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“Mom, you’re not at home. Remember? This is your room now.”
Her face crumples, confusion and fear replacing the excitement from moments before. “No.” She shakes her head then says it a little more firmly. “No.”
“Mom,” I say carefully. “You’re in memory care.”
“No, I don’t . . . I don’t understand. Where am I?” Her hands shake as she looks around the small space like she’s seeing it for the first time.
“You’re safe,” I say quickly, but she’s backing away from me, tears starting to fall.
“I want to go home.” She’s looking at me like I’m a stranger now, features pinched in confusion.
My heart shatters, but I know better than to push. Instead, I press the call button for the nurse and within minutes, one appears.
“Hey there, Iris.” The nurse’s voice is soothing as she approaches. “Let’s take some deep breaths together, okay?”
I step back, watching her work her magic. It takes several minutes of Mom shouting to go home before the nurse eventually calms her down, allowing herself to be guided back to her chair. By the time the nurse looks at me, Mom is staring out the window like nothing happened.
The nurse reaches over to turn off the radio before coming to me. “She’ll be okay,” she murmurs. “These transitions are hard, but she’ll settle.”
“I don’t know what happened,” I admit.
“Sometimes music is good for them, but other times, it can be a problem.”
“They were playing songs from when I was younger.”
She nods. “That might’ve been it. Either way, it might be best to give her some time.”
I want to hug mom, to kiss her forehead, but I don’t want to set her off again. With my heart in my throat, I gather my things and leave, fighting tears the whole way to my car.
My phone buzzes with a text, and I sniff, trying to shove down my sorrow as I make sure it’s not work.
CALLIE
Meet up at my house in thirty minutes? Aspen’s bringing tacos.
On my way.
I’ll take anything to keep from wallowing in my grief.
“So.” Callie hands Coronas to and Aspen and me. We’re sprawled across her overstuffed couch like we used to in high school, empty taco plates scattered on the coffee table. “How was your trip, Aspen?”
Aspen stretches like a cat, her blonde hair falling in soft waves down her back. “Heartbreaking. Exhausting, but strangely beautiful too.” She tucks her feet under her. “Grandma would have loved the turnout for her funeral. Half of the town showed up.”
“It sounds like it was nice,” I say, picking at my fingers. I’m not sure what Mom wants when she passes. I honestly didn’t think I’d be worrying about that until I was in my forties, but with her in memory care already. . . things have changed.
Noticing my sudden silence, Aspen reaches over and squeezes my hand. “How is she?”
My chest aches. “Good days and bad days. More bad lately.”
We sit in heavy silence for a moment. I love them, but I don’t want to cry right now. They both seem to understand, especially Callie, who clears her throat dramatically. “Okay, on a scale of one to ten, how much do you want to hear about my trip?”
Exhaling in relief, I tap my chin. “Depends. Does it involve butt plugs?”
Aspen laughs, shaking her head. “I can live without hearing about your butt, Cal.”
“Hey, some people love my butt.” Callie waggles her eyebrows.
I stare thoughtfully into my bottle. “Is it hard to hook up with all three of them at once?”
