I’m ashamed to face Aspen’s grandfather, but I sign in anyway. I need to apologize, even if he doesn’t understand. I should look into treatments that might delay the pace of his memory loss. There might be new and experimental therapies available, as long as you can afford them. I should also figure out a way to pay for his stay here without alerting Aspen that I’m the one paying. She’ll never accept it if she knows, but I can’t bear to see her continue to struggle.
I don’t ever want her to take abuse from anybody because of money she needs to take care of her grandfather.
I go to the third floor. Many of the residents are watching TV, although there’s a group playing bingo with a young aide.
Kenny isn’t in the breakroom. I speak to one of the nurses, and she says he went to his room. We go over together.
“He’s been a bit lethargic since this morning. Probably because he was overly energetic last night. They were showing an old episode fromDancing with the Stars, and that got him excited.”
I smile. “That’s like him. He loves to dance.”
“He does.” She beams. “It was so cute.”
Kenny’s door isn’t closed. He’s lying in bed, looking out the window, but turns his head before the nurse can say anything to him.
“Oh, hey.” He smiles slowly.
She pats my shoulder. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
“Thanks.” I approach him. Anxiety winds me tight. I’m not sure how he’s going to react to my apology. Or how I should go about it so I don’t end up making him violent, like last time. Actually, his getting violent with me was deserved, I decide. He can hit me all he wants if it makes him feel better. “Hello, sir.”
“Hi,” he says, his eyes searching my features with the quiet desperation of someone who’s trying to put a name to the face.
“I’m Grant. I’m one of Aspen’s…friends.” My chest aches with regret and guilt at the lie. She and I could’ve been more. So much more.
He gives me a toothy grin. “Another one? She sure is popular, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is.”
“I’m so glad she has so many friends.” He gazes at me.
“Lots and lots,” I reassure him.
He pats my hand. “I know.” He pauses for a second, then blinks. “Every girl in my life is a marshmallow. Kat. Georgia. And Aspen.”
“Who’s Georgia?”
“Aspen’s mom. You never met her. She died when Aspen was just a baby. Aspen never knew her parents.” Kenny looks sad. “That’s why she’s the softest marshmallow of us all. She’s just so defenseless. Not knowing your parents’ love does that to you.”
“You gave her all the love,” I remind him gently.
“But I’m not her dad. Kat’s not her mom. Aspen knows we worry. She tries to pretend she’s a prickly pear, but we can see she’s just a marshmallow.”
“She is.” And I did everything in my power to crush her. I don’t think I could feel worse.
“Can you be there for her when she’s hurting? I can’t always be there. I’m here. Trapped here.” His eyes appear clear and lucid, although he can’t be if he is asking me this favor. I can’t imagine Aspen hiding the bet from him, especially when she had to leave school because of the fallout.
“Of course. I’ll always be there for her.” Whether he recognizes me or not, whether he remembers this or not, I’m keeping this promise.
He smiles. “You’re such a good boy. I just knew when I saw you. You look at her the way I look at Kat. You want her happy, the way I want Kat to be happy.”
“I do. And I’ll make her happy.”
He pats my hand. “Thank you. That’s all I wanted.” He blinks, and a change seems to come over him. “It’s nap time.” His tone is abruptly childish. “You should go. I don’t like it when people look at me when I’m trying to sleep.”
“Okay. Have a nice nap.”
I stand to leave, but pause at the door. He’s gazing out the window, at the garden with sunflowers, talking to himself about what he should get for his wife for their anniversary, lost in the past.
