Honey guided him to his recliner. Everything in the new house felt closer and easier. Fewer rooms for CT to get lost in. And somehow the smaller house didn’t feel crowded. Really, it was a good thing they’d made this move. Honey would get used to it, eventually. And fortunately, despite their rocky start to the day, CT hadn’t mentioned that anything was different even once. Maybe he’d already forgotten the old farmhouse. How long until he forgot her? He seemed to get confused while looking at her sometimes, and she knew the day would come when he wouldn’t know her at all. She felt a lump in her throat when she considered the inevitable. But what would she do about it then? She inhaled a deep, soothing breath. She didn’t need to think about that now.
As she took her time to clean up the breakfast things, putting the tidy little kitchen back into apple-pie order, Honey remembered her old friend Donna and how they’d reconnected at the barbecue, even discussing a follow-up coffee date. Of course, after CT’s outburst against their poor host, Honey had been too embarrassed to call Donna for a coffee date later that week. And then she blamed her procrastination on her demanding life and too many distractions. But maybe she’d give Donna a call and invite her to meet up once the missing bees debacle was settled. Because Honey knew she needed someone to talk to. Someone outside of her family. More than ever lately.
Whether it was right or wrong, Honey had acquired the habitof putting up a strong front for Jewel and Cooper. Sometimes she felt like a phony, but not wanting to trouble them with her problems, she kept her ever-growing concerns to herself ... and to God. She knew the girls had their own struggles. Raising a sometimes-willful adolescent wasn’t easy for anyone. Add to that Jewel’s big B&B plans and setting up Honeymoon Cottage, well, it was enough to deal with. And young Cooper, still getting used to everything here, was building new friendships, meeting neighbors, and just being a confused teenager ... that was a lot.
So grateful for their help, Honey didn’t want to upset things with her heartaches and fears. And the truth was CT did frighten her at times. There were those moments when he was so disoriented he didn’t even recognize her. And more than once he’d accused her of being in cahoots with Miguel and even being romantically involved with the young man. That was worse than ridiculous but very real to him.
Then there were mornings when he was so disoriented he thought he was in his childhood home and she was his mother. Sometimes he got so confused and agitated over the imaginings, she couldn’t predict what he’d do. And she was equally unsure of what she should do if something went seriously sideways. And she knew that it could. And it probably would ... eventually. She just didn’t know when “eventually” would arrive.
The dementia books she’d read and reread described this behavior as the final stages of FTD. And for the last stages, when a patient became too difficult, the only option the experts recommended was supervision in a full-time memory care facility.
Honey hated the idea of this. She knew that CT would hate it even more. At least the old CT would. That can-do CT. The man’s man who’d farmed and hunted, driven and repaired farm trucks and tractors, been king of his outdoor world—that man would rather be six feet under than locked down in some bleak nursing home reeking of urine and disinfectant. And who could blame him? If she were in his shoes, she’d feel the same.
She could still remember the conversation they’d had after his father had been put in an institution like that. His dad had been diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s, but now Honey suspected it had been FTD as well. Concerned for his dad, CT and Honey had flown to Phoenix to visit him in his care facility. But they’d been appalled at the nursing home. CT had been so upset, he’d gotten into a full-blown argument with his stepmom, Dorothy, criticizing the poor woman for allowing such a travesty.
Honey glanced over to see that CT was now asleep in his chair, his familiar movie playing loudly. She sighed and refilled her coffee mug, then sat down at the kitchen table. She ran her hand over the familiar worn wood. She was afraid the old-fashioned farm table and chairs would look out of place in their new, modern house, but it actually seemed to lend some sweet charm to the place.
Maybe CT, like his dad, would be so impaired by the final stages, he wouldn’t know the difference if he needed to be in a nursing home. Tears began to flow at the thought of this. She’d been crying more and more lately. Not when anyone was watching, of course, because it only seemed to stress others out. But in her quiet moments alone, she’d been trying to let her tears flow freely. She’d read that her pent-up emotions could raise her blood pressure, and she sure didn’t need more of that!
Honey tore off a paper towel strip and used it to blot her eyes and blow her nose, then taking a deep breath, she looked out the kitchen window. Taking a few more slow, deep breaths, she gazed across the rich green alfalfa field. So peaceful, so calming. And then she began to relax, realizing she really did feel a bit better after a short cry.
She whispered her favorite prayer a few times and was grateful for its soothing. “Let go and let God.” Sometimes it was all she could muster in the form of faith.
She tossed her damp paper towel in the trash, then turned back to check on CT. Not to her surprise, he was gone. His favoritedisappearing act. Just vanish without a word. That man! Despite his awkward shuffling walk, he could still slip away unnoticed when he wanted. She checked the master bedroom and bath. Finding both empty, she knew he’d gone outside. Probably in search of his beloved bees.
28
Jewel
To distract herself from obsessing over Cooper and the missing bees, Jewel got serious about emptying out the kitchen cabinets, removing everything except the essentials needed for her and Cooper to fix basic meals. Then she packed all the odds and ends, some that probably hadn’t seen the light of day in decades, into the recycled moving boxes she’d stashed in the barn for just this purpose.
Finally it was past noon and she’d received no word from her daughter, so she shot her a text. In return, Cooper sent back a couple of disturbing photos of a huge living ball of honeybees clinging to the trunk of a big tree. Did Coop think that was reassuring?
Still, determined not to worry, Jewel picked up one of the heavy boxes to take out to the barn. She was barely down the back porch steps when a familiar pickup drove a bit too fast up the driveway. What was Aaron doing here now? He pulled right up to the porch, then jumped out and insisted on taking the box from her. Relieved for the help, she gladly handed it over.
“It’s heavy.” He huffed as he took it.
“It’s full of old cast iron.” She walked beside him.
“Throwing it out?”
“No, I think it was my great-grandma’s. I plan to have somekind of sale. There’s so much old stuff to get rid of. I’m hoping Cooper will help.”
“Might be some valuable pieces,” he said as she opened the barn door for him.
“Maybe.” She pointed to a stack of boxes. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” He grinned as he set the new box on top.
“So, what are you doing here?” she asked.
“I came to give you an estimate. You texted that you were ready to move forward, and I wasn’t busy.”
“Oh, wow.” She smiled. “Thanks. That’d be great. Come on into the house and look around. It’s kind of a mess since we were in the midst of getting my parents moved into the new house.”
“How’s that going?”
“So far, so good. Well, except for Dad’s bees.”
