She slid into the driver’s seat for a look, bumping the wiper arm by mistake. They swished on briskly, chafing against the dry windshield. That was annoying. She went to turn them off, but they kept on going. She moved the lever in the other direction. Okay. How ridiculous was this. She knew how to turn off windshield wipers. She tried the other arm just in case, but that was the turn signal. She switched that off, but the wipers were still going full speed. She felt a sudden surge of anxiety. How could she not know how to turn off windshield wipers?
A terrible thought overtook her.
This was how it had been with her mom. Simple tasks that she was suddenly unable to do. Putting on lipstick, even making the bed. Her mom used to get confused about how to pull up the comforter and put the pillows in place. Which step came first. In a sweat, Cassie ran through her coworker’s names:Leslie Gaines. Malcolm Boskovitch. Fritz Irwin. Judith…what was Judith’s last name? But Judith was in another department, and Cassie didn’t see her that much. Oh God. She should know Judith’s last name. She’d been there for years.
She dropped her head on the steering wheel, startling when the horn sounded. This was it. Her memory was starting to fail. What she’d dreaded since she was sixteen. The precipitous decline—already she couldn’t remember her coworker’s name! And now, something as simple as windshield wipers. In a sweat, she tried the lever again, then in a panic scanned the dash. Okay, maybe not a lever after all. Maybe a knob. Her heart pounded as she pressed every button she could think of. No. That was the hazards. That was the radio! That wasn’t it. It was probably right in front of her. Anyone else would see it in a second.
She scrambled out of the car but couldn’t escape the obvious. She was forty-nine, the same age as her mother when it began. She might have one more good year, but everything would become harder. Soon she wouldn’t be able to hide it at work. Straightforward matters would become byzantine. Even everyday tasks around the house would become difficult. Making coffee, measuring laundry detergent. Where did you put it? How much were you supposed to use? AndAndrew.She teared up just thinking about how much she would miss, the years of his life she wouldn’t get to see. Graduating from college, getting married. If she was still alive, she would be oblivious.
And Glenn. Just when she’d found a man who rocked her world.
“You okay, what’s the matter?” Glenn said, slightly out of breath from hoofing it up the driveway. “I heard the horn and saw you jump out.”
“The wipers,” she sobbed. “I can’t remember how to turn them off.”
He ducked into the car and fiddled with the lever. “They’re not working. Could be a switch but the whole electrical system has probably gone fluky. I wondered if it might be something electrical when I heard that noise.” He gave them another try for good measure. “What year is this thing anyway?”
She sniffed. “You mean you can’t turn them off either?”
He moved the arm up and down. “Nope. Not working.” He shut off the engine and the wipers froze midstream.
She let out a shaky breath. It felt like someone had been sitting on her chest and now they weren’t. “So it’s not me?”
He slid out of the car and wrapped her in a hug. “No. It’s not you.” He held her tight, and she didn’t care that Andrew had come out of the house and was gaping at them. She didn’t even care that a man had had to rescue her. Right now, she needed Glenn. Period.
“Um…Mom?” Andrew was holding a manila folder. “I found the Lexus file.”
She wiped her eyes. “Ok, that’s good.”
Glenn started to step back, but she kept a hand on his arm. He was warm and solid and just touching him made her feel better. “Andrew, you know Glenn.”
Andrew nodded. He looked like he’d bitten into a candy with an unexpected filling and wasn’t sure whether to swallow or spit it out. “We met that day with the powdered sugar.”
“That’s right,” she said. “The powdered sugar.”
“I’ll uh go see how Grandpa’s doing.” Andrew set the file on the hood of the car and took off down the driveway.
Cassie couldn’t help smiling. “He doesn’t know what to do with this.” She gestured to the two of them. Her heart rate was beginning to return to normal, but the Alzheimer’s scare was real and terrifying. And just because it hadn’t happened today, didn’t mean it wouldn’t.
She swallowed. In two weeks she would know for sure.
Glenn gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You okay?”
“Not really. What if I do have Alzheimer’s?”
“Don’t look for trouble. This had nothing to do with you. Anyway, you have a more pressing problem.”
She glanced up in alarm. “I do?”
“Andrew and your dad are alone with the bees.”
Chapter Seventeen
Taking the hives on the road was a royal pain. Sealing them up so the bees could breathe but not escape, muscling them onto the truck, securing them so they wouldn’t go sailing off when he hit a bump. You had to do it right or you could piss off a lot of bees. So Glenn was glad Lilah was coming along to help. He hadn’t even asked, and here she was wheeling the dolly out of the shed.
“You want it in the truck?” She already had her bee jacket on; he hadn’t had to remind her about that either.
“Yup. No reason to wheel them across the yard.” He took the dolly from her and hefted it into the truck bed. The dolly wasn’t regulation bee equipment, just a cart like UPS guys used, but Lilah had painted it bright blue and christened it Dolly. Some beekeepers put clamps on the sides to hold the boxes in place, but he’d found if he kept the angle right they didn’t slide off.
