The little group began gathering coats and hats, and Allie and Davis roused the girls to get them bundled up for the cold. All the normal family sounds that Lily never thought twice about, the soundtrack of her family as it grew, but tonight, aftershe closed the door behind them, she was aware of the silence left behind.
Was this what waited for her? A quiet studio when everyone else had someone to go home to?
Evie came out of the office with her coat and purse. “Walk home together?”
Lily glanced around the studio. Part of her wanted to stay, to hide in the silence and think, but then she looked at Evie—her twin, her anchor—and the choice was easy.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll come.”
Evie waited while she gathered her things then looped her arm through Lily’s as they locked up and headed home together.
Lily had her sister. She had her family. It wasn’t the same as having someone who was hers, but for tonight, it was enough.
Still, as their boots crunched over the snow, she couldn’t help but wonder who Rush had to hold on to.
Chapter Thirty-Four
On Sunday,Rush, with Riggs on a leash next to him, walked into the Canalside Nursing Home and straight into a standoff.
Joanne, usually Pop’s favorite nurse, stood in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face. Two other nurses lined up behind her, looking equally unimpressed with their patient.
Pop sat in his recliner in his room, arms folded across his chest, lips pursed in that same stubborn line that Rush remembered from his boyhood, the one Gram never could budge when he decided something wasn’t worth doing.
“I’m not taking another damn pill,” Pop barked, glowering. “You people are trying to kill me.”
At his side, Riggs stiffened, sensing the tension, but Rush gave him a quiethush.
Marley, a pretty brunette he vaguely remembered from Rachel’s grade, shot Rush a look of pure exasperation. “He needs his heart meds.”
“Poison,” Pop said flatly. He leaned around the nurses and grinned slyly. “And here’s my lawyer. Tell ’em I don’t need any more of their snake oil.”
Rush’s heart sank, although he kept his expression neutral. On his bad days, Pop didn’t recognize him at all or thought he was someone from the past. Guess today was a bad day.
Riggs padded forward and set his chin on Pop’s knee. Pop’s hand dropped automatically to scratch behind his ears even while his eyes stayed locked on Rush.
“If you don’t take these, Riggs will,” Rush said, crouching down to scoop up the paper cup and pills on the floor.
Pop narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t let him.”
“No,” Rush said easily. “But if you keep throwing them around, he might find one by accident.”
Riggs sighed long and loud, as if in agreement.
“Fine.” Pop heaved a sigh, making a big show of downing a fresh set of pills with a swig of apple juice. The nurses left, but not before Marley tossed a grateful wink his way. When the door shut, Rush caught the gleam in Pop’s eye. The old man looked too pleased with himself to be having a bad day.
Relief washed through him. That was the thing about Alzheimer’s—you never knew what you were walking into. Some days, Pop was lost in the past and had no recollection of him or the girls, but on others, he was as sharp and clear as the man who’d raised them. It was impossible to anticipate, and Rush never realized how much he braced himself until moments like this one, when the tension broke and left him grateful for something as simple as recognition. Even if Pop was a pain in the ass to his nurses.
Riggs’s ears pricked up, and a second later, Rachel breezed into the room with Sarah behind her. Rachel still wore her blue scrubs from her early shift at Northfield General, carrying two grocery bags, while Sarah held a tray of fancy coffees.
“We brought lunch,” Rachel said, bending to kiss Pop on the cheek and plant one on Riggs’s snout too.
“Thanks,” Rush said automatically, already reaching for his wallet. “Pops and I are starving. How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing,” Rachel cut in, giving him the same no-nonsense look Pop used to shoot across the dinner table. “My treat. I’m working now, remember?”
Rush frowned. “Rachel, how much? I’ve got it.”
Rachel straightened and put her hands on her hips. “I realize this is hard for you to accept, but we’re not kids anymore. Thanks to you, we both have degrees—or almost do. We can buy lunch for you and Pop if we want to.” Her expression softened. “Let us take care of you for once.”
