Page 4
Ash bit his lower lip to stop himself from sobbing again. Then he nodded some sort of response to Inés’s explanation and heard quiet voices as Inés and Shaina continued talking about something else. Joanna jumped in with a question, and Ash thought he even heard Henry’s voice too. But the words were garbled and sounded far away. And he couldn’t really understand what they were saying. All he could do was stare down at his niece and think about how beautiful and perfect she was.
And about how she was going to grow up not ever having really known her mom.
Ash lifted Bri up again so he could kiss her forehead, and he closed his eyes as the voices around him quieted. Shaina’s arm draped over his shoulders.
“You’re going to figure it all out, Ash. You’ll be a wonderful uncle to her,” Shaina said quietly, squeezing his arm.
His breath shuddered, and when he opened his eyes again, Bri was wide awake, gazing curiously back up at him. She grinned a big toothless grin, gurgled a few nonsense sounds, and then brought both of her hands to her mouth and stuffed several fingers in. He couldn’t help but laugh lightly, though a tear slipped down his cheek at the same time.
He would. He would have to figure it all out. And he would do everything in his power to give her the best life he could.
He looked sideways at Shaina, and neither of them said anything. But when Shaina smiled sadly at him and nodded, he knew she understood.
Dad (Monday, November 29, 2021 – 7:01 a.m.): Your mom’s OT appointment is at 3:15 today with Dr. Van Wicklen. Then she’s got that follow-up with Dr. Patel at 4:45. You’ll be able to get her there? I’ll meet you as soon as I can, sorry I can’t get off work early. Thx
Dad (7:12 a.m.): Oh yeah don’t forget they adjusted her warfarin dose. I just picked up the new rx last night. The pills are blue (4mg). Thx
Chapter Two
Cass
Cass muttered a string of curses under his breath as he pushed back his desk chair and stood. He had one task he had to complete today. Just one. Then he’d have the rest of his Tuesday free to get caught up with all the chores and cleaning he’d been putting off since Thanksgiving last week. And if the nice weather held, he could take his mom down to the park to get her out of the house.
But even just this one thing he had to do was giving him trouble. Because the damn router needed to be replaced.
He took a deep breath to steady himself, knowing his mom didn’t need to see or feel any of his anxious energy, and he headed out into the living room to reset the router—again.
The TV was playing quietly—some episode of an old crime mystery series his mom had probably watched a dozen times already—and Cass paused at the end of the hallway as his gaze shifted to the frail figure sitting on the couch.
She turned her head slowly toward him, a weary, slightly crooked smile growing on her lips. With her good hand, she patted the couch cushion next to her. “Come sit, dear. You look tired.”
He allowed himself a weak laugh at that as he shook his head. “I am tired, ma, but I don’t have time to sit. The application deadline is next week, and I have to get these documents submitted today for my letters of recommendation,” he explained.
Her eyes showed her confusion, although it only took her a moment before she nodded in understanding. “Right. Your grad school application. I forget things,” she said slowly, and she tilted her head to one side as she gave him another smile. “My brilliant boy. I wish . . . I wish you . . .”
She trailed off, but he could tell it wasn’t because she couldn’t find her words. It was because she still felt guilty. His heart twisted a little, and he shook his head again and crossed the room toward her.
“No, ma. Don’t feel like that. I’m happy to be here. You know that, right?”
“I know. But you had plans for your future and places to go and things to do,” she said, her eyes not leaving his. He was surprised at the conviction he saw in her, although it was tinged with sadness and regret. “I wish you hadn’t had to put your life on hold for me.”
He shook his head yet again, willing her to understand, and he took the last few steps across the room to the couch. He really didn’t have time, but he sat next to her anyway, and he gently wrapped his arm around her thin shoulders and pulled her up against him.
“I’m not putting my life on hold, ma. That’s why this online MLIS program is going to be perfect for me. I can stay here with you and Dad and still get my degree.” He knew that wasn’t exactly what she’d meant, or at least not all of what she’d meant, but he was intent on sounding as optimistic as possible. Even if his own optimism was hanging on by a thread most days.
At the same time, he allowed himself to feel some measure of relief as he recognized the relative clarity of her words and the ease with which she’d spoken them just now. It had been nearly nine months since her stroke, and most of her doctors had cautioned them that at this point, she’d probably regained about as much motor control and physical function as could be expected. Much of her left side remained weak, a condition Cass had learned was called hemiparesis, and despite an extensive rehabilitation regimen involving multiple physical and occupational therapy sessions every week, it was unlikely she’d ever regain full function of her left limbs. Her speech and communication, however, seemed to be improving daily now. Although she still spoke slowly, she no longer had trouble choosing the right words or putting words together in the right order to form cohesive sentences.
And given how difficult things had been just after her stroke, her ability to communicate now was a huge improvement.
She set her hand on his thigh, patting him gently. “It’s not just school, and you know it. What about other things? That boyfriend of yours? Mitchell? Michael? Gosh, I can’t remember names anymore.”
Cass coughed weakly and shook his head. “His name was Miles, ma. And we only went out once. Months ago. He moved back to Portland, and we haven’t spoken since. We, uh, didn’t really click.”
“Oh, darn, that’s too bad. He was handsome,” she said with a quiet laugh, and Cass closed his eyes as he felt his cheeks heat up.
That was true at least—Miles had been handsome. But he’d also been much more interested in himself than in Cass, and during the entire two hours of their one and only date, which had seemed to Cass to be the longest two hours in the history of time, Cass had barely managed to get in a few words edgewise. He’d been happy to end the night with a mutual “I don’t think this is going to work,” and he and Miles had gone their separate ways. That had been in early May, just before Cass had graduated from UC Davis with his BA in art history and made his final commute back home to Redding to help take care of his mom full time. He hadn’t dated—or wanted to date—since.
“I’m just teasing, you know.” His mom patted his leg again, and when he nodded briefly, she sighed. “I just want you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. And I know . . . I know how hard this has been. You and your father have been so . . .”