“Well, we have to head down Ridge Road, take a left on Thornhill, which takes us to Oak. We can either jump on theparkway for an exit or cut over on Mill River. Whatever you think.”
He waved off the directions. “Tell me when we’re in the car.”
“What if I wasn’t with you?” she said gently. “How would you know how to go?”
“I wouldn’t be going on my own,” he countered, but his face fell. He still had enough lawyer left in him to realize the faultiness of his logic.
“I know it’s hard, but do you think you should still be driving? It was time for me to sell the apartment; it’s time to move out of this house. I think it’s time for you to stop driving too, Daddy. It’s not safe anymore.” She held out her hand for the keys. “I’m going to be around; you can’t get rid of me. I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”
He hesitated and she feared it might go badly, but no way was he getting behind the wheel.
“You don’t know the car. The brakes are finicky.”
“I’ve been driving it without any problem for the last four months. But I tell you what, why don’t you explain it to me when we get in the car.” The brakes were fine. She’d had everything checked out when the wiper issue was fixed. She was tempted to pluck the keys out of his hand, but she would never rob him of his dignity that way.
“You can’t drive it like this,” he said.
“Why not?” She was beginning to get frustrated. Their appointment was in fifteen minutes, and he wasn’t budging.
“The windshield is dirty.” He’d always insisted on cleaning the windshield when she was a teenager, making her wait while he meticulously sprayed the glass and polished it with a rag. Then planted himself at the top of the driveway and watched her turn around. It used to drive her crazy.
“Let’s clean it, then.” She didn’t point out that he’d been about to set off himself without the benefit of Windex.
“I’ll do it.”
“Thank you,” she said, relieved they’d avoided a confrontation. At least he would feel in control of something. “I’m glad you thought of it.”
He nodded and handed over the keys like it had been his intention all along.
...
The woman who met them at Riverside Gardens was pleasant and cheerful, and Cassie’s dad took an instant dislike to her. But in the mood he was in he might have taken offense to anyone.
“I’m Joy,” the woman told them, and Cassie couldn’t help wondering if that was her real name or one she used to jolly up the residents, a few of whom were lingering in the TV room after lunch. With its shutters and grand porticoed entrance, the residence appeared more like a genteel New England inn than an assisted living facility. Inside was clean and bright with a large black and white dog lounging by the reception desk.
“Who’s this?” Cassie asked.
“That’s Leo,” Joy said. “He’s the house dog. The staff takes turns bringing him home at night, but he hangs out here during the day. He’s very friendly; you can pet him.” She directed this to Cassie’s father, who ignored her.
Joy seemed unfazed. She was obviously used to a certain amount of resistance from prospective residents. “How about a tour?”
“That would be wonderful,” Cassie said.
Joy showed them the dining room, with tables for eight set with white napkins and tablecloths. A nice touch, even if her dad wouldn’t appreciate it. And the community room withcouches and comfortable chairs, the wall-mounted TV and built-in bookshelves.
“A lady from the library brings us new books every couple of weeks,” Joy said. “And if there’s something you want that you don’t see, we can ask them. They’re very accommodating.”
“Look, they have puzzles too,” Cassie pointed out, but her father either didn’t hear or didn’t bother responding.
It was difficult, no question. The house had been sold to a young family, the one Beth had mentioned, but Cassie’s dad still dragged his feet whenever possible. She’d sold the patio furniture online, and when the buyer showed up Andrew had to persuade his grandfather to let them take it. Andrew had offered to come today, but Cassie didn’t want him to miss his shift at the grocery store.
Cassie touched her father’s arm. “Want to see the rooms?”
“I suppose so.”
The model suite was bland, with hotel art and drapes that matched the bedspread. At least they could bring some of her dad’s furniture so it would feel more like home. Her father lowered himself into an armchair. It had been four months since his ankle injury and he wasn’t using the cane anymore, but since the heart attack he tired easily.
“Can we have a few minutes?” Cassie asked Joy, who was all set to whisk them off to see the patio.
