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Eli paused mid bite, his stomach sinking. The cookies must be triggering old memories. When he was a kid, she'd fix them breakfast, then take him to hockey practice. She'd have milk and cookies waiting for him when he got home.
It was all still there in the recesses of her mind, but jumbled up.
"Do you want to hang out in the living room and watch some television, Mom?"
"Okay. You pick what you want, and I'll watch with you. Bring your cookies and milk." She got up and walked toward the living room, and Eli grabbed another cookie before following her down the hallway.
He took a seat on the couch, and she handed him the remote as she settled down into her easy chair.
"Pick something good," she told him.
He flicked through the channels, settling on a game show he knew she'd always enjoyed. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, she began to cry in earnest.
"Hey," he said gently, stroking her arm. "What's going on, Mom? Why the tears?"
He wasn't overly alarmed, because he knew she was prone to emotional outbursts. Her nurses had advised him to be calm and nurturing when it happened.
"Your father hasn't been home in days." She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "I'm so worried."
Eli stifled a sigh. Lately, things always circled around to his stepfather not being home whenever he spoke to her.
"Don't worry. He's okay, but he won't be home for a while."
"But where is he, Eli?"
"Away on business. He's fine."
Lying to her sucked, but it was a lie for a good cause. Why upset her when she wouldn't remember any of this ten minutes from now?
"He works too hard," she said with a sigh. "He's always working late."
Ethan Donnelley had always been selfish, but when he left his mother after her Alzheimer's diagnosis, he'd become an irredeemable asshole. How could anyone leave their spouse when they were in crisis?
He hadn't spoken to the man in years, but it was no great loss. They'd never gotten along anyway. Ethan had hated stepping into a fatherly role, and he'd been cruel at the best of times.
If there was a way to erase him from his mother's memory forever, he'd jump at the chance.
Halfway through the next show, his mother turned toward him and sucked in a deep breath. Her green eyes widened as she stared at him, a terrified expression on her face.
"Mom! Mom, what's wrong?" He knelt next to her chair. "Talk to me."
"Get away from me!" She shrank away from him when he tried to touch her arm. "Get away!"
"Mom—"
His mother screamed, and Irena came running.
"Get away from me! Leave me alone!"
"Mrs. Donnelley, what's the matter?" Irena asked gently.
Fear and sadness stole through him as his mother stared up at him with frightened eyes. He'd come to terms with the pain he felt when she didn't recognize him, which happened a lot these days. But this was the first time in her entire Alzheimer's journey that she'd been scared of him.
"She's afraid of me," he told Irena.
His eyes grew watery at the nurse's sympathetic expression, and he blinked quickly, fighting back tears.
Fuck, he couldn't cry. He hadn't cried since he was a kid, and starting now, in front of her when she was so scared, was a bad idea.
