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“Absolutely not.”
“Why? Is it spicy?” The redness of her face deepened. “Oh my God, it is, isn’t it? You wrote a sexy book.”
“Quinlan Marie. Keep your voice down.”
“Holy crap, now I have to read it. Wait.” I paused. “Never mind. There are some things a daughter should never know. One of those being the inner workings of her mother’s brain when it comes to sex. Nope. I’ll get River and Ems to read those parts.”
“Life goes on,” she sighed, “as it should.”
“But somehow, it will never be the same again,” I added.
A few minutes passed as I read the letter for a second time.
“I want to talk to you two about an idea I have regarding the house.”
“Mom, there’s plenty of time—”
She laid her hand on my arm. “I think you should live there when the rebuild is complete.”
“With you, you mean?” Alec asked the question that was on the tip on my tongue.
“No,” she replied, a hint of sadness in her tone. “It’s time for new beginnings. A fresh start for all of us.”
My head dropped to my chest and my eyes closed as I contemplated her words. I’d already lost one parent and I’d be damned if I lost another one.
“We’ll build you a cottage out back, near the tree line,” I blurted out.
“Exactly,” Alec agreed. “You’ll get your own space, plus you’d have unfettered access to your grandchild.”
“Can I think about it?” she asked.
In my mind it was a done deal, so I didn’t bother answering her. She’d come around to my way of thinking eventually, I wouldn’t take no for an answer. I understood her reasoning for not wanting to stay in the same house where all of her hopes and dreams literally went up in smoke, but for me it was the opposite. The thought of making new memories with my own family in the only home I’d ever known was more than appealing.
It was everything.
_______________
“WHERE DO YOUwant to get married?”
We were lying in bed in the dark, having gone back to his apartment once the majority of the guests had left the reception.
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to wait until next year so we could do it on the farm, would you?”
“Negative, baby. I’m not waiting that long for you to be mine, legally.”
“We could always go to the courthouse.”
“Have you met my mother? She would have a heart attack.”
“True. Give me a couple of days to think.”
A stillness fell over the room. Only the occasional creak of the mattress as one of us shifted and the softness of our breaths filtered through the quiet. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, more reflective. When I closed my eyes, I could see his face, his smile. The way he used to roll his eyes when Mom would scold us for tracking mud in the house after one of our wild adventures in the woods.
I wish we had more time together.
Time, though infinite, was fleeting. It was also the subject of many of my prayers since Dad’s diagnosis. Time wouldn’t help you prepare for the kind of hell we went through; the hell millions of families went through year after year. Alzheimer’s wasn’t like most deadly diseases, where you could see the physical effects of the war your body waged against it. It was a silent killer, an ugly bastard who stripped its victims of their memories, along with their ability to do even the simplest of tasks.
Alzheimer’s may not have taken him from us, but it stole a part we will never get back.
