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“We can go right now if you want.”
Thinking it over, I nod. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”
He smacks a kiss on my cheek, then climbs off the bed. “Drink your water and get dressed. I’m going to make you a snack to eat in the car.”
“Can you make the—”
“Buffalo popcorn? I’ve got it covered, babe. Get dressed.” He walks out of the room, but calls back, “Hydrate!”
Sometimes I’m not sure whether to swoon or smack him, but after years of doing everything on my own, it feels good to be taken care of again.
Miles’s hand is wrapped tightly around mine as we get off the elevator on the lower level of the nursing home, where the locked dementia unit is. Three years ago, my mom was still my mom—though she was starting to show signs of forgetfulness and paranoia—now she’s in a locked dementia unit. She’s only sixty. Then again, my dad was only fifty-three. Age doesn’t matter. Fate comes for you no matter what.
I stopped by the locked door, which I know the code for, and look up at Miles. “I don’t know what kind of day she’s having or if she’ll know who I am.”
“We’ll work with whatever version of her we get today. No matter what, I’m glad I get to meet her.”
I can’t even pretend that doesn’t turn me into a puddle.
After giving myself a second to melt over his sweetness, I key in the code and press the button that silences the alarm, then pull the door open.
I hate the smell of nursing homes and hospitals. They smell like cleaner and overcooked food, and if it’s that kind of day, they smell like shit, too. And yet, when we walk through the door, we’re greeted with smiling faces. Various staff members smile and say hello. One of my favorite nurses, Noelle, walks over.
“Hi, honey. How are you?”
“I’m doing okay,” I answer semi-honestly.
“Darlene mentioned she spoke to you today. I hope she didn’t make you feel guilty. Those of us that know you assumed there was something going on. I thought about texting you to see if you needed a drink or a shoulder to cry on.” She glances at Miles. “I can see that you don’t. But if you ever do, let me know.”
“Thanks, Noelle.” I swallow hard. I haven’t said this out loud to anyone besides Miles, Dani, and some coworkers. “I found out I’m pregnant a few weeks ago, and the thought of coming to see her…”
She grabs my hand. “Aw, hon. I know it hurts. I lost my mom so young. Having a baby is an exciting time. It’s also a great reminder of what we’ve lost. She’s in a pretty good place today. She probably won’t remember you telling her tomorrow, but she should recognize you today. It’s not much, but it’s the best case.”
The thought that she might actually have a reaction to this—even if she doesn’t remember it later—ignites a little hope in my heart.
“Thanks,” I say, taking a deep breath. Miles still has his hand wrapped tightly around mine, so I give it a squeeze, then nod toward the dining room where Mom is sitting at a table doing a small puzzle with large pieces.
“Hi, Mom,” I say, rubbing her back as I sit down next to her. Her light blue eyes drift up to mine and her face scrunches. “It’s me. Amelia.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh, of course. Hi, honey. How are you? How’s your father?”
That’s the worst part. When she remembers me, she rarely remembers Dad’s gone. Though it’s probably nicer for her not to have to relive that pain.
“I’m good. Dad is… the same as always.”
Miles glances at me, so I gesture to the chair he’s standing by and he sits, though I continue standing. It’s too hard for me to sit when I have so much nervous energy coursing through me. I do this every time and eventually Mom tells me to sit down because she hates me hovering over her.
Mom looks from me to Miles. “Who are you?”
Miles flashes his most charming grin. “I’m your new favorite person.”
“His name is Miles. Miles, this is my mother, Eileen.”
“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” Miles says, and I’d roll my eyes if he wasn’t so adorable.
Mom laughs and points at him. “I like you.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief and look at the puzzle. “Want any help with that?”
