I about drop my tea mug to clutch at my heart. “Adam.No.”
Adam nods, his eyes dropping to my hand briefly before falling to his own mug. “He asked me to keep an extra eye on him, and make sure he was even more protected than usual from things like scams.” He glances at me. “I know Gramps wouldn’t wantyou to know this, but I’m telling you so you can keep an eye on him as well.” Adam blinks rapidly while taking a deep breath. He’s trying not to cry.
I place my hand over his on the table. “It’s okay. I won’t tell him I know. And I’ll watch him. I can see your house from my bedroom. Whenever I can, I’ll make sure he isn’t—” I rack my brain for things that people with dementia might do. “Wandering around or anything like that. I can check on him throughout the week, too, if you want. Bring him more meals and stuff like that.”
Adam lets out a deep sigh. “Thanks for understanding. And I don’t think we’re at that level yet, but I appreciate the offer.”
I lift my hand, only then realizing how warm his had been. The tea is too hot to sip, but I wish I could, because I need a second…or, like, a million seconds…to process this. To cry. William is up there in years, but he’s so stubborn and sturdy, I assumed he’d be around for a couple more decades, at least. I say a prayer to the old gods that whatever the symptoms his doctor’s worried about are, it’s just regular old-age stuff.
“Well, let me know anytime if there’s anything you need with William. I…I really do care about him, Adam. He’s been one of my only—” I pause, taking a moment to swallow. “He’s a good friend.”
Adam nods and sips his tea, grimacing.
I frown. “What’s the matter?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Nothing. I just really fucking hate tea.”
This gets a chuckle out of me. “Why did you make some for yourself, then?”
He runs a hand over the stubble of his chin. “I have no idea, Sky.”
I take a sip of my own tea. It’s a blend of mint and maybeechinacea root. Very herbal and green. I’m sure if Sage were here, she could give it a single glance and tell me every ingredient.
I swallow and glance at Adam once more. “I’m glad you explained your behavior to me. About the accusations and all that. I understand it, especially given—” I wave my hand toward William’s bedroom. “But…”
“But…” he says, giving me a soft half smile.
I set my mug down again. “But you owe me two apologies, actually. I’m still waiting for the other one.”
Adam raises his eyebrows. “Uhh—”
“At Nate Bowen’s wedding to Fern?”
His eyebrows drop. “Oh?”
I roll my eyes. “You were incredibly condescending toward me when I was just chilling with some pigeons and chipmunks.”
“Well—”
I continue on before he can give me another annoying lecture about various pathogens living on feathers. “And then I heard you laughing about it—aboutme—in the parking lot afterward. When you left with that woman. Remember that?”
Adam buries his face in his hands. “Fuuuck.”
I tap my fingers against the hard wood of the table. “That’s not an apology.”
Adam keeps his hands over his face and I think he might be nodding under them. “Fuck,” he repeats.
I shake my head. “Still not an apology.”
He lets his hands fall to the table and stares right at me. The eye contact is a little intense, so I force my own gaze to the swallowing motion of his Adam’s apple. “I’m sorry for being condescending to you that day. The day of the wedding. And I’m sorry for laughing at you later. It’s not an excuse but…I’d beendrinking. I am…I didn’t know it at the time, but I am my worst self when I’ve had a few too many.”
“It’s why you stopped?” I ask. “Drinking, I mean?”
Adam nods. “Luckily I stopped before it became more serious of a problem.”
“Well. Yeah. That’s a good thing.” I look down.
“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Sorry. I was just being as honest as I can. I was an asshole to you back then. And I was an asshole to you last week. I know you heard Gramps…I’m not in a good place. I’m unemployed—”
