Page 42 of Sinful Betrayal
I find my mother looking at all of the photos, and I know she won’t recognize a single face.
In the beginning, I used to keep most of them in her rooms to help jog her memory but after a while, it only made her more frustrated. So now, she has a singular photo of her and my fatheron their wedding day beside her bed as he is the only person she can’t seem to forget.
It’s a testament to their love.
“Did you sleep okay?” I come to stand beside her.
My mother wrinkles her nose as she places the picture back on the shelf.
“Annie fusses.”
“You like Annie.”
“Not when she fusses.”
I try not to smile, but it’s a good sign that she even remembers Annie’s name. Most of the time, she has no clue who her nurses are despite seeing the same ones day in and day out.
“What do you want to do today? I could set your paints out for you?—”
She waves a hand. “I’m waiting for Nikolai. Have you seen him?”
“No, I haven’t.” I try to keep my tone light.
“He was supposed to be home hours ago. We were going to have lunch at the Deli on East 47th.”
I know exactly which place she’s talking about. I used to take her for lunch there every Sunday, but the place closed a few years back, and I can’t bear to tell her. Not when I already have at least a dozen times.
My heart feels like it’s being cracked open as she stares at all of the photos with nothing but confusion in her eyes.
“You know what he’s like, always running late.”
She frowns. “Something’s happened to him.”
“Nothing has happened. Nikolai is safe. He called me earlier and said he’s running late.” The lie burns as it falls easily off my tongue, but it does the trick in softening my mother’s expression.
“Okay. That’s…that’s very good.”
“Why don’t we have a cup of tea while we wait for him?”
She nods, and I guide her back through to her rooms where I get her settled in the armchair beside the fireplace and get to work making her a cup of tea.
Just as I’m about to carry the cups through, Jen, her day nurse, appears, looking flustered.
“I just went to go and change the sheets in her room and couldn’t find her. I looked in your office and the main kitchen?—”
“It’s all right, Jen. She was looking at some of the photographs in the lounge.”
Jen’s expression brightens for a moment, but I shake my head.
“She didn’t recognize anyone.”
She offers me a sympathetic smile. “It’s still good for her to see them. Now, do you need me to make you something to eat?”
“Thanks, but I think I’m just going to have a quick cup of tea with her and then head to work. She seems to be quite distressed this morning, but I’ll stop by at lunch.”
“You’re doing an amazing job, you know?” Jen pats my arm.
She’s nearly the same age as my mom, and she always fusses over me when I come to visit, always offering me food even if I keep declining.