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The next several days go by in a blur. Staying in bed and resting, per Miles' insistence, has been both nice and aggravating. I don't think I’ve rested this much since I had the flu in college. Miles doesn't let me lift a finger. He has taken the responsibility of caring for me to a whole new level. I can finally open my right eye without any pain, but there is still some nasty bruising around it. I had to call Edith at the bookstore to tell her what was going on and that I wasn't going to be at work for the week. She seemed sympathetic in her own way, but she was a little upset by the end of the phone call. However, she wished me well. Miles' friend came to our apartment a few days ago to set up the security system, so Sarah is staying there now.
?I called my mother the day after the incident and told her everything about Jacob, and I also told her about Miles. She asked a million questions and was overly excited to learn he would be coming home with me for Christmas. I was finally able to open the birthday present she sent; it was a beautiful, monogrammed leather journal. It has been perfect to make notes about the book I’m writing, since I am holed up in bed.
?My phone rings, and I see that it’s William. I'm sure mom told him about what happened last weekend, and he is calling to check in.
?"Hey, bro."
?"Lizzie, fuck don't scare us like that."
?"Geez, Will, I wasn't trying to get kidnapped."
?"That’s not what I'm saying." He drags in a deep sigh,then continues, "We’ve just had a lot going on lately, and I can't lose my little sister."
?"What's going on? Is it the girls? Is it Whitney?" I question in a rush. Now, I feel terrible for not calling him back sooner. He obviously is going through something.
?"No, no, they’re all fine. It's dad, Lizzie. He's sick."
?"What's wrong with him, Will?"
?"I was hoping we could have this conversation in person when you’re home for Christmas, but its gotten worse. Dad was diagnosed with early onset dementia about six months ago. He’s been getting progressively worse, faster than the doctors predicted. In fact, he had to be put in a senior living facility." I gasp, even though I somehow knew, deep down, that something was wrong with him. Tears well up in my eyes as I listen to William tell me everything that’s been going on in the past months. I feel terrible for putting this all on Will and for not coming home more often.
?"I feel like I don't know what to say. I have a lot of questions, but none I can verbalize right now."
?"I know, Lizzie. Just take some time to process this. I think it would be a promising idea to see him when you come home for Christmas. There are still some days that he’ll recognizes me, and I want you to have that. I know y'all have had your problems. I just want you to think about it okay?" I take a deep breath and nod my head, even though I know that he can't see me.
?"Okay. I will. I'm so sorry."
?"It is what it is. It's a terrible situation for everyone involved. I'm not upset with you if that's what you’re thinking. I love you, sis, always."
?"I love you too, Will. I’ll call and let you know when I will be getting home." We say our goodbyes and hang up. I just sit there, staring at my phone until I hear Miles clear his throat. The bed dips with his weight as he comes to sit next to me. When I look up at him, I see concern written all over his face. I had the call on speaker phone, so I'm sure he heard everything, which really suits me, because I don't think I can recap anything right now.
?"I'm so sorry, baby. I heard the news." Miles lies down on the bed and brings my body over to his, so my head is resting on his chest. A few tears escape my eyes and pool on the shirt he's wearing.
?"I don't really know what to say," I admit to him.
?"You don't have to say anything. Just know I'm right here when you need me, if you want to talk." He leans down and kisses the top of my head, and a new wave of tears erupts from my eyes.
?You never know how much time someone has left. I felt like I had forever to make things right with my father, and now there’s a possibility he won't even know me if I go see him. Stupid early onset dementia. Why did he have to play football all those years? William said the doctors mentioned that repetitive brain injuries from years of playing contact sports could have led to this diagnosis. Also, his elevated level of alcohol consumption. His doctors have been telling him for years that he needed to stop drinking. Did he listen to them? No, he didn't, and now we’ve got to deal with this shit.
?Well fuck him.
?He did this to himself.
?Literally, he did this to himself.
?Fuck.
?Why did he have to do it?
?I still can't believe it. What am I supposed to do with this information. I'm still trying to process everything that happened last weekend, and now I get hit with this information. I'm suddenly so exhausted, so I close my eyes and fall into a fitful sleep.
???
Miles
I lie here watching her sleep, but she isn't doing so peacefully. She keeps jerking and jumping, and there seem to be a million different emotions showing on her face as her lashes flutter. I grab my phone from my pocket while trying not to disturbLizzie, so I can order us some dinner. I think it's time for her to get out of this bed. I know just the place to call and have it delivered. Once the order is placed, I pull her small body closer to mine, squeezing her tightly and hoping it will comfort her fretful sleep.
?Rolling out of bed, I leave Lizzie to rest and walk to the front door to grab our dinner delivery.
