“I can do as much or as little as you want, as long as he’s okay with it. I can’t come in here and strong arm him. That’ll never work.”
They stood for a moment looking at her dad, who was trying to slot the frame back into the box. This one too, was infested with mites. There didn’t seem much point in looking at any more frames, so Marsden helped her dad put the boxes back together and seal up the hives.
“Dad,” Cassie said, “with the mites and all it doesn’t sound like a good idea to keep these new bees. Mr. Marsden might be able to find someone to take them.”
Her dad removed his veil. His face was set. “I’m not giving away my bees.”
Cassie glanced at Marsden, who rubbed the back of his neck.
“Mr. Linden, the arboretum might let you keep your bees over there, the new ones that aren’t infected. I have an empty hive we could put them in. That way you could work them whenever you wanted.”
“I’m not working my bees somewhere else. I want them here. Don’t want to drive to see them.”
Cassie felt a small ping of alarm. Driving to see his bees definitely wouldn’t work. He needed to be driving less, not more. But the bees meant the world to him. What would he do if he didn’t have his bees?
She glanced at the box, which Marsden had left in the shade of the truck. They were back to square one with a box of bees and nowhere to put them. “I don’t know how we can put these near other bees,” she said. “You understand the hives are infected, right?”
“Of course I understand,” her father snapped.
Marsden stowed his hive tool in his pocket. He looked ready to be gone. “Why don’t you think it over? You can let me know any time. If you find something else, that’s fine, just be sure to get those bees situated in the next day or two.”
“Wait,” Cassie said. She was near panic at the thought of letting him get in his truck and leave. “Would you, I mean I know it’s not ideal with the mites and all, but could you bring that empty hive over here?”
Marsden looked dubious. “I guess I could. You run the risk of the infestation spreading though.” He looked at her dad. “Ifyou’re willing, we could try a couple of things with those infected hives.”
“How about we let Mr. Marsden give us a hand?” Cassie said, willing her dad to be amenable.
“Us?”Her dad scoffed. “Since when do you have anything to do with the bees?”
She tried not to bristle at his tone. She’d like to chalk it up to the frustration of dementia, but the truth was, he’d always been imperious. Making pronouncements, expecting everyone to fall in line.
“Dad.” She couldn’t quite keep the frustration from her voice. “You’re right, I’m not much of an assistant, and I’m not going to be here long anyway. You need a professional.”
Her dad was quiet for a minute.
“Fine,” he said finally. “He can bring over the extra hive, but I’m not turning over my bees to someone else.” He glowered at the two of them, as if they’d cooked up some conspiracy. “I can manage them myself,” he said and began stumping back to the house.
“I’ll bring the hive over first thing Monday,” Marsden said, then surprised her by adding quietly, “I’ve seen this happen before. People get to an age when they can’t handle it, but it’s hard to let go.”
She smiled ruefully. “You don’t want to sneak over in the middle of the night and steal them, do you?”
He shook his head. Under the right circumstances, he looked like he could have a nice smile. “Sorry.”
She waved him off from the top of the driveway to be polite. She’d been here twenty-four hours and had accomplished exactly nothing. It had been one crisis after another—the bees, Andrew.
Five o’clock. She thought about pouring herself a glass of wine but laced up her shoes instead.
Four or five miles would help.
Chapter Five
Meyer’s Toys in downtown Laurelton was just the way Cassie remembered, a treasure trove of Legos and paint sets and battery-operated cars. Cassie half expected Mr. Meyer himself to be at the register but it was a teenager she didn’t know, and she realized if Meyer were still alive, he would be her dad’s age.
She’d stopped in to look for a puzzle, something her dad might enjoy that they could do together. With his sense of order he’d always been a big puzzle person and they’d spent many family nights around the coffee table. She rifled through the ones on the shelf, but most were way too complicated, a thousand pieces or more. He would never be able to manage that. Her heart ached with how diminished he’d become. His decline was so uneven. He hadn’t yet lost the force of his personality and still spoke with conviction, even if he didn’t always know what he was talking about. But after three days, she’d begun to hear the repetition, the “loop” was the way she thought of it. He came back to chew on certain subjects, like the bees, that were top of mind.
Maybe a bee puzzle. He might like that. But she couldn’t find any and finally settled on a hundred-piece dinosaur puzzle. Was that too childish? She didn’t want to offend him either. Such a fine line to walk.
She was on her way to the register when a little girl skipped by with a doll Cassie had loved as a child, an iconic doll that had been around forever. Blond and curvy and definitely notPC anymore.What was it called?A flush of fear crawled up her throat. Everyone in the world knew this doll.Why couldn’t she think of it? This happened more lately, these sinkholes that swallowed her memory. No telling why or when it might happen. One minute she was perfectly fine and the next she couldn’t remember a goddamndoll.
