“Mom, will you be okay if I step outside?”
She scoffs, offended I even asked, and waves me off. I step onto the sidewalk, with a clear view of her in our booth. She sips her soup in peace, like there’s nothing to be worried about at all.
“Steven, what’s up?” Liam answers on the first ring, breathless. I hear a beep then the sliding of a treadmill slowing down. “Everything okay?”
“Namenda,” I blurt. “Why isn’t my mom on Namenda?”
“Umm, not sure.” He pants. “Maybe she is? Or maybe they tried and shedidn’t tolerate it well?”
“I’ve seen her meds. There’s nothing neuro. Just antihypertensives, vitamins, a statin.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to picture the pill bottles I’ve seen sitting on the kitchen counter.
“Have you asked your dad?” The background goes quiet; he probably stepped outside. “Wait, where is all of this coming from? Did you Google?” He’s speculating, which is fair—physicians hate Google.
“No. It just…came to me.”
“Seriously?” he asks, equal parts disbelieving and excited.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Dude, that’s incredible!” His excitement buzzes. “This is huge! Have you told Emma? If medical stuff is coming back, the rest is probably right behind it.”
“I don’t know.” I rub my brow and glance back at Mom. She’s still enjoying her soup. “Maybe this is a random fluke? Maybe I saw a commercial?”
“Shut up and take the win, man,” he shoots back.
“Sorry, sorry.” I huff, leaning against the restaurant’s brick wall. Teddy brings Mom another iced tea. She smiles at him but doesn’t say anything, her eyes darting around like she’s on another planet.
“Look, I gotta go.” I sigh, heading back inside. “Can you check the med for me? And I’ll talk to my dad.”
“Sure,” he says. “And Steven, be proud of yourself. This is progress. Stay focused, and it’ll all come back, I promise.”
“Isn’t it against the rules to promise things to your clients?”
“Yes. But I’m allowed to promise things to my friend.” Liam chuckles then graciously tells me to shut up before ending the call.
“Oh, Steven, I just had the best soup,” Mom says once I’m back to the table. Teddy is scooping up our dishes as he sets the ticket down. I reach for it, but Mom snatches it first.
“Mom…” I groan.
She wiggles a finger at me, commanding silence, and forces her wallet into Teddy’s hands. He looks to me, conflicted, but I give him a quick nod. He scurries away to the register, and Mom turns back to me with a sly smile.
“Now where to?” she asks.
I check my watch; it’s nearly one. Dad told me she needs a nap every afternoon to avoid an evening meltdown. The thought makes me laugh. Serious for Mom, yes, but all I can picture is Josie when she’s overtired and inconsolable, or Sawyer skipping naps years ago. He was a grumpy one.
The memory is faint, coming in pieces that I have to unscramble. I hold onto it tightly as we drive home in silence. Mom drifts off to sleep beside me. She looks so fragile. Feels that way too when I carry her to the couch, being careful not to wake her.
Jay helps settle her in, draping a blanket over her, then not so gently shoves me into the recliner beside her.
“Your turn, buddy,” she whispers aggressively.
“I need to—”
She shuts me down with a raised hand. No room for protest. I need to write things down. The memory of medication, the naps, the blurry image of Sawyer as a toddler that seems to be slowly coming into focus like a developing photo. But there’s no time.
Jay pulls the lever on the recliner, sending me backward before I can argue. My body gives in quick, my eyes closing on their own. The need to rest is stronger than any resistance I can muster. Sleep rolls over me as an unending loop takes all the space in my mind. A picture of steaming soup with someone I love.
Chapter thirty-eight
