by Kate Benson
My mind is reeling, my emotions all over the place as the last piece of me finally accepts the reality of losing my father.
We’ve spoken about him at length more than once. She’s expressed her condolences, whispered her sorrow to me since the day I got back. She knew he was gone, but in this moment, it’s almost as though it’s been wiped from her memory. I struggle internally to process Mary’s words while somewhere in the back of my mind, hours of scrolling through textbooks and articles comes back to haunt me.
She doesn’t remember.
Remnants of past conversations, her innocent memory slips echo back in my mind and for the first time, the harsh truth I want no part in knowing becomes obvious.
This has been coming for months and somehow, we didn’t see it.
It feels like I’m sobbing in the kitchen for hours, but it isn’t long until I hear the front door creaking open, the sound of Nate’s heavy work boots against the wooden floors.
“Ma?” he calls out, Rocky’s paws tapping along behind him as the door closes heavily. “I brought you some…” His voice trails off as he comes to a stop in the doorway of the kitchen, the plastic bag from the store falling into the chair beside me as he bends beside me. “Ava?” he starts, taking my hand. I know I have to look at him, but I also know the second I do, his life is going to be turned completely upside down, not far from how I’ve felt these last few months. “Baby, what’s the matter?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ava
“Nothing,” I lie, shaking my head as I swallow the rest of my tears and wipe my cheeks, taking a deep breath before I face him again. His green eyes are swimming with compassion, images of the way I’d behaved the night before combined with the onslaught of emotion I’m currently experiencing threatening to pull me under once more. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
His eyebrows furrow slightly as he grazes my cheek with his thumb, the fight I’ve been obsessing about all day the last thing on his mind.
“Why you cryin’?” he asks, gently sweeping the hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear.
He’s going to be heartbroken.
I’m about to answer him, to say what, I’m still not sure, when I hear Mary returning to the kitchen.
“Ava, sweetheart, I can’t find any tissues, but I’ve got a handkerchief here,” she says, her feet coming to a stop at the edge of the room. “Hi honey,” she says sweetly, his eyes moving from mine for a moment to give her a soft smile and silent hello. “Ava?”
“Thank you,” I manage. “I uh… I probably need to go ahead and get back.”
“Okay,” she nods, rubbing my arm and pulling me into her arms for a long and genuine hug. I hold her close, longer than needed, my tears coming back full force before she gently pulls away. “You let me know if you need anything, you hear?”
Unable to speak, I simply give her a nod and squeeze her hands in mine, storing this moment of heartache away and swallowing it with all the others that have come before it.
Once I’m home, I fall apart all over again despite my best efforts. I tried cowardly to make my way inside on my own, but it isn’t long until the soft sound of his heavy boots approaches me.
“Come here,” he whispers, pulling me close before winding his arms around me tightly. “Baby, I’m not sure what happened,” he starts, his lips pressing to my hair as he pulls me closer. “But I’m right here, okay?”
I nod silently once more, letting my tears dry before I finally pull away, scouring up the last of my bravery to face him.
“Do you want to talk?” he asks, his eyes sweet and soft as they stare intently into mine.
“Yeah,” I manage, reaching for his hand and squeezing it gently. “Yeah, I think we need to.”
“Okay,” he whispers, his eyes still studying my features as he gently sweeps the hair from my face. “What’s going on?”
“Come on,” I manage, leading him toward the couch and pulling him down beside me. I gaze at him, the low light of the sun setting behind us seeping in and hitting his brow just right, making his green eyes the color of emeralds. God, this is going to destroy him. “I don’t really know where to start.”
“Then you should start at the beginning.”
I do exactly as he asks, I start at the beginning, telling him everything that happened with his mom this afternoon. I go slow, giving him time to let it sink in, ask me questions, but nothing comes. Instead, he stares back at me, his eyes glistening slightly for a moment before he slowly shakes his head.
“You’re crazy,” he replies gently, the devastation in his eyes quickly replacing itself with resentment. “I mean, Alzheimer’s? You don’t think that’s a little far-fetched?”
“I know it’s hard to hear,” I sigh. “But I really think you need to have her checked out.”
“She doesn’t need to be checked out. Not for that.”
“Nate, I’ve wanted to be a nurse since I was five years old. I’ve studied this stuff my entire life…”
“She’s just getting older. Her memory’s starting to slip here and there, yeah, but that’s normal. It doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with her.”
“Nate,” I start, trying my best to keep my voice even as I hold his eyes and reach for his hand.
“Why are you doing this?” he cuts me off, the sensation of him pulling away from me cutting me deep. “Are you still pissed off about last night?”
“What? No. It’s got nothing to do with…”
“Then what the fuck, Ava?” he asks, this time, his green eyes narrowed with anger. “Why would you tell me something like that?”
“I wouldn’t if I didn’t think it was something serious,” I reply. “And if it had been almost anything else, I probably wouldn’t have said anything now, but…”
“You’re wrong,” he shakes his head, turning away from me to gaze out the window that faces her house.
“Baby, she’s showing all the signs.”
“Then why haven’t her doctors said shit to me about it?” he counters, raking his palm over his jaw as he turns to face me. “She’s had three appointments in the last month alone, Ava. If she had something wrong with her, don’t you think they’d have said something to me by now?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Maybe… maybe they just haven’t looked at this? And maybe if they did, they’d find whatever they’re looking f-”
“Or maybe you had one fucked up conversation with her and are completely over-fucking-reacting,” he cuts me off, his harsh accusation making me flinch as he turns away from me.
“That’s not it,” I shake my head, my chest aching deep. He still refuses to give me his eyes, but I don’t have to see them to know he’s upset, fighting the emotion building in his own chest like a wildfire. “Nate, you’ve been saying for weeks that she’s becoming more forgetful, getting her days mixed up…”
“Look, she just gets confused. She does that sometimes. Stuff slips her mind and she doesn’t remember, but she’s fine.”
“This wasn’t just a routine slip,” I reply softly, taking the step that separates me from him and gently grazing his skin with my fingertips. “She asked about my father.”
He pulls away from me once more, this time yanking his arm away from me with enough force to have me shrinking into myself. He glances over at me, a shimmer of guilt hiding behind his eyes before he covers it, clearing his throat.
“If you’re still upset about last night and want to fight with me about that, that’s one thing, Ava,” he says low, raking his palm over his jaw in annoyance. “But keep her the hell out of it,” he warns quietly as he points toward her house. “She’s all I’ve fuckin’ got.”
“Baby, I wouldn’t…”
“I gotta go,” he cuts me off, clearing his throat as he reaches for his keys.
“Please don’t leave...”
“You damn sure don’t want me to stay,” he grates out, reaching for his keys.
I start to call out to him again,
but the sound of the door slamming behind him cuts me off, the rev of his engine as it roars to life telling me not to follow.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nate
I haven’t seen Ava in three days.
Not since the night I stormed out of her house.
There’s a part of me that feels terrible about the way I left things. Even if I’m not ready to have that conversation, not ready to face the fear I’ve had lingering in the back of my mind for longer than I care to admit, Ava didn’t deserve the way I treated her. I know I need to call her, at the very least answer the half dozen texts she’s sent me and apologize. Even if the way I left means she’s done with me, she deserves that, but I just can’t yet.
I haven’t seen Ava in three days, but I haven’t stopped thinking about her, either.
I pull up to my mom’s familiar curb and glance over, not surprised with her new busy work schedule that her father’s truck isn’t sitting in the driveway.
With a heavy sigh of frustration, I make my way to the door and let myself in, giving my mom a quick but sincere smile when I find her at the kitchen table, writing her usual to-do list while she waits.
“Sorry I’m late,” I call out, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “Are you nearly ready to go? We have to be at the office in about fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes?” she replies, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Honey, my appointment isn’t until Friday.”
“Today is Friday, Ma,” I swallow hard, looking down at my phone before showing her the screen. “You said Monday night when we talked about it that they wanted you back on Friday at four and I saved it in my phone.”
“Already?” she asks, her eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. “Well, honey, I’m sorry. I could have sworn all day today it was Wednesday. I think we might be a few minutes late after all,” she sighs, shaking her head in frustration with herself. “Would you be a doll and call the office and let them know? I can’t believe I’ve done something so careless.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I offer, giving her a small smile of reassurance, doing what I can to convince us both that her worry is for nothing. “It happens to everyone sometimes. I’m sure it won’t be a problem at all. I’ll call them now, just go on and get ready, okay?”
She gives me an appreciative nod and I dial the number, explaining quickly while she changes. It isn’t long until we’re on the road and thankfully, our small town isn’t known for traffic, so we aren’t very late at all.
“You can always drop me off, honey.”
“You say that every time and every time I tell you no,” I remind her with a weak chuckle. “I’ll be in the same chair as every week. Just let me know when you’re all done, and we’ll go.”
“Thanks, kid,” she winks, giving me a quick, but affectionate pat on the cheek before she heads for the window at reception.
She has a quick word with them and they let her back into the doctor’s area. Desperate for any distraction, I reach for the same copy of Better Homes and Gardens I’d scanned the week before, knowing there would be nothing new but hoping for newness all the same. Five minutes pass before my mind is wandering once more, my thoughts falling back on Ava.
She was just trying to help, and you treated her like shit, I admonish myself, rubbing my palms over my eyes, fighting back the emotion in my chest.
I’ll call her once I’m done here, maybe stop by her job and see if we can talk.
I’m rolling all these thoughts around, thinking hard on ways to get through to her when the sound of the nurse’s voice breaks through my thoughts, pulling me back to earth.
“What?” I reply, probably rudely, but she smirks at my expression and I forget it all at once.
“The doctor would like to speak with you, Mr. Foster.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask, my eyebrows quirking together in concern. “Where’s my mom?”
“She’s back there in the room with him. He just needs to ask you a few questions.”
“Alright,” I say, untrusting as I drop the long-forgotten magazine from my hand and back onto the little side table I’d taken it from in the first place. I gather my things and follow her back, thanking her when she points to the door my mother is waiting behind. When I step inside, my mom is smiling, but I can’t trust that either once I see the worry in her eyes, still moist with unshed tears. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, honey,” she shakes her head and immediately, I know she’s not sure if her words are truth or not. She pats the spot on the exam table beside her and I shake her doctor’s hand before I take a seat.
“What’s up?”
“Mr. Foster, I’m not sure we’ve been properly introduced yet, but I’m Dr. Arkin,” he starts, and I give him a onceover before answering with a silent and quick nod of my head. “I called you in to chat with us today because as you know, we’ve been running some routine tests on your mother and something came up last week that gave us pause for concern. I’m not sure she’s had a chance to speak with you yet?”
“I didn’t want to worry him,” she admits, pulling my eyes to hers. “I figured it better to wait until…”
“What is it?” I ask, hating the break in my voice as my eyes reluctantly move from hers to the doctor.
“Well, part of the routine testing we do on our patient’s every year includes things like blood tests and urine samples, typical things like that…”
“Spit it out, Doc,” I cut him off, ignoring my mother’s gentle chiding from my right as the doctor’s eyes shift in compassionate understanding. “What did you find?”
“Your mother’s blood tests are what we’ve been worried about. We’ve found what are called amyloid beta proteins present in her platelets. Recent studies have proven that in many cases, this is a common factor in patients who are developing or have already progressed into the moderate stages of Alzheimer’s disease,” he says quickly, holding my eyes. My stomach lurches. “Now, there are other tests we can perform…”
“Do them.”
“Well, if I’m being honest, none are as conclusive as this one,” he admits. “There are a few things we can do to help your mother along the way, hopefully push back the symptoms and degeneration, but unfortunately at this time, technology on this particular illness is quite limited. It’s only been recently that we’ve even been able to link the two which is why in this case, we wouldn’t have noticed discrepancies in her past exams.”
“So, what’s your plan?” I ask, my voice shaken, weak with emotion as I think about what this news might mean for my mother, for me.
Alzheimer’s… Ava was right.
“We put her on a special diet, monitor her levels and try a few medications. Hopefully the combination of these things will help give her more time.”
“More time than what?” I ask, this time, my voice so low I can’t even be sure I really spoke.
“The expectancy for this particular illness is another thing we can’t always pinpoint, but at the stage your mother is in right now, I’d say two years or so would be our absolute best-case scenario.”
“Two years,” I whisper, my vision blurring slightly as I think about the words. “And that’s your best case?”
“Yes,” he nods. “The pace in which each patient can decline is very different and while some are lucky enough to continue long and healthy lives for up to a decade, but...”
“But?”
“But in this case…” his voice trails off for a moment, making me swallow hard. “Her levels are particularly high, and her symptoms have been accelerating at a more rapid pace than most cases I’ve treated. That leads me to believe that her degenerative progress is happening at a much faster pace than with many of our other patients.”
“How long until I can’t remember anymore?” she asks, her voice breaking through the fog and making me swallow back the knot forming in my throat.
Memories of her recent forgetfulness flash in my mind and it’s then that I
feel reality crashing against my soul.
I’m going to lose her and, in the process, she’s going to lose herself, too.
“We aren’t sure,” he admits. “I’m sure some of it’s already begun,” he sighs, reaching for her hand to comfort her when she begins to nod silently. “We’ll just have to keep close watch on your progress. I want you back here in two weeks, take diligent notes, both of you,” he orders gently, pulling a nod from us both. “Mr. Foster, I know you work long hours. I also know this is a hell of a lot to take in,” he offers. “But I’d recommend not waiting to look into a few local assisted living facilities nearby,” he admits, his eyes holding deep regret. “She’s got a little time before that, but it isn’t something you’ll want to rush when…” I clear my throat, unable to hold his eyes as mine begin to tear and I look down, rubbing them clear. “If either of you know of anyone else who is nearby that might offer some help?” he continues. “Perhaps home healthcare would be a better option?”
“We don’t have the money for a private nurse,” she admits.
“Well, what about a close friend? Maybe a neighbor?” he offers, pulling another shake from my mother’s head.
“No, I’m not…”
I reach for her hand and for the first time since the doctor dropped this bomb on us, I brave a look into the only eyes I’ve trusted my whole life.
“We’ll figure it out, Ma,” I promise. “No matter what you need, I’ll find a way to take care of you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ava
It’s been three days and there’s still been no word from Nate.
For the first time since our fight, I forced myself from the house this morning to go to work, silently disappointed when I glance over and see no movement from Mary’s house. It’s rare that I ever see him there before work, but I still like checking in on her, regardless of what’s going on between Nate and me.
She’s always been kind to me, even when I was a girl.
After everything that happened the other night, no matter how bruised it left my soul feeling, I can’t force my eyes away from her door as I slowly pull out of my driveway.