“I came into the kitchen the other night and found a pot of water boiling on the stove. We’d already had dinner, and when I found your dad in the bedroom, he had no idea what I was asking about. But there was an unopened box of macaroni and cheese on the dresser.”
He rocked back in the chair, taking in what she was saying.
“Nothing was damaged, but it could’ve been…”
“It could’ve been bad.” Aiden grimly finished her thought.
“It’s been getting worse for months,” she said, voice tired. Suddenly she looked less like the robust mother he’d always known and more like a scared sixty-six-year-old, pale and drawn and worried about her forgetful husband.
Dammit. He’d thrown himself into keeping the business flowing smoothly, but he’d been so focused on the work end of things that the true severity of his father’s condition had escaped him. Worse, his mother had been left to deal that aspect on her own. What a shitty son.
“What do we need to do now?” he asked.
“Actually, I took him to the doctor yesterday.”
His eyes widened. “Dad agreed to a doctor visit?”
“Believe me, it was a fight.”
They exchanged sad smiles. Of course it was. Rudy had nearly severed his thumb in a band saw accident a few years ago, and Aiden had to physically force him into the car to get him to the ER.
“Maybe it’s not as bad as we think,” he said, desperation coloring his tone.
For a moment it looked like she was going to offer him the kind of warm reassurances she’d given him his whole life. Instead, she knuckled away a tear. “It’s dementia. And it’s progressed beyond what any of us really knew. He was so good at hiding the signs, but…”
Sorrow gripped him, followed closely by fear. Fear for his dad. His mom. The business. His whole life, Rudy was the brash, cantankerous center of everything, and Aiden didn’t know what their family looked like without him.
“So what now?” he asked raggedly.
His mom nodded and swung into office-manager mode, all practical efficiency. “Now we get him into a clinical trial. There’s a great one in Chicago that looks promising.”
He frowned. “Except it’s in Chicago.”
“Which is three hours away. Notthatfar,” she said. “If he’s accepted, I’ll go with him. Find a little apartment. I have to stay with him.”
“Of course.” Forty-two years of marriage and never more than one night apart. It was a point of pride for them, so of course she’d go with her husband on this next step.
Her face crumpled, and Aiden wondered if she was thinking the same thing. He shifted closer to pull her into a hug, and she turned her face to his chest with a sob. But she pulled herself together almost immediately, turning to root through her purse for a tissue while he leaned back in his chair.
“Okay.” He exhaled hard. “Okay. You go with him to Chicago, and Trip and I will handle things here until you sort it out. Maybe he’ll be back in a month better than new, right?”
Her mouth formed something approximating a smile if you didn’t know what her usual expression looked like. “Of course, sweetie. We’ll get through it as a family.” She patted his cheek. “My handsome boy. We’ll need you to step up and run the business. And keep an eye on your brother even if it’s hard. I hate to see you two fight. You used to be friends.”
“Yeah, we did.” The memory of their last family lunch resurfaced, and he shifted in his chair, hating to bring this subject up with his mother. “Then again, I may not be the best choice to run the business right now.”
That engaged her inner mama bear, and she leaned forward, eyes fierce. “That person those people think you are? That’s not you. You just need to show them that you’re as steady and reliable as your dad. Even steadier. I’ve never once heard you raise your voice with our employees.” She placed her hand over his. “You’ll figure it out. But right now I need to get back home and keep making phone calls about our Chicago move.”
After one more pat of his hand, she stood and left his office, and he squeezed his eyes shut and dug his thumbs into either side of the bridge of his nose. Once he’d composed himself, he walked back to his desk chair and on autopilot reviewed the notes he’d made for the Sappersteins. He had a schedule to stick to. If the company rested on his shoulders now, he wouldn’t let it fall.
He greeted Fred and Elena Sapperstein in the lobby later that afternoon and took them through the lobby to the consultation room in the back.
“How’s that new addition treating you folks?” he asked as they took their seats. Murdoch Construction had built an all-season room for them last year, and since they were back to discuss a master bathroom reno, it was a relatively safe assumption that they were pleased. But it never hurt to ask.
“Oh, it’s perfect. A lovely reading spot.” The silver-haired woman waved her hand dismissively and leaned forward. “Now tell me about that beautiful girl we saw you kissing at the hockey game on Saturday.”
His pleasant salesman’s mask froze on his face. “You saw that?”
Her cheeks plumped into a smile. “We never miss a game. Isn’t that right, Frank?” Frank bobbed his head and gazed adoringly at his wife, who barreled on. “You two were the cutest couple of the night. How long have you been seeing her?”
