CHAPTER 9

Stef had somehow managed to pull herself together. Her headache had dissipated a few hours earlier. The two newly acquired bumps on her head had stopped swelling and were beginning to turn black and blue. She'd cleaned her new soon to be scar wound, and had also managed to eat a little, which made her tummy feel better, not by much, but she’d take what she could get at this point.

She had spent almost two hours glued to her desk in hopes of completing a few chapters in her new book. She had been struggling relentlessly with the new character she was introducing because her head was still reeling from the doctors words, but still, she managed to create something intelligent, and interesting, or at least she hoped it would be when she came back to look at it later.  She closed her laptop and sat for a minute staring out the window of her office.

The weather had finally changed and spring was truly in the air. The little sparrows were busy flitting this way and that in the tree just outside her window. She'd always been fascinated by their ability to stay on task as they went about gathering nesting material. They went back and forth, zipped here and there, and yet never seemed to tire. She wasn’t sure if it was the male or female that did most of the work, but they made it seem like it was a joint affair. The reality was it was most likely the mama bird because she was not about to sit on some crazy assed nest hubby haphazardly strung together. This she had learned from experience. If you wanted something done right the first time seize the moment and do it yourself.

She scribbled a note to herself to Google sparrows later so she could answer her own question. She’d never given it much thought before but now, these odd little details, seemed to hold a new found importance. She had this overwhelming desire to fill her mind with details; things that, in the big scheme of things, didn’t really mean anything before, but now seemed uber-important. She watched their hijinks for a few more minutes then got up from her desk, turned off the light, and then headed for her bedroom to get changed.

When she arrived at the restaurant, she valet parked her car so there would be no question as to where she parked. Last thing she wanted was to be caught wandering around in the dark looking for her damned car. She wanted no signs that her brain was already heading south.  She'd already experienced the car losing thing as a normal person, but now, she did not want to be the one walking around aimlessly hitting the alarm button so she could play the getting warmer game.

She smiled as the Adonis looking valet guy handed her the ticket. She almost laughed out loud at the thought that Ginger would likely have already hit on this guy before she made her way into the restaurant. Ginger had a way of creating a trail of men wherever she went. It was almost as though she were a collector, a trophy winner when it came to bed partners or dates. From what Stef understood, there were many one-night-stands, many notches on the belt, many heartbroken ‘boys’ who’d taken to Ginger’s bed in hopes of becoming a part of her life. After all, she looked particularly independent. She was drop dead gorgeous. And, she had an air of success surrounding her that lit up like a neon sign that said ‘look at me, I’m loaded, I don’t need you, but I’m willing to have a roll in the hay’ kind of aura. She was like a Venus flytrap who picked her victims randomly and often. She’d seduce them first with her looks and quick wit, then she’d wrap her long sinewy arms around them, chew them up, then discard them like yesterdays news a day or two later when she grew tired of them. She had never been the type of girl who was willing to settle for mediocre. She was always in search of Mr. Big. She wanted someone who could hold his own, someone who could add to her already bounding lifestyle and financial success. There would be no pretty boy-boy-toy for her unless he had the complete package, although, every man Cassie had ever seen her with looked like he had been picked from the pages of GQ magazine. To her, they all seemed to have the package with the exception of the ‘oh-too-young-ones’ she’d caught a glimpse of. Ginger was an official cougar. She’d never made it a secret that that was who she was. Until she found her perfect match, she was more than willing to keep trying on men as easily as she did a new pair of shoes.

Beth on the other hand was the 'married with two children' part of the pack. She was the conservative of the group and often found herself having to recover from the severe blush that would transform her pale ivory skin into a flaming red reaction over something Ginger would spout out. Still, she was funny as hell, and always enjoyed getting away from her normal, boring daily routine of carpooling, homework, laundry, and food preparation. She was their Martha Stewart. It was almost like she’d become their ground wire when their wildly electric personalities filled the room. She completed their small chick circle. She was the radiant blonde of the group. The three of them always managed to make quite an entrance no matter where they went. Ginger’s bright red hair flashed like a warning that something big was about to happen. When she moved through a room if was almost as if Joseph arose from the dead to part the sea. People would pause mid-chew or mid-drink and slide their chairs back to create a clear walkway as she swept past them. Stef’s long dark tresses made her the sultry mystery woman whose bright blue eyes could melt even the staunchiest hearted, and Beth’s well-tamed mane always beamed like sunshine on a cloudy day. They were quite the trio!

Both girls were already seated at the table when Stef walked in. They both looked fabulous as always and were already deeply engrossed in conversation. Stef looked down at her outfit, and as usual, with a slight frown burrowing between her eyes, felt underdressed. She'd always been the understated of the three but tonight it didn’t seem that important. She manuvered around the tables as carefully as she could then plopped down on the chair between them.

“Ladies,” she said as she spied the yet untouched bloody Mary that had been placed by her seat. Ginger was always a stickler for details and had pre-ordered Stef’s hangover cure cocktail. “Always on your game girl, always on your game.”

“Would you expect anything else from a girl who’s always on her toes? The girl that’s always got your back, the girl…”

“Oh for Christ’s sake shut up,” Stef interjected.

The three of them lifted their drinks and with a clink of glass saluted each other.

“So I hear you had a party of one last night. Was that a celebratory or pity party?” Beth queried.

Stef shrugged her shoulders. “A little of both maybe.”

“You know you can call me too if you’re…” Beth offered.

“I know Beth. You’ve been my designated driver before. I hit speed dial last night and Ginger won that’s all. It’s not personal. Technology chose for me.”

“So what’s up with you anyway?” Ginger asked. “This mid-week binge drinking is not your usual style.”

“I know. Guess I was suffering from a severe bout of writers block goes pity party.” Stef said still not willing to share her news. Maybe she never would. Maybe if she didn’t acknowledge it out loud to anyone then it wouldn’t happen. Maybe if she blocked it out of her conscious mind she could get on with what she had to do. Maybe she needed to do something to distract herself for a while. This she would give some thought to. Maybe a road trip was in order. Maybe a solo trip, or even better, maybe she and Ginger could get their Thelma and Louise act together and take it on the road. They had done that once before and had wreaked havoc every where they went. Now was not the time to suggest it because Beth could never ever get away for this kind of trip. She'd file it in her brain for later, but then she felt a flash of heat pulse over her skin. What if she didn't remember later? What if she completely forgot about it and missed the trip of a lifetime? She grabbed her purse, open it then dug for a pen. She grabbed the paper napkin and scribbled a note to herself. There. Now it was indelible. Proof that she'd had the thought.

"What? Now you've broken through your writers block, here, at lunch?" Ginger snapped.

"No. I just had an idea I didn't want to forget that's all!" Stef jammed the pen and napkin back into her bag then turned her attention to Beth. “Don’t you have like four-hundred birthdays coming up?”

It seemed that her friend had a habit of always getting pregnant at the same time of year. Must be something about fall that got her all feisty so she'd have spring babies.

"I do actually," Beth said as she picked up her phone and started scrolling through her calendar. "Let's see. Troy's is next week. That will be at the laser tag place. Matty's is in two weeks. That one's at the go cart place. Joel's is in four weeks. I don't know what I'm doing for him because he wants something bookish with all his nerdy friends, and Joey's is in six weeks. Oh and by the way, Joey wants you both to come to hers for sure. She's having it at the American Girl store. She's got you two pegged as heavy spenders so you better come armed and dangerous with your wallets or you know you'll never hear the end of it."

"Isn't she too old for all the doll crap?" Ginger asked rolling her eyes up into her head.

"Um. No. She's only five," she said looking at Ginger in disbelief. "I think the doll stage lasts at least until the first period, or so I seem to remember."

"You'd be smarter to give her a calculator, a bank book, and a subscription to the Wall Street Journal. Then she'd be better prepared for life." Ginger stated matter-of-factly. "That's all I remember getting and look at me now."

"We'll both be there and we'll be happy to be there," she said kicking Ginger under the table. "Hey this is supposed to be a bitch fest, not a 'bitch' fest!"

"Ouch!" Ginger said in protest. "Did you just kick me?"

"Oh, was that you? I thought it was the table leg. So sorry!" Stef said as she took a sip of her drink.

She looked across the table and saw Beth smiling at her.

"It's too bad one of you wasn't a man. You'd be perfect for one another." Beth said.

At that, Stef actually snorted bloody mary out her nose as she laughed.

Ginger looked at her. "That's disgusting. If we were together, which we would never be because you don't have a penis, I'd surely suffocate you in the middle of the night for doing something like that in public with me."

Stef picked up her napkin trying to wipe away the evidence of her bloody mary nose. "Oh...you know you love me, warts and all." Stef picked up her drink again. "To girlfriends, ya gotta love 'em!"

"Should I get out of the direct line of fire or are you done with your hijinks?"

"Oh I'm done alrighty. I'm done." Stef said.

The waiter, as if on cue, showed up at the table, arms ladden with dishes. He set their food down and the three of them ate and chatted for the next hour.

Chapter Eight

Even before her eyes opened she could feel the god awful throbbing in her head. It was like someone in a far off native land was beating out the signal on a drum, that they'd indeed, without a doubt, clearly been the victor in the body versus booze dance that took place the previous night. Actually, as she lay there in the silence, she concluded that not only was her head pounding, so was the soft little spot just behind her left ear, and strangely enough, so was her left knee.

She cracked one eye open just enough to establish that it was no longer night time. The sun was crashing through the open curtains like a devilish intruder intent on making her as uncomfortable as possible. It always pissed her off when she forgot to close the curtains at night, and she could feel that pissyness rise in her throat like hot bile. When she tilted her head in a lame attempt to see the clock on the night stand, she felt that bloody sun beam attack her singular open eye like a laser.

"Shit!" she yelp out like a wounded dog.

She flopped back down on the bed and immediately closed the pierced eye in hopes the damage would only be temporary. She lay there like a corpse, listening to her own breath, her own heartbeat. She'd once written about a corpse and now she felt like one only worse, because she knew she wasn't dead. Or at least she assumed she wasn't due to the fact that she could still feel the pain coursing through nearly every part of her body. Her head was definitely not in a good place, and now, neither was her eyeball.

"Oh my God! What have I done to myself?" she said out loud, her pithy little voice filling the empty space surrounding her. This is when it pays off to have someone with you, like a husband, or a boyfriend she thought to herself. Someone who could fill you in with all the lurid details of your compulsive debauchery.

The phone beside the bed began to prattle, over and over, like one of those bloody church bells summoning it's patrons to service on a Sunday morning. It seemed unusually loud in her delicate state so she raised her hands up and clasped them against her ears. When that didn't work, she grabbed the extra pillow lying next to her and pulled it over her face, hoping at best, it would dull the ringing until her machine picked up.

"Afternoon sunshine. Just a welfare check. You were pretty lit last night, and that whole chair to floor trick, well, that was the icing on the cake. Pretty spectacular if you ask me. You got everybody's attention, that's for sure. As a matter of fact, that old guy you were chatting up was pretty impressed. Either that or he was still under the influence of his earlier Viagra intake. And hey, before you go off on me, he said it, not me!"

Stef pushed the pillow off her face, groaned, then reached for the phone. She had to turn one more inch to make the reach, which, as it turned out was just one inch too far. She clasped the receiver in her hand at the same time she tumbled off the bed and onto the hard floor below.

"Jesus Christ," she said as she lay there even further stunned. Worse yet, now her right ear hurt from meeting with the side of the bed. She could still here Ginger rattling on about something. Somehow she managed to find the button on the receiver and pushed it with great effort.

"What? And why are you calling so early? And why are you yelling? And what bloody chair trick did I manage to pull off? And what about Viagra?"

"Well hello darling, good afternoon to you to."

"What do you mean afternoon?"

She forced herself to sit up so she could see the clock. Now she was too far from the clock and searched for her glasses on the nightstand. She put them on and even then she still had to squint to see the bloody thing.

"Oh My God," she said when she realized it was nearly two o'clock in the afternoon.

"I figured you'd still be sleeping. That's why I waited till now to call. Aren't you just the lady of leisure these days?"

"You know what..." she couldn't even find the words to finish her thought.

"Hey, don't blame me, you worked pretty hard for this yesterday, I was just there as the designated driver, remember!"

"Oh shut up Miss Goody Two Shoes," she said. Actually, she couldn't remember anything. Other than driving to the bar, the rest of the night was a big mystery, a big blur, and probably a big mistake. "I'm alive and kicking, okay? Well, maybe not kicking quite yet, but I will be right after my date with the coffee maker and some asprin. I'll call you back in a bit for all the horrid details okay?"

"Okay sleeping beauty," Ginger said. "Make sure you have several cups before you call me okay?" Ginger said. "Oh, and you might want to put some Neosporin on that gash you got."

"Right!" Stef said.

She hung up the phone then leaned back against the bed.

The first order of business was to forage through the night stand drawer to find the asprin bottle. She popped two pills into her mouth and took them dry. Throwing her head back to make them go down wasn't exactly a smart move. The throbbing in her head was excruciating now. She decided to sit there until it subsided. She looked down at her leg and that's when she noticed the gash on her knee. She hiked her nightie up to explore the damage. Upon closer inspection, she knew this one would fill in the gap between the other two scars she'd acquired during her more vigorous youth. The whole area of her knee cap looked swollen, and she was sure there'd be a nasty bruise there by the end of the day.

Feeling slightly more stablized, she turned so she could use the bed for leverage. The remanants of the previous nights alcohol were obviously still coursing through her veins because she felt pretty damned shakey.

Once in the kitchen she set about making herself some very strong espresso. She could feel the rumblings in her stomach, a reminder that she'd not eaten since early yesterday, so she took the bread out of the cupboard. Toast and coffee should do the trick, bring her back to life. As she moved towards the fridge she noticed something scribbled on her calendar, something that was not in her own handwriting.

7:45-meet Ginger and Beth for dinner if you can manage it.

Well, at least that cleared up one little detail about last night. Ginger had taken her designated driver status seriously, and had indeed brought her home, and left her this little note as proof.

She looked down at the nightie, then back at the note. She realized that her dear friend had not only driven her home, she'd also undressed her, put her pajamas on, then put her to bed just as any good mother would do if they'd kept their two-year-old out to late. She knew Ginger was going to demand payback at sometime. She also knew that Ginger would not let her live this down for quite some time.

As she waited for the coffee to finish brewing, she went to the front door to get the paper. She swung the front door open and was shocked when she saw the mailman standing there, his arm mid way to her mailbox. Apparently he was as startled by her as she was by him because he almost dropped the mail. She knew she looked like crap and ran her fingers over her hair in an attempt to look a little more presentable.

"Afternoon," she said casually.

"Afternoon," he said still clenching the mail in his hands. "Ah, do you want me to put this in the box, or...do you just want to take it?"

She swung the screen door open.

"I'll take it," she said.

"Hope you feel better later," he said as he took the stairs two at a time back towards the street.

What the hell did that mean, hope you feel better? She stooped over to get the paper and when she stood back up she caught a glimpse of herself in the gazing ball right next to the door.

You poor bastard, she thought to herself. She went back inside, poured herself a cup of coffee, then hit the shower.

An hour later, she finally had the mental capacity to call Ginger back.

"So, tell me everything," she said to her pal.

"There's so much. I just don't know where to start."

"Just tell me whether or not the police are going to show up at my front door," she said, not really wanting to know every lurid detail.

"Simple answer...no!" Ginger said chuckling on the other end of the phone. "On the other hand I think you may have a date later this week providing your pal from last night can get a refill on his Viagra prescription."

"Oh, very funny. Funny, funny, funny, beatch," Stef said with as much sarcasm as she could muster.

"What's up with you anyway?" Ginger prompted.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you don't normally go out on a bender unless something horrible is going on. So what's up?"

Stef felt a wave of relief wash over her because her secret was still her secret. Apparently, the alcohol had inhibited her memory of what had transpired yesterday at the doctor's. She had somehow blocked her bad news out. She had literally just gone out and had a good time with her friend.

"Nothing's up, I was just having one of 'those' days," she responded.

"I see." Ginger knew there was more to it than that but decided not to press the issue. "So, are we going to see you tonight?"

"Yeah, I think you are. Only this time I'll manage to keep myself in control." Stef said. "But just in case, pick me up."

"Okay, I'll see you later."

Chapter Seven...

Stef left the doctor’s office with a heavy heart. She knew what lay ahead of her. She’d seen it first hand and it was not pretty. As a matter of fact, she was having a hard time holding down her breakfast. With this disease, there was no race to the finish, it was long and ugly, and everyone she ever loved would feel some of the repercussions. She did not, would not accept it. The depth of what was to come shook her to the very core. It threatened everything she had planned for her future. It blew the crap out of her timeline. There were trips and journeys, that in her mind would come in increments ten, maybe twenty years from now, but this changed everything.

She was now afloat in an ocean on a raft with no paddle, no rescue boat, and worse than that, no hope of ever seeing and enjoying her ripe old age unless somehow someone found her a cure, a miracle.

Traffic on the freeway was not as bad as she’d anticipated. There’s nothing worse than being pissed off and stuck in a Los Angeles traffic jam! Well thank God for that, she thought. It was one stinking little favor in an otherwise crappy day. At this rate it wouldn’t take her long to get to…where was she going anyway? Going home would just allow her to sit and stew, pout, boo hoo about her diagnosis. She wanted to do something she rarely did. She wanted to drink in the middle of the day. She wanted to get slap down drunk, then fall into her bed and sleep.

She called up her friend Ginger. She could usually always depend on her. That was not her real name, it was a nickname given to her because of her beautiful long red locks. Someone jokingly called her that years ago and it stuck. She didn’t seem to mind because she thought it made her sexier, like the ‘Ginger’ on Gilligan’s Island.

“What are you doing?” Stef demanded.

“Who’s asking?” Ginger snapped back in the same tone.

“Seriously, what are you doing? I need a drinking buddy and possibly a designated driver.”

“What’s going on?” Ginger asked this time with concern in her voice.

“What…I can’t drink?” Stef said. “You’re not the boss of me.”

“Well, it is only 1 o’clock in the afternoon!”

“You know what, if you’re not interested just say so. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”

“Where are you? Where are you going?”

“The Hood.”

“On Burbank?”

“That would be the one.”

“I’ll be there in twenty. Oh, and by the way, the Hood is only two blocks from your place. You could just walk home you know.”

"Whatever. I'll see you soon." Stef said.

She hung up the phone and tossed it onto the floor of her car. She wanted to be incommunicado for the rest of the day. She knew her editor was going to be calling but this was one of those drastic times that called for drastic measures. As far as she was concerned the world could simply go fuck itself today. She needed time to digest and ingest. She was not willing to wrap her mind around anything other that the single moment that she was currently in. That would do her just fine.

***

The bar still had quite a few lingerers left over from lunch. With unemployment the way it was these days it wouldn’t surprise Stef if every damn bar in LA was full all day, every day. People needed to drown their sorrows and today she fell smack dab into the center of that category. She needed a temporary band aide for her brain and this seemed like the easiest solution. She didn’t care how busy or loud it was, she welcomed the din. It was noise, public noise, not the noise bouncing around in her head.

She threw her bag onto the bar, pulled up the bar stool, plopped her ass down and ordered a shot of tequila and a slice of lime. No use pussy footing around she thought. She was determined to get the most bang for her buck and do it as quickly as possible.

She scanned the room always on the lookout for interesting characters, someone new she could profile, someone interesting enough to intertwine with one of her future characters in one of her future books, that is, if she was ever going to be able to write a future book.

She had come to this bar often in the past when writer’s block put a lock on her brain. It was one of those local hangs where most who patronized it were from the neighborhood. She came there because it was close to home and, because it was a British Pub, they always had the best happy hours, best dart games, and the cast of characters that showed up were nearly always memorable. She could, under the worst of circumstances, walk home if she had to then come back for her car in the morning. She had always thought every neighborhood should have a local bar for that very reason.

When she looked over in the darkest corner she saw the old woman who seemed to be there every single time she’d been there. Old people liked routine she guessed because this silver haired granny always sat at the same table, the one with the big picture of Princess Diana over it, and she could have some anonymity because it was in the shadows. There were always two martini glasses on the table, one empty, one nearly empty. Stef pegged her to be somewhere around seventy-five to eighty years old. There was something about her however that bespoke that she was ready to rumble at any time. Her silver wig suggested that either her hair had thinned to the point of invisibility or she had had chemo recently. Her frilly blouse’s always seemed a little dirty or maybe it was just that they was so old they’d lost their luster. Yet, there was an aura of elegance about her that made you think about who she’d been at an earlier time in her life. The lines that creased the corner of her eyes belied that she had been a worrier, or maybe, even better, she’d been so happy with her life she had smiles these telling signs into her skin. She would file these details away in her memory bank. Oh, wait she thought to herself. I won’t have a memory bank soon. With that thought rolling around in her mind she instead pulled out a little notebook she always had in her purse and jotted down these details just to be on the safe side.

She was now two shots in and feeling a little more relaxed than when she’d arrived. She could see Ginger enter through the back door, and as usual, all eyes turned to scan the buxom red head as she headed towards the empty stool next to Stef. Ginger had always been one of those characters that always seemed to fill the room. She could literally suck the air out of your lungs when she passed by you. People had a tendency to move out of her way as she strode through the crowd, and Stef laughed out loud when she finally plopped down next to her.

“Do you ever get used to that?”

“What are you talking about?” Ginger said flippantly.

“Oh, bullshit! You know exactly what I mean,” Stef said motioning to the bartender for two more shots.

“Girl, you’re already shit faced aren’t you?” Ginger said.

“Not quite, but I’m well on my way,” Stef said picking up both shot glasses. She handed one to Ginger. “Over the lips, under the…”

“Gums…” Ginger added when she saw that Stef had forgotten the old adage.

“Right. Cheers!”

Both girls sucked back the tequila, bit the lime, and then motioned for another.

“So what’s up with you today? Why the command performance?” Ginger asked.

Stef looked at her friend and smiled, and then ever so slowly her eyes filled with tears.

“Steffanie, what is it?” Ginger said pulling her stool a little closer. She laid her hand on Stef knee and then waited but it seemed her friend could not find the words she wanted to speak. This never happened and that worried Ginger even more. Trying to lighten the mood, Ginger smiled at her friend.

“Wow, there’s a first time for everything. You at a loss for words? Holy crap!” Ginger said.

Chapter Six...

At the end, her mother had a couple of hours where she remembered who they were. It was a miracle in Stef’s mind to see her come back to life like that. It was a gift from God she had thought, even though she was still mad at him for taking her mind away in what should have the most glorious years of her life.

She held each of the girls tightly in her arms as though none of what she’d gone through had ever happened. She asked them why they were both there, in the middle of the day, and the girls explained it away by telling her that it was Sunday and they were preparing the family meal, just as they had for the last decade. Emily explained that they were making all her favorite dishes this time.

“Oh how lovely,” her mother had said smiling at them. “Don’t overcook the liver, I hate that, and make sure the oven potatoes don’t get too crispy. I have old teeth you know, not like they used to be.”

“We put the oven on low Mom, they should be just perfect for you,” Emily assured her and then turned away as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Her mother had instilled in them from a very early age that sitting down together as a family was of utmost importance because she needed them all together. She needed to touch base with each of them to see how their life was going, what they were doing, whom they were doing, and why they were doing it. Evie had sliced the cord begrudgingly when each of her daughters had moved out, but she had never ever cut it completely. They were as tied together now as they’d always been.

Evie finally asked where Eddy was and neither daughter had the guts to tell her again that he was gone forever, that he had died of a broken heart a year and a half earlier. They were pretty sure she knew but her mind played these tricks on her. Perhaps it was best this way anyway. So, instead they fabricated a story that he’d just run out to her favorite dress store to buy her something pretty, something she could wear when guests came to call. He had done that often during their long marriage because Evie never asked for things. She was frugal and cautious with their money, but she so loved these surprises.

This seemed to satisfy her curiosity because she lay back on the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. They could see she was gone again, lost in a world beyond their comprehension. Something was different though, something had changed in a matter of seconds. They watched as her mouth softened into a smile. She looked satisfied. A moment later, with her daughters at her side holding her hands, she whispered Eddie’s name, and then her eyes went vacant, gray, and dull.

Chapter Five...

Their parent’s had been a match made in heaven. They screamed and ranted at each other every day, but by nightfall all would be forgotten. Evie and Eddie would have a candle lit dinner together every night at the small kitchen table. This was something they started doing after the girls moved out because they were all that was left and her mother wanted to make sure that they spent time, quality time, together. They would ramble on about what they’d seen on the news, what deals were to be had at the grocery store. It didn’t matter what they talked about so long as they talked. It kept them close.

Later, they would take a walk around the neighborhood, holding hands like young lovers, as though no rash words had ever come between them. If it were windy, Eddie would stop and brush the hair from Evie’s cheek then land a kiss on the now barren spot. Her mother would always beam when he did that. She would always joke with her friends that that husband of hers wouldn’t keep his hands to himself. He was always trying to cop a feel when she least expected it. And although she would protest loudly when he did that, she actually prided herself on knowing that she could still turn his head.

Cassie had always thought their argumentative side was odd, that she would never ever be with someone who had the balls to yell at her and then expect her to perform in bed later as though nothing had happened, but this daily banter seemed to be the ticket for them. That never changed with them, not until the very end when her mother would not even recognize the man she had spent sixty-two years with.

When her father could no longer reach her, reach the girl that had completely stolen his heart all those years ago, he seemed to give up. He pulled back. He was now as lost as her because there was nothing he could do to help, to salvage her, to make her remember who she was, who he was. It was devastating.

Cassie remembered sitting in their living room watching her father as he tried to concentrate on whatever was on television or whatever book was lying in his lap. Whenever she visited, which was quite often after her mom went sour, she would try to engage him in conversation, try to get him reactivated, but he rarely spoke these days. Instead he would just stare off into space, stare at the ground, lost in his own way like a little boy whose mom had gone away never to return. His sadness he wore on his sleeve for all to see. As strong as she’d thought her father was, she could see this was killing him. That he too was giving up because he could not exist in a world without his beloved Evie.

Eventually he’d just close the book, turn off the television, and tell Cassie that he was pretty tired. Then, without another word, he’d get up and trudge slowly up the stairs to their bedroom.

She remembered one time when this happened not so long ago. She had gone out to her car and looked up at her parent’s bedroom window. Even though the curtains were drawn, she could see the shadow of her father pacing back and forth. She could see him run his hands through what was left of his silvery hair. He would turn his back to the window and she knew he was just staring at what was left of the love of his life.

She had been frozen in time there that night. She could not look away. She could not imagine the pain her father was feeling as he tried to will his wife, her mom back to normal.

She had a vague recollection of the things she’d ranted and raved about with God that night. She hated the cruel punishments he would hand down to those who she didn’t think deserved it, especially to her mother. She’d been the kindest, most generous person Stef had ever known.

When she and her sister were growing up, their mom was always the one that would be in the kitchen baking up a storm all the while surrounded by a group of Stef’s girlfriends. They were loud and rambunctious but she never reprimanded them. She reveled in their company because it made her feel young.

There would be flour flying everywhere, and chocolate chips strewn about the countertop as the cookie fiesta got underway, but her mother would just join in their joyous laughter as the mess grew. Her father, not so much. He would walk in, give everyone that look, and then he’d leave just as quickly as he entered.

After all was said and done during those slumber party baking days, the kitchen would be in shambles. At that point her mother would abandon the room leaving the chore of cleaning up to all the girls as they giggled and ate the fruits of their labor.

She was always the first one to encourage sleep over’s or camp outs in the back yard. On several occasions they would build a little campfire in the middle of the yard so they could roast marsh mellows and share scary stories. The next-door neighbor, who just happened to be the town’s fire chief, often objected to these random bursts of flames and never missed an opportunity to complain and bitch about the smoke coming in his windows. He’d never take any more action than complaining because he’d always had a secret crush on Evie.

Her mother would occasionally pitch pup tents when the weather was right in case the sisters or their friends felt adventurous enough to sleep outside, and on occasion they did just that. They would roast hot dogs, then finish the night gorging on Smores and soda.

Every once in a while, one of the friend’s parents would have to be called in the middle of the night because their daughter had gotten sick from all the frivolity. It would always be later than anyone would appreciate being called, and they would always complain, but it never stopped them from allowing their daughter’s from returning for the next adventure. They all loved being at Stef and Emily’s house because it was always fun.

Chapter Four...

Stef could recall so vividly the phone call that came from her mother early one morning the following week.

“Hello…hello…who is this?” she said sounding confused, sounding like she wondered why she was on the phone, wondering why she was talking to some stranger.

“Mom, it’s Steffanie, your daughter, is everything okay?”

“There’s something wrong with that man that stays here, he won’t get out of the bed. I need to make the bed. Would you be so kind as to come here and make him move? I have things to do you know.”

“I’ll come right now mom. Go make yourself some tea and wait for me in the kitchen okay?” Stef said as she jumped out of bed.

She was in the car five minutes later racing across town towards her folk’s house. She had called Emily to forewarn her that something was up and asked her to meet her at the house.

When Stef entered the house she went directly to the kitchen. Her mom was sitting at the table sipping tea as she was directed to. She didn’t even realize there was anyone in the room with her until Stef laid her hand on her moms shoulder. Evie nearly dropped her teacup because she had been so lost in thought.

“Mom, you okay?”

“Whatever do you mean?” her mother replied.

“I’m going to go upstairs for a minute okay? Emily’s coming over, maybe we can all have tea together.”

Stef wanted to take the stairs two at a time but her stomach was tied up in such knots she took them one at a time. She was petrified beyond belief because she wasn’t sure what she was going to find. Her heart was racing and she could barely breath by the time she reached the last stair. She could see that her parent’s bedroom door was ajar. She pushed the door until it was open all the way and just stood there looking towards the bed.

“Dad...Dad?”

She rushed to the side of the bed and reached out for her father’s hand. It was shockingly cold. She shook his shoulders but there was no response.

“Dad, wake up. Please…wake up!” she whispered feeling the first inkling of tears form in her eyes, but she’d known the minute she felt his skin it was already too late. She sat on the bed next to him and stared at his face. He looked very peaceful and she was grateful that he had gone this easy, in his sleep, with no drama, but she was also deeply saddened by the fact that there was no goodbye’s, no time to reminisce, no time to see his eyes sparkle or watch as his smile lit up the room again.

She lay down beside him and gently rested her head on his chest. She lifted his body slightly then wrapped her arms around him knowing this would be the last hug she would ever have with him. The tears began to pour out of her like a river that had suddenly been undammed. She lay like that until she heard the back door slam. Emily would be equally devastated, actually more so, with this sudden loss. She had always been his pet. Emily and Eddie had always had something special, something different. Stef wasn’t sure why that was she just knew that that’s the way it had always been.

She prepared herself for what was about to take place when Emily came into the bedroom. She kissed her fathers cheek then untangled herself from him and stood up. She tried to wipe away her tears but they kept coming like a faucet that had broken a gasket. When Emily stepped into the room, when she saw Stef’s face, she seemed to crumble.

“Oh no Stef, no, no, no,” she whimpered just as she did as a child.

Stef stepped forward and took her baby sister in her arms and the two of them stood there and wept for a long time before going back downstairs to sit with their mother.

When they walked back into the kitchen they saw her face light up like a candle and for a brief moment they held out hope that she, their mother, was the woman in the room with them but that was not to be.

“Oh goodie! Company. Would you like some tea?”

Chapter Three...

For a brief moment Cassie closed her eyes trying to conjure up pictures from her childhood. She could hear the music playing on their old record player. She could see her father and mother caught in an embrace as Frank Sinatra or Mel Torme serenaded them in the dimly lit kitchen.

Her mother had always loved to dance and her father had always obliged this whim. Evie’s eyes would light up like candles when Eddie wrapped her in his arms twirling her about to the beat of their old favorites.

Both she and Emily would sometimes sneak out of their rooms late at night so they could sit quietly at the top stairs to watch them sashay around the crowded little kitchen acting like two teenagers on a date. They had always been in love that much she was sure of. They’d had their moments just like every married couple raising children but somehow, they always managed to get through to the other side, the one where love concurred all. Their love and how they lived their life was how both girls set their future standards as far as boys were concerned. They wanted what they saw in their parent’s relationship. They wanted those kind words they would overhear their parents whisper to each other when they thought they were alone. They wanted that hand to hold when times got tough, but more than anything, they wanted to find that one special person who, no matter what, would always stand by their side.

***

“Who are you? Why are you in my house?” was the first thing out of Evie’s mouth when she scuffled into the kitchen. Eddie looked at Stef and shrugged his shoulders.

“I made you and Dad dinner Mom,” Stef said even though she could feel her heart skip a few beats. She was noticeably shocked by how different her mom looked when her brain went to that dark, elusive place, when her memory was completely blocked by the disease, but she said nothing. She turned around and began to dish the food out all while trying to stifle the sob that was making it’s way up from her belly to her throat.

“Sit down Evie,” Eddie said pulling out a chair for her. “Stef’s made us a nice meal tonight isn’t that nice?”

For just the briefest of moments something came alive in her mother’s eyes. Stef wanted to seize the moment, to say something that her mom would respond to but by the time the first word passed over her lips Evie was gone again. She stared at the plate of food for a few moments, then picked up her fork and began to eat.

Other than her complaining about the beans being overcooked, and a little small talk about the changing weather, the rest of their dinner was eaten in silence.

Eddie took Evie back upstairs when their meal was over and tucked her back into bed. He turned the bedside table on and gently laid the book she was reading onto her lap. Just as he was about to leave the bedroom she called out to him.

“Eddie…tell Steffanie thank you for dinner will you? That was so nice of her to come and cook for us. I wish she would come more often,” she said as a smile formed on her lips. Eddie could tell that she was truly there right then and he turned to smile at her.

“I love you Evie,” he said always grateful for these small glimpses of her as she once was.

“I love you too Eddie,” she said looking at him as though this was their normal everyday chatter.

“Tell her not to forget to pack up the leftovers. You can have them for lunch tomorrow, okay?” she added as she picked up her book.

“I’ll tell her.”

When he came back into the kitchen Stef had nearly finished cleaning up and was putting the leftovers into one of the hundreds of Tupperware bowls her mother had amassed over the years. She smiled at him and said, “you should really get rid of some of these, there’s way too many…”

“No, I won’t get rid of even one of them. You’re mother loves Tupperware,” he said.

Stef moved across the few feet that separated them and put her arms around her father.

“She said to tell you thank you for dinner and that you should come around more often.”

With those words, Stef lost it. She stood there sobbing into her dad’s chest until all her tears had spilled out. As lost as she felt without her mother, she knew it had to be nearly impossible for her father and that made her cry even harder.

Before she left that night she told him that she and Emily were planning on taking him out for his birthday the following week. One of their girlfriends had agreed to come with them so she could stay with their mother while they were out because she rarely left the house anymore with the exception of maybe a doctor’s visit.

“I can’t wait. It will be nice to have the two of you all to myself.”

“I love you Dad.”

“I love you too Princess!”

Chapter Two

The last years that her mother was alive had been so hard on everyone. She’d always been one of those true blue matriarchs who ran the show, that made sure everyone was where he or she were supposed to be doing what they were supposed to be doing. She was the glue that kept the family safe and sound.

Stef had always believed deep down in her heart that that was why her father died earlier than expected. Her mom had always catered to Eddie’s every need, and the fact that he would now have to play the role of caretaker was probably just too much for him to handle. He was only strong when she was strong. She had ruined him in that sense. They were like salt and pepper shaker’s, like a flat and fitted sheet. If you didn’t have both together then nothing made sense.

He had tried so hard to keep himself together, to keep the ship floating, to keep his precious Evie happy but you could see, as each day passed, as each month slid by, that he was wearing out. He looked tired and worried all the time now. He stopped shaving and getting his hair cut, and because he’d always had a full head of hair that had somehow magically silvered overnight, he began to look a little like a vagabond, like the Gorton’s fisherman guy, only worse.

He tried at one point to launder and iron his shirts, but it never came out right. As a matter of fact, he had ruined nearly all their sheets and all his white shirts because he’d forgotten to separate the colors from the whites.

Stef had shown up unexpectedly early one afternoon, her arms loaded with groceries so she could cook them a nice meal and visit with them. When she came in the back door she saw her father standing at the sink gazing out the window.

“Dad,” she said quietly so as not to scare him. “You okay?”

“Hi Stef, I thought I saw your car,” he said still looking out the window.

He turned on the cold faucet and bent down so he could splash some water on his face before turning to say hello.

When he did turn around, she saw the big red and pink stains that traversed haphazardly across the front of his shirt. All she could do was shake her head and chuckle.

“I see you’ve gone hippie on me Dad. Tie-die looks pretty good on you though, it’s very in right now,” she said as her lips widened into a bright smile.

“Everything looks like this,” he said shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s kind of cool, it suits you,” she said moving towards the counter so she could set the bags down. “I’m going to make you guys dinner tonight if that’s okay?”

“That would be nice,” he said.

She knew more than the food, he would appreciate the company of someone who still recognized him, still saw him as the father, still saw him as the man of the house, still saw him as a man.

Stef set about preparing their meal as Eddie set the table.

“How is she doing Dad?”

“Not so good today,” he said. She could hear the catch in his voice and it broke her heart. “She’s had better days.”

“I’m so sorry Dad, I wish there was something we could do.”

She couldn’t stand to see her father looking this way, defeated, sad, and worried. He’d always been so vital and had always been there for everything, for every school event, for every graduation, for every time they needed a hand to hold. Stef could feel the tears rising towards her eyes.

“Why don’t you go get mom up now, dinners almost ready,” she said.

“Okay.”

Chapter One...

She’d sat there so long her butt was numb. The battery of tests they’d ordered had soaked up nearly half of her day and she was becoming more and more annoyed as each moment went by. She had a gigantic list of things she needed to accomplish before the sun went down. These of course were all self-imposed chores, nothing spectacularly interesting, but none less, they were on the list and by God she would get them done even if it killed her.

Over achieving was nothing new to her. It was how she made herself feel worthy. It was also how she made everyone believe that doing everything she did was no big deal even though there were times when she would much rather have stayed in bed with a good book and a cup of tea.

More than just being tired of waiting, she was starting to feel little hints of anxiety rising up into her throat. Would the news be good or bad? Was her world about to get rocked or would they come out, pat her on the back, and tell her to come back in twenty years?

The last thing she wanted was to have a full on panic attack in the middle of the waiting room. She’d experience that once or twice before in public places and she knew the symptoms well. It was not a pretty sight! Her upper lip would start to tingle, as though it had fallen asleep, which it had, because there was no oxygen getting to it as her throat closed up. Then she would feel that horrible pressure, like someone was sitting on her chest and her heart would begin to beat like an out of control clock. Her eyes would start to flitter and she was sure that everyone around her could here the rasping sound of her trying to suck some air into her lungs.

“Do something to distract yourself girl, don’t fall apart here. Keep your game face on,” she told herself quietly.

She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. This was a trick she’d learned at her yoga class to help her calm down, to help balance her mind and body. It seemed to help a little, to slow her heart down to a reasonable rhythm, but her brain continued to rage about miserably with every conceivable bad thought she could imagine.

Today she didn’t want to have to be strong all by herself but she knew she would be. Why wasn’t someone there holding her hand? Where was her support system? But then she remembered. She’d always considered herself too strong to ask for this, from anyone, especially from her daughters.

She had always made it a point not to worry them, especially so after their father walked away from their ‘happy’ marriage. The girls were only six and four when he left, too young to understand the implications, yet old enough to be broken hearted at his sudden departure. He had completely rocked their world and hers.

There’d been no noticeable signs to warn her that that was coming. No lipstick on the caller, no phone ringing in the night, no odd expenditures on their credit cards. No signs at all—nothing. They had always gotten along well. They never seemed to exchange cross words, and they were both equally vested in bringing home the bacon. How could she not have seen it coming?

Perhaps she’d felt too comfortable, too secure, to notice the subtle changes that had transpired. Yes, he was working longer hours and making more business trips at the end, but she thought, because his business was growing, this was completely normal under those circumstances. Boy was she wrong!

***

She could remember the day he left as though it were only yesterday. She’d been at a meeting with her editor, trying to sort out the details of her next novel, and it had gone on longer than expected. She’d called Kurt to ask if he could pick up the girls from school and he had happily agreed. What she didn’t know was that this gave him the time he needed to bid the girls farewell.

As requested, he’d picked them up and taken them to McDonalds for their favorite treat, a Happy Meal. Both the girls were always tickled pink when they dug out the latest toy, something Stef always referred to as LPC, as in little plastic crap that she would forever be picking up off the floor. Sometime during that meal ‘daddy’ explained to them that he had to go away on a very, very, very long trip for his business, and that he wasn’t sure when he’d see them again. They were as always sad at that news, but they didn’t really understand the implications of what ‘very, very, very’ long was.

He brought them home, put their favorite video on and then went upstairs to pack his bags. The girls would glance casually at him as he brought down suitcase after suitcase, but they didn’t budge from the couch. They’d seen him do this a thousand times before so it was no biggie. When he had everything packed away in the car, he came back into the living room and kneeled on the floor in front of the girls.

“Come give Daddy a big hug,” he said stretching his arms out. Both girls flung themselves into his arms. They always loved it when he hugged them together.

“I love you two very much, always remember that okay?”

“We love you too daddy. Have a good time on your trip,” Becky said smiling at him.

He kissed them both on the cheek then released them from his embrace. Both girls saw that there were tears running down his cheeks.

“Why are you crying daddy?” Lily asked. She couldn’t remember ever seeing her dad cry before.

“I just have something in my eye,” was all he could manage to say at that point. “Bye girls.”

“Daddy, are you going to leave us here alone?” Becky asked.

“What?” he said thinking she must have figured it out, that he was about to abandon them, to parentally orphan them of a father.

“Are you leaving us here alone?”

“Oh…no, Kelly’s coming right now to stay with you until your mom gets home.”

“Okay, bye,” she said.

Little did she know that those would be the last words she ever spoke to him.

The doorbell rang announcing the babysitter’s arrival. He stood up then and went towards the door. He turned and looked at them one last time and nearly fell apart when he saw them blowing kisses his way.

“You both be good now.”

He opened the door, greeted Kelly, and then, without another look, he walked out of his home for the very last time.

An hour later Stef arrived home and was surprised to see Kelly sitting there with the girls.

“Where’s daddy?”

“He’s gone on a very, very, very long trip,” Lily said.

“Kelly?”

“He said something came up unexpectedly and he had to go out of town immediately and since he didn’t know what time you were coming back, he called me,” she said shrugging her shoulders in that ‘that’s all I know’ kind of gesture.

“Oh, okay, well I guess you can go now,” she said digging into her purse for some money.

After Kelly left, Stef went into the kitchen so she could call Kurt to find out why he didn’t let her know he was going away. In the past he’d always told her when he had to go away so she could schedule her life around his trips. Even though she worked from home, there were times, just like today, that she had to go into the city. She dialed his number and got his voice mail.

“Hey, what’s up? Why didn’t you call me and let me know you had to go somewhere? Call me back okay? Love you,” she said.

“Are you guys hungry,” she called out to the girls.

“No. Daddy took us to McDonalds.”

Good she thought. Now she would only have to make snacks later if they got hungry, and as it turned out, she didn’t even have to do that.

She tried Kurt’s cell again just before she went to bed but once again got his voice mail. This time she just hung up. She guessed he’d call her when he got to wherever he was going.

Two days passed before she talked to him. She had been worried out of her mind that something bad had happened to him because this was not his usual MO.

What she was about to find out however was that there was never going to be a usual MO ever again. Everything was about to change.

When her cell phone rang she snapped it up on the first ring. She could see it was him on the caller ID.

“What the hell Kurt, why did you wait so long to call me back, I’ve been going out of my mind worrying about you?” she yelled into the phone. “Where are you, and why didn’t you tell me you were going out of town?”

For the next thirty minutes or so Stef didn’t say a word, she just listened. He was gone for good, just like that! He had found someone else! Their life together was over. She could have the house, he’d said, as though that would make things right. He would try to see the girls when he could, but it would be difficult to do very often since he was relocating to Europe. He would leave her some money in their joint bank account, but would be taking the bulk of it for himself since she was still making money.

When she finally hung up the phone she was numb. The world had suddenly become black and white with grey clouds that threatened to open up at any minute surely with the sole intent of drowning her. In less than an hour her world came crumbling down as his words bounced around in her head trying to settle somewhere where they would make sense. How could she have not known?

She was too broken, too shocked, and still way too angry to say anything to the girls, so she locked her feeling up as tightly as she could and went on as if it were business as usual.

Two weeks had passed since Kurt dropped the bomb on her and she felt like she was going to explode. It was almost too embarrassing to tell anyone but she knew if she didn’t unload some of this anger she’d be in trouble. She’d fall and never get up and the girls needed their mother up and running, taking care of them, especially now. They were fatherless and they didn’t even know it yet. Worse, she had no idea how to tell them.

They had always seen her as ‘the can do mom’, a superwoman of sorts and she had never done anything to dispel the way they thought of her, so here she was, alone, like always, waiting for news that could irrevocably change her life; news that could irrevocably change their lives.

***

Cassie dropped Lily off at the day-care center as usual then headed off towards Becky’s elementary school. She could see Becky in her rear view mirror. She was so beautiful with her long dark tresses that always seemed to curl up like Twizzler sticks. She’d always wondered where this trait had come from since both her and Kurt’s hair was bone straight. They’d looked through photo albums in search of the curly culprit but never found one. They finally decided that it had just been a lucky fluke because it suited Becky’s personality just so.

She had tried all night to find the right words, the right tone to explain to her oldest daughter how their life was going to unfold now. How did you tell a child that their father was gone and was not coming back? It was impossible is what it was but she knew that the longer she put it off, the harder it would be.

By the time Stef’s courage arrived she was at Becky’s school. Becky grabbed her lunch off the seat next to her and unbuckled her seatbelt. Stef turned to her as usual so they could give each other a peck on the cheek.

“What would you say if we both played hooky today? We could go on a picnic or something, just you and me,” she spurted out without really thinking it through.

“Mom, I have to turn in my project today, remember?” Becky said.

Stef had been so wrapped up in her personal nightmare she’d completely forgotten that today was the day Becky would present her ‘first official book’ to her classmates. Together they’d worked hard on it over the past few months, tweaking and rewriting so that Stef’s ‘voice’ would not be present. It had turned out so wonderful even Stef had been impressed with her daughter’s natural ability with stringing words and ideas together. She was confidant that this would win her daughter an A in class.

“Your so right. Today’s the day,” she said. “You go knock ‘em dead okay?”

“I love you,” Becky said as she leaned forward to kiss her mom.

“I love you too!” she replied.

***

She hated waiting rooms. They were dull and poorly lit and she always felt that everyone there was simply a whiner that needed to be reassured by someone in a white coat that all was well. Most of the people around her didn’t look sick at all, but then again, neither did she.

Trying for any kind of distraction she scanned the office. The chairs were old and worn, the lamps were straight out of the 1950’s and she couldn’t help but notice that the walls were draped with some kind of prehistoric wallpaper that had long since outlived its beauty. Now it just looked dirty to her. She decided that it was probably a pale shade of blue at one time, but years of stale sickly air had sucked its brilliance out. If she’d had a bucket of soapy water and a rag she probably would have taken it on rather that sit there like a log. That’s when she noticed the dingy old flowers that had been shoved into and old dime-store glass vase like it didn’t matter. Who used fake flowers anymore anyway? What was the point of that? This was a bloody doctors office. They would be raking in the big bucks and it really pissed her off that they couldn’t spring for one bloody live plant to put some oxygen back into the room. It seemed like a no-brainer to her and it would have been a pleasant distraction from the smell emanating from behind the glass window where Nurse Ratchet was sitting picking at her nails.

She’d flipped through every magazine and realized that some of them were old enough to be new again. The fashions they were showing were already years old, but because the young designers today were so uncreative, they stole all these old ideas and made them new again. They she considered cheaters. Spineless creative types that had to follow a leader rather than start a new trend all on their own. Hell, she could take most of what was in her closet, alter it just slightly, and she’d be just as trendy as those skinny little bitches on the cover of the current magazines.

Yes, she was getting angry not only for the wait, but because all this extra time that was passing made her anxiety gush up from her stomach in the form of fowl bile that was lodging itself smack dab in the middle of her throat. She was becoming a human Kilauea ready to let the lava flow. She finally had to get up and get a glass of water just to help her swallow. Where the hell was this doctor? What could he possibly be doing to take so long?

Just as that thought passed from her brain to her lips in the form of an out loud whisper, the door opened and a young nurse called her name.

“Mrs. Casson, come on in,” she said casually as though she was inviting her in for tea.

The young nurse with her perky little ponytail had an odd expression on her face. It wasn’t a smile, nor was it a frown. Stef, being ever the observer, recognized that what she was seeing was apprehension. This girl knew something and she didn’t.

“So,” Stef said hoping the nurse would dispel all her fears by telling her that everything was all right, that she’d be out of there lickety split, but that never happened. Instead she told Stef to get up on the table then turned and left the room.

Being a writer was a curse and a blessing. Her curiosity was always aroused. She spied her file sitting there on the counter next to the sink. Should she she wondered? Would she understand what she was looking at? But like much of life, timing was everything. Just as she was just about to hop down off the table to sneak a peek the door sprung open and the young doctor she had seen earlier came waltzing in.

“Hello Mrs. Casson, please sit.”

He opened her file and flipped through a few pages refreshing his mind with what they’d discovered from her tests.

“Now, I don’t want to alarm you, but we found some things we should discuss.”

“What kind of things?” she said.

“Well, it’s not good news I’m sorry to say but it certainly explains some things.”

Stef drew in a breath afraid that if she didn’t she would throw up the bile lump that seemed to jump forward a few inches when he mentioned bad news.

“Your tests revealed that you have a certain set of cells in your brain that may be a sign of early on-set alzheimer's disease,” he said as he closed the file. He pulled up the little stool, sat down, and then rolled close enough to her to rest his hand on her knee.

For the briefest of moments she thought that his hand felt pretty good on her now bare knee. It felt warm and soft, and when she looked down at it she couldn’t help but notice how taut his skin was, how the veins didn’t protrude like they did on hers, but then his words hit her brain at velocity speed. He had hit her with an F-Bomb. She felt lightheaded, like she was on a train and the conductor has suddenly lost control.

“Excuse me?” she says because she doesn’t know what else to say.

“There’s a genetic link I think. You said your mother suffered from Alzheimer’s correct?”

“Well…yes…but…”

Prologue

This overwhelming sadness Steffanie was experiencing had lingered far longer than she’d ever thought possible. Of course this was not something new to her, it had been haunting her for years, but she'd always been able to handle it. She had to. Her mind and this foreboding feeling, had melded so fortuitously during the past year it had become a way of life. Trying to differentiate who was who, which was which, and what was what, had become nearly impossible.

Sometimes she didn’t even want to tackle the task of sorting it out because feeling nothing, letting go of all her own expectations, was the easier choice. That, she thought, was still doable.

She knew she has to do something about it, but what? What the hell was she going to do now, in her fifties, her body in disrepair, her brain on fire with ideas that sprung like over wound springs? She figured if she threw enough shit at the wall something would eventually stick and she would discover who she was supposed to be as she waited for her mind to slip away, but so far that theory was just a load of crock.

The shit she flung would hit then fall to the floor shattering into little shards that were unrecoverable. They only served to represent the diminishing thought pattern that she had so become aware of. Her brain had become askew. She felt mystified. Yes this was a word she loved to throw around because of its importance, it’s literary value, and it’s ability to make bullshit smell like wine.

She no longer had the luxury of time. It was running out faster than sand slipping through her fingers. She would have to move quickly now, get her life in order, get to what she wanted to accomplish because she knew, deep in her heart of hearts, that time would move at the speed of light now that she’d heard the doctors words out loud…