On the way home, we stopped to pick up the prescription at the grocery store pharmacy. We waited in a short line until it was our turn, and the clerk punched Ayla’s name and date of birth into the computer.
The clerk stared at the screen. “It says here that the pharmacist would like to speak with you.”
“Why?” I asked. “Is there a problem? Did the doctor’s office not call in the prescription?”
“No, that’s not it. We have the order.”
“Miss Abadi?” Overhearing the conversation, the pharmacist, who was in the dispensing area on a raised platform behind the counter, gestured for us to meet her over at the consultation window.
“Who is this for?” she asked, looking between me and Ayla.
“It’s for me,” Ayla said. “This is my mom.”
“We do have your prescription, which is for the generic form of this medication. But I won’t have generic until the day after tomorrow.” She handed a bottle over to Ayla. “So I’m giving you a few tablets of the brand name until then.”
“And it’s the exact same thing?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes, it contains the same active ingredient.”
“Can I see?” I asked, and Ayla promptly handed the medicine over. I examined the three light-blue oval-shaped pills inside and read the label. “This says these are Xanax?”
“Really?” Ayla said. We exchanged a surprised glance. We were both thinking of Ali.
“Yes,” the pharmacist said. “Your doctor prescribed alprazolam, which is the active ingredient in Xanax. It’s the same thing. It’s just that one is generic and the other is name brand. I’ll have the generic by the day after tomorrow.”
Despite an uneasy feeling, we thanked her and walked out to the van.
“It’s weird to be taking Xanax after what happened to Dad,” Ayla said. “Do you think he took antianxiety meds without telling you?”
“I really don’t know.” I supposed it was possible now that I knew how stressed and guilt ridden Ali must have been. But something still felt off. It was like having a word on the tip of my tongue, just beyond my grasp.
“My friend Rachel from college is coming over when we get home,” Ayla said once we were back in the van heading home. “She came down because she had a scheduled dental appointment. We’ll probably order in dinner.”
“Are you sure you feel up to it?”
“Yes, it’ll be a nice distraction.”
“OK. I’ll try to stay out of your way.”
She groaned. “Go out, Mom. I’m OK. Or at least on my way to being OK. You’ve been home with me twenty-four seven. Get out of the house.”
“Fine.” I mock pouted. “I know when I’m not wanted.”
She smiled at me. “Helicopter Mom needs to take some time off from hovering or else she’ll run out of gas.”
“If you insist.” Seeing that Ayla needed a little space and would be occupied for the next couple of hours, I made a decision. “I’ll let you off at home, and then I’ll go out for a little while.”
“Hey, stranger.” Claudia was out by her mailbox when we got home. I’d dropped Ayla and was pulling out of the driveway. “We’re due for another walk.”
I rolled down the window. “Ayla’s home for a few days, so I’ve been busy with her.”
“Isn’t it the middle of the semester? Or is she here to see your brother?”
“My brother? I don’t have a brother.”
“You don’t? I could have sworn the man I met in your backyard told me that he was your brother.”
I stilled. “You saw a man walking around my backyard? When?”
