“They do pretty well. Jared Dunn is currently the head honcho,” Dom continues. “His father, Louie Dunn, is supposed to be retired, but I have my suspicions that Louie still has his hands in the cartel cookie jar.”
“That’s how it usually goes.” My mother tsks.
“Patrick Dunn is Louie’s brother. He’s too clueless and dumb for us to busy ourselves with. But Dakota, Jared’s daughter, and Laura, Jared’s wife—they’re another story.”
“I’ll focus on Louie, Tony,” my mom states, just as Dom opens the massive front door.
“Never afraid of a challenge,” Dom comments and smiles over at her. “This is why I’m glad we have you on our team. I’m not so sure Ziva is up to it, you know?”
“Ziva’s good, Tony,” my mom replies as we step into the beautiful foyer. “But sometimes she gets a little too busy on men, you know?”
“Mm-hmm,” Dom answers and flashes a cheeky grin at me. “She needs to think less with her heart and more with her head.”
I sneak my hand out to pinch his bicep ... hard. Though I’m not at all prepared for the layers of muscle that sit beneath his skin. I swear, the man has no fat. Just thick cords of muscles atop bone.
Dom grimaces when I manage a real good pinch of skin, but he lets out a quiet laugh at the same time.
He guides us out of the foyer and down the main hallway, which opens up to a big kitchen. The room is filled with people. Instantly, when they spot Dom’s smiling face, they burst out into friendly greetings.
“Everyone, these are my friends Sherry and Hannah. They came to join in the festivities.” My mom is too busy surveying the room to notice Dom introducing us. She even walks toward the massive island in the center of the kitchen and sits down on a barstool beside a man who appears to be in his eighties.
I can only assume this is Louie, and my mom has been TV-trained by too many episodes ofNCISand other crime shows not to pick out the person she’s been told is the current conversation target.
“Hannah, this is my mom, Laura.” He introduces me to an attractive woman who appears to be in her mid-fifties. She’s dressed in a sophisticated but relaxed pantsuit and is wearing a pair of flats that have a double-C emblem I know stands for luxury.
I start to hold out my hand, but Laura pulls me in for a hug instead. “It’s so great to meet you, Hannah. You’ll have to excuse my excitement, but Dominic never brings friends over.” She leans back and playfully shoves him in the shoulder. “And such abeautifulfriend, at that.” Her eyes flit back and forth between me and her son.
“And the other beautiful lady over there, talking to the birthday boy, is Hannah’s mother, Sherry,” Dom says, and nerves start to sit heavy in my gut. I love my mother with everything I have, but she’s not like everyone else in this room. She used to be. She used to be chattyand aware, someone who never met a stranger. Back in the day, before Alzheimer’s became a thief of her mind, Sherry May could work a room.
She can still work a room now, but the room has to be willing to join her reality.
“My mother ...” I pause, trying to find the right words, but Dom pipes in before I can finish.
“Sherry’s mind is like how Grandma Harriet’s was before she passed.” He looks at me, and there’s nothing but genuine kindness on his face. “My grandma had dementia.”
Alzheimer’s and dementia are nearly interchangeable. Alzheimer’s is a specific disease that causes dementia. Anddementiais more of a general term for symptoms. From what my mother’s neurologist has told me over the years, lots of things can cause dementia. But Alzheimer’s is a monster of a disease that causes rapid dementia.
Laura’s expression turns sympathetic, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I don’t feel uncomfortable telling someone the reality of my mom’s situation.
“My mom has Alzheimer’s. She was diagnosed when I was twelve.”
Laura’s mouth turns down in a little frown. “I’m so sorry, Hannah,” she says and reaches out to give me another hug. “Alzheimer’s is a motherfucker,” she whispers into my ear, and I can’t decide if I’m shocked by how easily she gives affection or the fact that I just witnessed a woman who appears prim and proper drop the f-bomb.
I don’t really know what to say to that, but it doesn’t matter because the rest of Dom’s family is walking over to introduce themselves to me. I glance over to the kitchen island and see my mom is engaged in a conversation with who I now know is Dom’s grandfather Louie—her pretend target, funnily enough.
I’m not within hearing distance to catch the path their chatter has taken, but I can’t deny that it makes my heart race with uncertainty.
My mother is the sweetest. But it takes a special type of person to be able to understand her condition. Ever since she was diagnosed, I’ve witnessed far too many people get frustrated with her or misunderstandher, or even get angry with her for not being able to comprehend reality like they can.
It’s one of the reasons I’ve never wanted to put her in a memory-care nursing home. I know there are good ones out there, but the bad ones blend in like snakes in the grass, and the mere idea of someone treating my mom cruelly because they don’t understand her is too much for me to bear.
Dom continues his introductions, and I meet his younger sister, Dakota. She’s really bubbly and pretty, with the same light-brown hair as Dom, but where his eyes are more blue than green, hers are more green than blue. His father, Jared, is practically the copy-paste version of his handsome son, but add twenty-five years of sophisticated gray. And his great-uncle Patrick, who appears to be only a few years younger than his grandfather Louie, has the kind of constant smile that makes you wonder if it ever leaves his face.
Everyone is super friendly and welcoming, and when we walk over to where my mother sits at the island, I realize she’s talking to Louie about where Dunn Coffee imports their beans from.
“Well, that depends, Sherry,” Louie answers with a shrug. “Brazil is the best, but sometimes market conditions have us seeking other options in places like Colombia ... Costa Rica ... Guatemala.”
“Colombia, Costa Rica,andGuatemala? Sounds like you do a lot of business deals with Central American countries. Is there any particular reason for that, Louie?” she questions, her brow furrowed and her voice 100 percent chary.
