinked and looked off. “He hardly recognized me. I don’t understand. How is this happening? Is it his Parkinson’s?”

  Janet swallowed hard. “No. There’s something else.”

  “What?”

  “The doctor believes it’s Alzheimer’s.”

  Megan’s face blanched. “Alzheimer’s?” she rasped. “Oh, my God.”

  Janet let her wrestle with that a moment, then said, “Yeah. It’s hard to diagnose.”

  Megan pressed her lips together and glanced toward the sliding glass door. “Does he…”

  “No,” Janet said, meeting her gaze. “And I don’t want him to know.”

  Megan nodded. “Right. So, what are you going to do?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know,” she said, thin lipped. “Ship him off to some old folks home when he gets to be too much? I’m sorry, Jan, I don’t mean to be unsympathetic, but it’s usually how it goes. My grandmother died in one of those places. I don’t remember much about her, but I remember going to see her. There were all these people just waiting around to die. In fact, they were dead. Their bodies just didn’t know it. I never want my father to go through that.”

  “And neither do I,” Janet said firmly. “Absolutely not. He will always have a place with me because he’s always been there for me. I won’t abandon him, I promise you.”

  “Thank you.” Megan turned back to the railing. “When I was sixteen, just after Mom died, I was having this really bad day. It started with a dumb teacher getting in my face, and when I got home from school, my brother started dissing my father saying how he let my Mom die; saying if the same thing happened to us, he’d walk away, too.”

  Megan snuffed and threw her hair back over her shoulder. “I called him a liar. Dad would never do that. Anyway, when Dad got home after work, Trev got into it with him.

  “I still remember Dad sitting on the porch after Trev stalked off. I had never seen my father cry before. He looked at me, and I wanted the world to go away. I wanted my mother back. I wanted things to be the way they were before the accident. Suddenly, every argument I ever had with my mom didn’t mean a thing. I would’ve given anything to have her back, to have my dad happy again. I don’t know how Trev could believe such stupid things. So, I guess you can see why I didn’t exactly feel like opening my arms up to dear old brother when he came waltzing in.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would be so hard for you.”

  “You could’ve asked. But, I know you meant well, and my dad was really happy. So I sucked it up, just like everything else. Anyway,” she said, “Dad was sitting there on the porch, and he just looked at me like I was his last friend in the world. Said, ‘What about you, pumpkin, you think your dad wanted to let your mom die?’ ”

  “I mean, what kind of question is that? I was only sixteen years old. I just looked at him, and my heart broke. Next thing I knew, he had his arms around me holding me tight. He said, ‘I’ll always be here for you, pumpkin. I’ll never go away and leave you alone.’ ”

  Her eyes watered. “But, now, he is going away, and even though I know he doesn’t want to, it doesn’t matter.” She wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand. “You got to be careful with promises.” She clenched her eyes tight. “Oh my God, I’m losing my dad.”

  Janet pulled Megan into her arms and held her. “Yes, we are.” She looked up at the brooding clouds. And it’s not fair.

  “Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Neil. Happy Birthday to you!” The family sang as Megan set the cake on the table in front of her father. He looked at the candle-lit cake with chocolate frosting with his name written across it in yellow icing and smiled.

  “Make a wish, Neil,” Janet encouraged.

  He turned his gaze on her, studying her as if she were his newlywed bride. Janet felt her throat tighten and saw Megan fighting tears. It was moments like these that pierced her heart. She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, felt his hand reach up and touch her fingers. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, “I love you, and you are beautiful. I have a wish. Blow the candles out and make it come true.”

  He patted her hand, and as his body moved of its own accord, bent forward and blew out the candles. Everyone clapped and a moment later plates w
ere being passed around with ice cream and cake. Janet set Neil’s plate in front of him and took a seat by his side. Eating was an adventure for her husband now and though she didn’t want to dote over him, she wanted to be nearby to help if he wanted it. He stabbed his cake with a fork, cut off a piece, and fought it to his mouth.

  As he dabbed his mouth with a napkin, he said, “Very good, Megan.”

  “Thank-you, Dad. Are you having a good time?”

  He nodded and focused on another piece. After several tries he got it to balance on his fork and into his mouth.

  Megan watched him. She hadn’t said anything during dinner while he struggled, Janet figured because her father was chatting her up. Now, Megan witnessed firsthand what her father went through every day. She moved to the other side of him and said, “You want help, Dad?”

  He looked up at her, frowned and set his fork down. “I’m fine.”

  Janet sighed. She knew Megan wanted to help, but what Megan didn’t know was her father’s need to do things on his own: eating especially. He never said–but Janet knew–if he couldn’t feed himself, it was over for him.

  Megan looked as if she had just been slapped across the face and she gave Janet a ‘what-did-I-say?’ expression. Janet shook her head and mouthed the words, ‘later.’ She took a bite of cake and waited for the awkward moment to pass. Lately, when something happened that bothered Neil, he would forget about it after a few minutes and carry on with whatever he was doing before. Megan got up and left the table, and Janet saw the hurt look on her face.

  When she felt Neil might be agreeable to a suggestion, she said, “Neil, honey, your ice cream’s melting.”

  He turned his head toward her, and his smile reappeared. “Oh, yes.”

  She pulled the bowl forward and saw her father give her a look from across the room. He slipped into the kitchen. He had not been blind to what had just happened.

  Neil picked up his spoon and dipped into his ice cream. “Chocolate.” After he had taken a bite, he said, “Where’s Megan?”

  “She went to the kitchen to take care of dishes.”