Page 17 of Red, White, and BearCat Blue

He sniffed before reaching into his desk drawer to pull on gloves before holding out his open palm. I was forced to lean across the desk and place the money in his hand. His fingers curled around the bills and he made a big deal of counting them out on his desk blotter. I balled both hands into fists by my sides, biting my tongue, so I didn’t tell him what I thought of his attitude. I hated being at the mercy of this bastard. It was a wonder I hadn’t punched him in the nose before now.

The two agents behind me didn’t say anything but the room practically thrummed with the hostile energy coming from them. Mr. Ranger started noting the payment into the computer and while he did, I glanced over at Mars. He was wearing a dark expression as he stared at the small, balding director. When he turned to look at me, the expression softened. The look he gave me was a mix of anxious and sad and with a jolt, I recognized it for what it was…pity.

I looked away, flushing with embarrassment. I didn’t even know Mars or his friend, but I hated being pitied. It was humiliating. I hadn’t had what anyone would term an easy life, but everything had gotten worse when Jessie died. I’d experienced all the stages of grief…denial, anger, sadness, etcetera, but watching my mom go through it, had been awful. Losing him had practically killed her and I had no doubt that his loss had hastened her deterioration.

The only comfort I’d taken after she’d gotten her diagnosis was the realization that along with forgetting me someday, she’d also forget her sorrow at losing Jessie the way she had. Over time, she’d stopped talking about him so much and I knew it was because her memory was getting worse and worse as the Alzheimer’s slowly poked holes in her brain.

“Was that all, Mr. Demarco?”

I focused on Ranger with a start, having completely forgotten what I was doing there as my mind drifted away. Maybe they’d stick me in a place like this someday? Maybe Alzheimer’s was a thing passed down in families. I’d never researched it, afraid of what I’d find.

“Oh, uh…yeah. We’re done.”

“Good. See you next month,” he said, handing me a printed receipt. I took it and started turning away. “I hope we see you on time next month, Mr. Demarco. It’d be a shame if we had to give your mother to the State.”

Like it would be a gift or something. “Yeah, of course.” I swallowed, turning toward the door. When I felt a hand on the small of my back, I swiveled my head to look at Mars. He was smiling at me, leading me out of the office. His touch burned me right through the coat.

“Let’s go see your mum,” he said.

I grinned. “Yeah, thanks, guys.” We headed back down the hall, and I led them to a different corridor. French doors spilled sunlight into the wide walkway paved with terracotta tiles as we headed to the back of the building.

“Guy’s kind of a prick, right?”

Mickey looked like he could chew nails and like it as he watched me.

I nodded. “He always makes me feel embarrassed…like just because we don’t have a lot of money, Mom doesn’t matter.”

“I’ve met lots of arse’oles like ‘im,” Mars said. “Money is everything to them.”

I nodded, heading out the back door while they followed. Orange flagstones covered the patio which was surrounded by plants and flowers. Several patients sat outside under an awning at picnic tables while visiting with family and guests. Some were in wheelchairs. Other folk were eating or laughing. A couple of people were being pushed around the rose garden by uniformed nurses. The air was scented with the sweet, old-fashioned rose fragrance while ceiling fans with wide blades moved the air around so it wasn’t so damn hot.

Mom sat in a chair under a huge, covered gazebo at the back of the property. She held small barbells and was doing chair calisthenics, while Mrs. Moss stood at the front of the large group smiling in an encouraging way as she demonstrated.

Mom glanced up at me as I came over to her, stopping to squat beside her chair. As usual, she was beautiful and still youthful despite the toll her disease had taken on her. Her cheeks were rosy and her forehead glistened with sweat as she looked at me for a few seconds. The vacant stare in her eyes told me that today was going to be one of those days when she wouldn’t know who I was.

“Hello,” she said, stopping her arm movements.

I reached out, setting my hand on her forearm and giving it a little squeeze. “Hi, Mom.”

“Who are you?”

I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “It’s Cam…Camden, Mom. Do you recognize me?” I felt my heart squeezing in pain as she slowly shook her head. The way her gaze traveled over my face, showing no sign of recognition, was heartbreaking.

“Camden? That’s a pretty name. Do we know each other?”

I nodded, squeezing her arm again. “I’m your son, Camden.” I took the barbells out of her hands, setting them on the flagstones.

She nodded, but the vacant expression in her eyes remained. “You look familiar, but I don’t think I have a son anymore.” When her expression suddenly turned sad, my heart hurt. “I did have a son a long time ago. His name was…” Her words trailed off and her eyebrows drew together as she tried to remember. “I think I had a son a long time ago.”

I heard someone shuffle on the wooden boards behind me and then a hand landed softly on my shoulder. Mom looked up just before I did. I stood to my full height as Mars squeezed my shoulder. I cleared my throat. “Mom, these are my friends, Mars and Mickey.”

She smiled, looking up at the two agents. “Hello.”

“’Ello, Mrs. Demarco,” Mars said, holding out a hand. His voice didn’t hold the normal growly tone I’d become accustomed to. He spoke softly and kindly as she took his hand. I watched as her delicate fingers were swallowed up by his much larger mitt and he instantly covered their clasp with his other hand. “It’s so nice to meet Cam’s mum.”

She nodded blankly.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Mickey said, reaching out to take her hand as Mars let go and stepped back.