Bill snorts again. “The fact that you think you have an option in the matter is hilarious.”
“How’s my mom?” I ask, pulling the topic away from bloody body parts and back to the real reason I know Bill called.
The pause at the other end of the line tells me everything I need to know—it’s bad. Between one heartbeat and the next, I’ve planned my flight back to Colorado, considered three get-rich-quick schemes to fund my mom’s care once Trent fires me, and mentally sorted through every piece of information I’ve ever read about Alzheimer’s progression.
“She had a pretty significant episode yesterday afternoon. She was tired, and a school bus with a high school basketball team traveling through stopped to eat.”
I tense, not liking where this is going at all. Crowded places and overstimulation are both called out as things to avoid for people with dementia.
Bill continues, “She tried to help, though Milly and I both hustled out to take over from her. It was so busy. I didn’t realize something was wrong until after they all had their food.”
I’m not breathing. My mom. The only person I have in this world.
“Mildred found her in the back by the trash cans, rocking slightly as she covered her ears.”
“I’m coming home,” I cut in.
“You’re not,” Bill replies in a gruff voice. “Mildred talked to Alice, and she quickly came back to herself. I drove her to the hospital, and Dr. Pendleton shuffled her patients so she could get your mom in right away. It’s not clear if she just became overstimulated or if it’s a symptom of something else.”
“Like what?” I ask, sensing he’s holding information back from me.
“Doc is worried it might be depression, though that’s just one possibility.”
“I thought we’d made it through the point where most people develop depression.” Then another possibility occurs to me, the one Bill might be trying to shelter me from. “Is it because I left? Is it because she’s alone that the doctor thinks it might be depression?”
“No. After talking to your mom, we think overstimulation is the most likely answer, but Mildred and I came over for dinner at your normal time last night, and we’ll keep that up until you’re back. We can handle a routine just fine without you here, Carter.”
“I can’t believe you waited almost a full day to tell me this, Bill,” I say, my voice betraying just how angry I am. Angry I wasn’t called immediately. Angry I wasn’t there to help. Angry my mom, who hasalready had to deal with so much shit in her life, also has to deal with losing her memory—by herself.
“It was the middle of the night over there when it happened. And there was nothing you could’ve done to help, Carter. Even if you’d been here, it might’ve happened, and there still wouldn’t have been anything you could’ve done to help other than sit on your ass in the waiting room with me.”
I push my fingertips into the corners where my eyebrows meet my nose, breathing deeply as I press along my eyebrows to work the tension out.
“I haven’t talked to her in a few days,” I say, the guilt growing in my stomach. Since Jaxon’s concerts have started, I’m busy most of the day, and even with my mornings typically free, it’s still the middle of the night there.
“Your mom can handle you being gone for a few weeks. Mildred and I are here, and we’ve got everything under control. I promise I’ll call immediately if it’s something you need to know about.”
“No matter what time it is,” I state, not even bothering to phrase it as a question.
“No matter what time it is. Now, you just stay focused on what’s important over there.”
“Making sure we win this contract.”
“No, that’s not—”
“I know, Bill. I know how important it is that I win this contract for Trent. He’s already threatened to fire me if we don’t.” The energy is flowing through me, forcing me to pace, todosomething. Bill’s right.I need this job, and I can’t let anything get in my way of being able to provide for my mom.
“Carter, I know your job is important, but it’s not ev—”
I cut him off. “I gotta go, Bill. Thanks for the update and all you’re doing for my mom. Call me anytime.”
I know just what I need to do to make sure we win Jaxon’s long-term security contract.
Chapter fifteen
Kelsey
“Ican’tbelieveIlet you talk me into a virtual coffee date at seven forty-five in the morning,” Sam says dramatically. Sam is JT Johnson’s assistant and came into my life six months ago when we had to stage an intervention. It went spectacularly—his words, not mine. We somehow became friends, likely due to our shared disdain for the human population.
