Chapter 2
TWO
“Great,” I said as I dropped my keys on the front porch. “Just fucking great.”
I tried to grab them quickly, hating that the alarm was already blaring at full force, but the damn things had lodged themselves behind my mother’s planter, making me stretch as much as possible to reach them.
Closer.
Closer.
Got ‘em.
Scooping them up, I pushed the door fully open, scrambling to find the glowing alarm box on the wall. Elsa, my golden retriever, barked at my legs, trying to say hello like normal, but with the alarm bells, I could only focus on pressing the numbers as quickly as possible. I must not have been fast enough, because by the time I hit the last number, the phone trilled to life.
I rushed into the kitchen, grabbing the old yellow landline hanging from the kitchen wall. The damn thing had to be over thirty years old, but my mother refused to get rid of it, even with my offer to upgrade their wireless service provider. She didn’t trust cell phones, especially not in the middle of the woods. She claimed the cell towers would all go out one day, and we’d all be here, begging to use her ugly yellow phone.
I didn’t have the heart to argue with her.
I grabbed the phone, pulling the receiver to my ear.
“May I have your code word, please?”
“Ace of Hearts,” I muttered, hating my mother a little for picking that phrase, especially tonight.
“Thank you, sir. Have a good night.”
I hung up with the security firm and took a steady breath. Elsa jumped excitedly at my feet, reminding me she had business to take care of. Reaching down, I scratched her head and led her through the kitchen. “I know, girl. Come on.”
I pushed open the back door, and she rushed outside, staying close enough that I could see her, even without the porch light on. Usually, we’d spend some time out here so she could stretch her legs, but considering the dropping temperature and the late hour, we were both ready to get back inside. I grabbed her favorite toy from the counter, depositing a few treats inside before letting Elsa wander back to her spot by the fireplace. She happily played as I crossed my nightly chores off my list, hoping it would be enough to lull me to sleep when the time came.
As I poked my head up the staircase off the living room, I said a silent thank you to the universe for my parents not waking up. However, once I stepped back into the kitchen, footsteps creaked along the floorboards. I turned, spotting my mother as she entered the room, wrapped up in my dad’s old, tattered robe. When she got close enough, I pulled her into my arms, kissing the top of her head. “Sorry about that. Dropped the keys, so I couldn’t put the code in on time.”
“Happens,” she shrugged. “I was up anyway.”
“Everything okay?” I asked, pulling back to look her in the eyes. My mother, Marta Anders, was the strongest woman I knew and could handle anything life threw at her. But the past year had worn heavily on us all, and we both knew the days were taking their toll. She was exhausting herself, and I hated that she wouldn’t ask for help.
“Everything is fine,” she hushed as she moved to where she kept the tea bags. She grabbed the kettle from its place on the stove, filling it with water before returning to turn on the burner. “Your father had a rough night, but we worked it out. I had to give him a little medicine to get him to relax.”
“You should have called me, Mom.” I pulled out one of the stools and took a seat on the island. “I’m here to help.”
“We’re okay, Gray. You have your own life, and you need to live it. I hate that you already gave up so much to be here for us.”
“It’s not enough.” I looked down at my hands, knowing the sacrifices my parents had made to help me live my dream. I’d started playing baseball in middle school after one of my friends took me to the batting cages after school. Something about the rhythm of the machines, focusing on the ball, helped me silence the noise around me. When I was in that metal cage, nothing else mattered. After a lifetime of being unable to focus, it felt like a sign I could tune out the rest of the world as soon as a bat was in my hands.
After that day, I begged my parents to let me join every team. I was on travel teams, rec leagues, and every intramural I could find before I was finally able to join the modified league in eighth grade. And as much as it strained them, my parents were at every game and sacrificed everything to make sure my dream became a reality.
It was the kind of love you could never pay back, but I would be damned if I wasn’t going to try.
My mother reached out, taking my hands in hers. “You’re here, Gray. That’s all I could ask for. I know you should be back in the city, but selfishly, I love having you home.”
“Even when I set off the alarm in the middle of the night?”
She leaned back and shrugged. “Kind of reminds me of high school, when you and Devyn used to think you could sneak out without us finding out.”
“You knew?”
My mother leaned her head back and barked out a laugh. “Of course, we knew. God, did you actually think you’d gotten away with it? There were plenty of nights your father followed you, making sure the two of you were safe, even though we knew you would be.”
“Why?”
She gave me one of her usual smirks, the one that showed she knew much more than the rest of the world. “Because you were with Devyn. You’d never let anything happen to that girl.”
Her words cut deep, knowing I’d caused Devyn more pain than anyone else in her life. It was like a wound that never healed right, constantly aching when it should have faded away years ago. Some days, it was a dull throb, but nights like tonight, when she was so close yet so distant, it felt like someone was carving me up from the inside. I stared up at my mother, and my guard dropped, letting the weight of the evening finally settle around me.
She stared through me, just like she did when I was younger. So many days growing up, I’d sit in this same spot, my mother giving me the same look. Just a couple of words from Marta Anders, and I’d fold like a cheap chair.
She leaned into the counter, interlocking her fingers together. “I know that face. Even better–I know who’s usually the cause of it.”
“It’s a long story,” I chuckled, but there was no warmth in the gesture. All I wanted was to rewind the night and take back the words that spilled out of my mouth. I didn’t even know where that protective urge had come from. It was ridiculous. Devyn had never been my wife in anything other than name. But from the moment that asshole pulled up in his suped-up car, all my protective instincts came blaring to life. My mother was right about one thing—no one would ever hurt Devyn, not in front of me. I might have been the one to fracture us beyond repair, but that didn’t change how I felt. I’d do anything to keep her safe.
My mother reached out and took my hands. “Look, Gray. I know you and Devyn had a special bond growing up, but maybe it's time to let her go.”
I just shook my head, unable to say the words out loud. Honestly, I thought the same thing. Shit, I’d tried—more times than I could count. But the moment things started to get serious with anyone else, I’d shut down, unable to get Devyn out of my mind. “I don’t know if anyone else is in the cards for me.”
My mother started to interject when a loud crash echoed from the upstairs bedroom. Both of us sprang into action, dashing upstairs to find my father sprawled out on the floor, trying to get his bearings.
“Oh, Curt,” my mother cooed, trying to help him to his feet. But instead of letting her guide him, my father swatted her hands away .
“I can do it,” he hissed, shoving off to his feet. “I don’t need your help.”
“Honey, I’m just trying to?—”
“Don’t you dare call me honey,” my father snapped, getting into my mother’s face. “Only my wife can call me that. If she hears you saying that to me, trust me, she’ll make you wish you never laid eyes on me.”
“Okay,” my mother sighed, holding out her hands. “I won’t say it again. But please, Mr. Anders, let me help you into bed.”
He stared at her for a long moment, and my heart ticked harder, hoping for a glimmer of recognition. Most days, my father was fine, his usual self, his memory intact. But these episodes were getting more and more frequent, especially if he woke up in the middle of the night. The doctors warned us that there might be a day when he was lost more often than lucid, so it was important to hold on to the good days as long as we could.
But I didn’t want to measure my days with my dad in variables; I didn’t want to wonder if today would be the day he forgot me forever. But Alzheimer’s Disease didn’t care about my wants or needs. It didn’t care that I still needed my dad, still needed the man I knew him to be.
As my mother led him to the bed, my father looked at me, a slow smile creeping over his face. “You know, you look just like my son. He’s down in the city, playing ball.” His smile lit up his face. “You should see that kid pitch. He’s incredible.”
“Probably thanks to you,” I answered, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“Nah, that was all him,” my father chuckled as he laid his head against the pillow. “If you go to a game, make sure you tell them that Curt Anders sent you. My boy will take care of you.”
“Will do,” I said, taking my mom’s hand as we left him to get a few more hours of rest. As I led her down to the spare bedroom she now called home, I pulled my mother into a hug. Her breath shuddered against my chest. These moments were challenging for me, but they were even harder for her. My parents started dating right after high school, and they’d never spent more than a week away from each other in the forty years they’d been together.
She pulled back, wiping her tears away on the back of her hand. “God, Gray. I’m so sorry.”
I took her hand in mine. “You don’t have to carry this alone, Mom. I’m here for you.” I stared harder at her. “But I think you should consider what the doctor said?—”
“I’m not putting him in a home.” She shook her head. “I promised to take care of him in sickness and health, and I mean that today as much as I did back then. I’m not going to send him away just because this is the hard part.”
“It’s only going to get worse?—”
“Don’t, Gray.” The finality in her tone cut off my words. “Just…not tonight. Let me pretend for a little bit longer that everything will be alright. When we reach that step…” She swallowed slowly. “We’ll discuss all of this later.”
She stepped into her new bedroom, effectively ending any further discussions about my father’s dwindling mental state. It was okay; I was fine with putting off this discussion a little longer too. I didn’t want to live in this house without my father, needing to hear his laugh and the constant tinkering of his tools.
But the knowledge it would eventually end was always lingering there in the corner, just waiting for the moment when we were content to strike. That was the thing about living with a diagnosis like Alzheimer’s: more days than not, it felt like a guillotine was waiting over you. And one day, much sooner than you ever hoped, the rope would finally snap, and everything familiar would get washed away. You’d be left with nothing more than memories of the person sitting in front of you.
And while I was beyond thankful I still had my father with us, I couldn’t help that sting of bitter disappointment, knowing he was a shadow of himself. That one day soon, he’d look at me like a stranger while he would continue to be my hero.
I pushed these thoughts out of my mind as I walked down the stairs, waking Elsa from her place on the couch. She looked at me with tired, dark eyes but followed me into the garage, climbing the stairs to the attached loft. Originally designed as a mother-in-law suite, I’d moved up here as soon as I could in high school, excited for a slight hint of freedom. I never dreamed I’d be living here again at thirty.
While I owned a place outside of town, it felt wrong to stay there when my mother needed help, especially at night. My dad often woke up distressed, and she needed help keeping him calm. I felt more comfortable being close.
As soon as I opened the door, Elsa curled up on the queen-sized bed in the corner and closed her eyes. However, I was wide awake after the scene upstairs. Between that and my fight with Devyn, my adrenaline was at an all-time high. I walked over to my old bookshelf, the one that hadn’t shifted in over a decade, thumbing through some of my favorite titles. I picked up a sci-fi novel I’d read so often, the pages were faded and bent. As I started thumbing through them, a piece of paper tumbled out from the center, landing at my feet. When I leaned down to grab it, the pictures stared back at me. Once I held the strip in my hand, I looked over each one and smiled at the memory.
Four images lined up on the paper, all of Devyn and me from one of the summer carnivals when the town sprung for a photo booth. For a moment, I looked at the younger version of myself, but Devyn was really what had all my attention. It was odd—she looked the same yet completely different at the same time. She had the same icy blonde hair pulled into a messy bun, her usually pale skin tanned from a long summer at the beach, the same dark eyes, too mature for our age but also filled with so much life. Now, all I ever got was a scowl; in these pictures, she looked so damn happy.
Devyn’s bright smile was infectious, and I couldn’t stop staring at all the images in a row. We must have taken fifty pictures that day. She had plopped into my lap, not thinking twice about our closeness. We never did back then. My arm was slung around her waist, holding her tight as we made goofy faces at the camera.
It was still early in our friendship, before the trajectory of our lives changed and forced us apart. As I looked at the younger version of myself, my stomach twisted. In every picture, I was staring at Devyn. God, I was already obsessed; I was just too young and dumb to realize it.
Muttering under my breath, I started to tuck the photo strip back into the book but paused. As I closed the cover, I put the book back in its rightful place but kept the photos out of it. Instead, I grabbed the tape from my desk, ripped off a small piece, and put it up on my mirror.
This was ridiculous. One night with Devyn, and I was already back to obsessing over her. But it felt too good to be close to her, to smell the perfume that always lingered a few seconds after she left the room. I wanted so much more, but there was no way she felt the same.
Shaking my head, I walked away from the mirror. I pulled my shirt over my head and shoved off my jeans before climbing into bed, too emotionally drained to even deal with a shower. As Elsa curled up into my side, I closed my eyes, dreams of a past life haunting me.