Page 124 of Direct Action

“I’m looking at condos, sweet tart. I want a pool and rec center and green spaces I don’t have to look after. And two of them even have tennis courts.”

Good God.

“Um, Mom, the last time you played tennis you came home with a black eye,” I gently reminded her.

One could say I got my coordination from my dad. It was unsafe for any flying objects to be sailing toward my mom.

“It’ll be fine.” She waved off my concern.

“Yeah, like the time you asked Dad to take you out on a paddleboard and you almost drowned—fine like that?”

Finally, a genuine smile graced my beautiful mother’s face.

“I see your point. No water sports,” she conceded.

Though it must be noted she hadn’t forfeited tennis. If she was serious about learning how to play, I was buying her a catcher’s mask.

“Let me know what time you’re going to tour the properties, and I’ll come with.”

“I’d like that.”

I wouldn’t like it one single bit. I was going to hate every second, but for my mom I was going to plaster a fake smile on my face and pretend I was happy she was learning how to play tennis.

When really all I wanted was my old life back.

Fuck neurodegenerative diseases, and proteins in the brain, and mini strokes, and damaged brain cells, and microglia, and astrocytes.

Fuck Alzheimer’s—the thief that had stolen everything.

“And please set up dinner soon. I’d like to properly meet the man who’s captured my daughter’s heart.”

“I’ll set it up.”

“Soon, Chloe. But now tell me everything. I want to know all about him.”

I spent the rest of lunch telling my mom all about the awesomeness that was Ryan Strong. Of course I left out big chunks of what made him the man who had not only captured my heart but had proven he was the man who kept me whole and safe and protected.

Behind the wheel of my baby, I headed out of the parking lot. It didn’t take long before the nasty thoughts started to invade. Selling the house. My dad no longer my dad in the sense he no longer knew I was his daughter. The pain of that crushed me. I could feel the weight of it threatening to break me, and I was all out of mental stop signs.

Redirection was no longer working. Bits and pieces of my childhood floated through my mind like a beautiful mosaic of better times. A montage of happiness that had turned into sorrow. The slow destruction that was talked about, but pamphlets and doctor’s-office handouts couldn’t truly be understood until you experienced it yourself.

Nothing would ever take away this pain.

But I knew what would dull it.

I waited until I was at the stop sign before I grabbed my phone off the seat next to me.

He picked up on the second ring.

He always picked up. Even if he was busy. Ryan never left me hanging.

“Hey, baby, how was lunch with your mom?”

Some of the pain started to recede.

“Good. She wants us to have dinner with her. Is that cool with you?”

“Absolutely.”