“I’ve seen my share of cases, but I’m no specialist,” Dr. Mandel added. “I would suggest taking him to see a neurologist for a concrete diagnosis and treatment plan. In the meantime, I’m prescribing donepezil, a common medication for someone in your father’s condition.”
His condition. Losing his memories, his education, his sense of himself…
“He’s only fifty-eight,” I said thickly. “He’s so young,”
Dr. Mandel leaned over his knees. “I’m so sorry, Xander. Do you have anyone at home to provide support?”
“No,” I said darkly. “But this medication will help?”
Dr. Mandel nodded. “Have him take it right before bed. It should alleviate nighttime wandering and slow down the cognitive decline, but it’s not a cure. Again, I recommend a specialist—”
“I’m ready to go,” my dad said, appearing behind the doctor. He mustered a weak smile. “Come on, son. Let’s blow this joint.”
Dr. Mandel shook our hands. “Don’t hesitate to call if you have questions.”
In the car, my normally jovial dad was sullen and quiet.
“I don’t need a specialist,” he said finally as I drove the Buick back to Castle Hill.
“Dad—”
“You’re seventeen years old. I’m still the adult here. I get to decide what to do, and I say I’m just fine. I’ll take the medicine, but that’s it. If—if—things get…harder, then we can reassess.”
“I can stay home,” I said. “I’ll quit school. It’s stupid to go anyway—”
“You’ll stay home and do what?” Dad asked, shaking his head. “I have work to do, and I don’t need you hovering over my shoulder while I do it.”
“But Dad—”
“Don’t do that, Alexander,” he said gravely. “Don’t act like it’s over.”
We’d come to a red light. I looked over at my father and saw the fear in his eyes. His brilliant eyes, through which he had delved deep into the quantum realm and shared what he found there. Whatever genius I possessed was only a fraction of his, and to think he might be losing everything…
“I’m not ready yet, son,” he said. “Not yet. Okay?”
I swallowed the tears down, like a hard lump in my throat. “Okay, Dad,” I said. “Okay.”
He smiled and gave my cheek a pat. The light changed, and we drove on. He seemed happy again. Like himself.
Because he’s still himself. He’s still here.
“So!” he said after a minute. “Given any thought about a Halloween costume this year?”
“I have actually. I’m going as one of the world’s greatest physicists.”
“Oh yeah?” Dad rubbed his chin. “Hmm, let me guess. Heisenberg? Feynman? Or your namesake, good ole Erwin?” He chuckled.
“Nope,” I said.
“Who, then?”
“You.”
Chapter 17
Emery
“Remind me why we’re out here again?” Harper asked, bundled in her puffy coat that went all the way down to her fuzzy boots and had probably been in style in the 1980s. She narrowed her eyes against the bracing wind that came across the Narragansett.
