Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
On Sunday, Rush, with Riggs on a leash next to him, walked into the Canalside Nursing Home and straight into a standoff.
Joanne, usually Pop’s favorite nurse, stood in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face. Two other nurses lined up behind her, looking equally unimpressed with their patient.
Pop sat in his recliner in his room, arms folded across his chest, lips pursed in that same stubborn line that Rush remembered from his boyhood, the one Gram never could budge when he decided something wasn’t worth doing.
“I’m not taking another damn pill,” Pop barked, glowering. “You people are trying to kill me.”
At his side, Riggs stiffened, sensing the tension, but Rush gave him a quiet hush.
Marley, a pretty brunette he vaguely remembered from Rachel’s grade, shot Rush a look of pure exasperation. “He needs his heart meds.”
“Poison,” Pop said flatly. He leaned around the nurses and grinned slyly. “And here’s my lawyer. Tell ’em I don’t need any more of their snake oil.”
Rush’s heart sank, although he kept his expression neutral. On his bad days, Pop didn’t recognize him at all or thought he was someone from the past. Guess today was a bad day.
Riggs padded forward and set his chin on Pop’s knee. Pop’s hand dropped automatically to scratch behind his ears even while his eyes stayed locked on Rush.
“If you don’t take these, Riggs will,” Rush said, crouching down to scoop up the paper cup and pills on the floor.
Pop narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t let him.”
“No,” Rush said easily. “But if you keep throwing them around, he might find one by accident.”
Riggs sighed long and loud, as if in agreement.
“Fine.” Pop heaved a sigh, making a big show of downing a fresh set of pills with a swig of apple juice. The nurses left, but not before Marley tossed a grateful wink his way. When the door shut, Rush caught the gleam in Pop’s eye. The old man looked too pleased with himself to be having a bad day.
Relief washed through him. That was the thing about Alzheimer’s—you never knew what you were walking into.
Some days, Pop was lost in the past and had no recollection of him or the girls, but on others, he was as sharp and clear as the man who’d raised them.
It was impossible to anticipate, and Rush never realized how much he braced himself until moments like this one, when the tension broke and left him grateful for something as simple as recognition.
Even if Pop was a pain in the ass to his nurses.
Riggs’s ears pricked up, and a second later, Rachel breezed into the room with Sarah behind her. Rachel still wore her blue scrubs from her early shift at Northfield General, carrying two grocery bags, while Sarah held a tray of fancy coffees.
“We brought lunch,” Rachel said, bending to kiss Pop on the cheek and plant one on Riggs’s snout too.
“Thanks,” Rush said automatically, already reaching for his wallet. “Pops and I are starving. How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing,” Rachel cut in, giving him the same no-nonsense look Pop used to shoot across the dinner table. “My treat. I’m working now, remember?”
Rush frowned. “Rachel, how much? I’ve got it.”
Rachel straightened and put her hands on her hips. “I realize this is hard for you to accept, but we’re not kids anymore. Thanks to you, we both have degrees—or almost do. We can buy lunch for you and Pop if we want to.” Her expression softened. “Let us take care of you for once.”
“Hold on. Let’s not be hasty.” Sarah popped the lid off her coffee and licked the whipped cream. “If Rush wants to keep funding us after graduation, who am I to argue?”
“Sarah,” Rachel barked, in full big-sister mode, and Rush nearly laughed. Even he recognized himself in that tone. “He’s paid every dime of our college education so we could get good jobs and pay for ourselves.”
“Kidding, kidding,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes. She sipped her coffee then grinned. “But for the record, I don’t graduate until the spring. And you know we love you, Rush.”
He didn’t doubt it. Taking care of the girls had never felt like a burden. He didn’t mind—he liked knowing they were safe and happy. He’d kept that promise, at least.
Pop poked through the grocery bags, muttering with approval as he pulled out an assortment of cured deli meats and cheeses, antipasto, and a loaf of Italian bread. “He’s right, girls,” he said gruffly. “He’s looked after you all this time.”
Rush’s throat tightened, and he cleared it quickly. Okay. Enough of that. “What’s new with you two?”
Sarah tore off the end of the crusty loaf of bread and slathered it with butter. “Let’s talk about you instead. How was your date with Lily?”
Pop’s head lifted sharply. “Lily who?”
“Lily Hart,” Rachel said. “One of the Hart girls from the village. She owns that yoga-and-dance studio, right?”
Here we go. Rush concentrated on making his sandwich. “We’re friends.” And maybe not even that anymore, the helpful voice in his head reminded him.
Not after Friday night when he’d messed things up by having a panic attack and practically drop-kicking Lily at her door.
Sarah arched a brow. “Funny, Monica saw you two walking around Candlelight Night together, looking real cozy.”
Of course Monica did. He should’ve arrested her last summer for indecent exposure when she climbed half naked into his truck.
“I’m not dating Lily,” Rush said flatly. He tossed Riggs the last bite of his sandwich and folded up his paper plate, already planning his exit. It was his day off. There were a hundred things on his to-do list before his move next month.
Rachel only smiled faintly. “You shaved your scruff. Even trimmed that mustache. Men only bother with grooming when they want to impress someone.”
Pop gave a wheezy chuckle. “She’s got you there.”
Rush scowled. “I shave.”
“Barely,” Rachel countered, looking amused. “Rush, we’re not meddling. We just want you to be happy.”
“Yeah,” Sarah added quickly. “And maybe not spend Christmas alone again. You and Riggs can’t just hole up in the house.”
Rush leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Where are you two headed?”
“Ski trip with friends,” Rachel said.
“Perfect,” Rush said. “I’ll pick up some overtime.”
“Or,” Rachel said softly, “you could spend Christmas with someone who actually makes you smile.” She hesitated, searching his face. “Boston’s not the only future you could have, you know.”
Rush kept his face unreadable, even if that one stung. “Boston’s the future I want.”
Sarah exchanged a look with Rachel. “Fine. You and Pop can spend the holiday together.”
“Leave me out of it,” Pop said. “Joanne promised me a rematch of our game.”
Rush pushed back his chair and stood. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
The girls exchanged another look, but they didn’t press, and he was thankful.
They finished lunch and a few hands of poker, during which Pops cheated outrageously and still managed to win every hand.
Eventually, he began to fade, the sharp glint in his eyes softening to a hazy tiredness.
He got turned around looking for the bathroom down the hall, muttering to himself, so the girls gathered their bags and kissed him goodbye, promising to be back next Sunday.
Rush stayed behind, helping Pop into his flannel pajama top and guiding him into bed. Pop’s hands shook as he climbed under the covers, and his eyes went glassy and unfocused.
“You’re all right, Pop. Just rest,” Rush murmured.
Pop blinked up at him, confusion flickering in and out. He reached out and caught Rush’s wrist with a surprisingly forceful grip.
“I’m proud of you, my boy,” Pop said.
Rush froze. He looked up, searching Pop’s face for signs of confusion, expecting to see the distant haze that came more and more often. Instead, he found sharp recognition staring back at him.
“Thanks, Pop,” he managed, forcing his voice to stay even. “I’m proud of you too.”
Pop shook his head faintly. “No. I mean it. You’ve been a good grandson. Better than good. You took care of your sisters. Now you’re taking care of me. You’ve carried us all when you didn’t have to.”
The words landed like a punch, straight to the center of his chest. Rush looked down at the remote, concentrating on the numbers instead of the emotions swelling inside.
“Loving people means forgiving yourself too,” Pop said quietly. “You can’t keep punishing yourself forever.”
The bottom dropped out of Rush’s stomach. He stiffened, pulse spiking as icy-cold water threatened to drown him again. Forgive himself? Christ. He didn’t even know what that would look like. How could he, when a little girl lived without her mom because of him? Because he didn’t do enough.
Lily’s soft green eyes flashed in his mind, and Rush knew she’d say the same thing.
He shoved the thought away hard, fumbled for the remote, and clicked through the channels.
“What channel do you want to watch? The Bills play tonight. It’s their year, ya know?
” He kept his voice calm even as his heart surged in his chest, thumping madly.
Pop sighed and leaned back, and just as quickly, the clarity dimmed. He closed his eyes, already drifting in a world that didn’t include Rush.
Rush sank back in the chair with the remote loose in his hand now. Riggs pressed warm and solid against his leg, sensing that Rush was in another world too.
Love. Forgiveness. He wasn’t sure either belonged to him.