Page 57 of Truck Me
What in the hell is that all about?
I rub my hand over my heart and press. Hard. It does nothing to relieve the pressure I feel. Garret takes a step toward me, but I spin around and head toward the back door before he makes it very far. I assume he stops because he doesn’t follow me inside.
Moments later, laughter fills the backyard. Rayne has captured his attention again.
“Char!” Mom’s voice snaps, dragging my attention to her. She looks worse than I thought. Her eyes are bloodshot, and her hands are shaking. “Your dad’s being difficult this morning. He doesn’t know me.”
Her voice cracks and tears break free from her eyes. I rush to her and pull her into a tight hug. “It’s the disease, Mom. It’s not Dad’s fault.”
“I know,” she says through a sob. “It’s just … It’s so hard seeing him like this.”
“Where’s he at?”
She steps back from my embrace and wipes her eyes dry. “In the living room. He’s really angry today.”
“Okay. I’ll go check on him. Why don’t you make yourself some hot tea? Once I’ve got him settled, I’ll make some cookies. He always likes cookies.”
Mom nods and immediately turns to the cabinet, where she keeps her selection of hot teas. She needs to keep busy or else she’s going to crack. I hate seeing her like this, and something tells me I’m going to hate how I find my dad even more.
Dad is sitting on the couch, staring at the space in front of him as if he’s completely lost to his thoughts.
“Hey, Dad,” I say tentatively, being sure to keep a little distance in case he lashes out. The doctor told me this could happen. That if he had a complete lapse of memory where he didn’t recognize any of us, he could lash out in anger.
He looks up at me and narrows his eyes. “Dad? Why are you calling me dad?”
“Because that’s who you are.” I take another step into the living room. “Do you know who I am?”
He scoffs. “That’s a silly question. Of course I know who you are, Lois. You’re my wife.”
My chest tightens again, but this time it’s nothing like how I felt when I was outside. Now I feel like the weight of the world is crushing me, pushing all the air and life out of my body.
The doctor warned me this could happen too. I look a lot like my mom. He’s not seeing his daughter right now. He’s seeing a younger version of her.
He’s trapped in the past, and there’s nothing I can do for him.
My eyes sting and I squeeze them shut in an attempt to fight back the tears. The sense of helplessness that washes over me is so intense and painful I almost buckle over in agony.
Instead, I spin around and rest my hand against the wall and take in deep, shallow breaths.
“Lois,” he says. His tone is much softer now. “I’m not feeling so great. Can I just watch some TV and rest?”
I nod as I respond. “Of course Da—” I swallow my response and it hurts going down. “Jim. Yes. Let me get the remote for you.”
I wipe my face and force a smile before I turn around. He’s watching me with a curious and sad look in his eyes. It’s almost as if he knows he’s got this all wrong but doesn’t know why. I’m familiar and yet a complete stranger to my own father. I’m not sure anything has hurt this much before in all my life.
I swallow back my emotions and focus on what’s important—making my dad comfortable. “What would you like to watch? Those game shows you enjoy?”
“Those aren’t on yet. It’s too early in the day.”
“There’s a cable channel dedicated to game shows. They play them all day long.”
He rears his head back as if that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever said. “Since when?”
I shrug. “Don’t know. All I know is it exists.”
I don’t wait for him to confirm if that’s what he wants to watch. I turn it on, and his attention is immediately captured. His shoulders relax and he sinks back on the couch.
I set the remote next to him in case he wants to change it to something else. He seems calmer now, so I risk resting my hand on his shoulder. A small smile lifts his lips when he looks at me.