My heart sank to my toes. I opened my mouth to answer her, correct her, but I couldn’t speak. She thought I was someone else. My mom thought I was her deceased little sister, Debbie. Didn’t she recognize me as her daughter?
“Now, Mom, this isn’t Debbie. This is Charlotte,” Emma said in a soft, soothing voice. “Remember? I told you Charlotte was coming for a visit this weekend.”
Mom reached up and cupped the sides of my face. Her hands were cold against my hot cheeks. Ice cold. Death cold. I shifted my stare between her green eyes, the ones that matched mine, searching for the recognition that should be there. I counted my heartbeats, waiting for her to remember me. Her little girl. The youngest of her two children. Her wild child with such a free spirit. Why wouldn’t her mind allow her to remember me? Did she always remember who Emma was? Was I not memorable enough as a daughter? How could she forget me?
My mind continued to spin out as the seconds ticked away. This moment was why I chose to stay away. I couldn’t handle this. I took Mom’s moments too personally.
“Oh, Charlotte. That’s right. There you are.” Her full lips formed into a smile, and I felt my heart thump back to life inside my chest. Breath filled my lungs once more. She hadn’t forgotten me completely, only for a minute or two. “Emma said you were coming to visit me this weekend. I remember now. Now tell me all about that cruise you were on. I’ve always wanted to go on one, you know?”
I blinked, hoping to keep my tears at bay. “I wasn’t on a cruise, Mom. I drove here from school.”
Her head tipped to the side. She stared at me as though she couldn’t figure out why I would lie to her about such a thing.
“Mom, Charlotte drove from Bradley University. She’s in college now. Remember?”
Mom’s hand lifted to rub her forehead, and I forced myself to remain where I was and not take a step away from her. She was worse than she had been the last time I was home. “That’s right. I’m sorry, Charlotte. I’ve been forgetful lately.”
“It’s okay, Mom. I understand.” I smiled.
I didn’t understand though. Nothing about this disease made sense to me. Alzheimer’s was scary and confusing. It took a person, in my case someone I loved, and forced them to become someone you couldn’t hold a conversation with, someone you didn’t even know anymore.
I hated this disease with a fiery passion.
“Let’s get you back inside.” Emma gently gripped Mom by the shoulders, and turned her toward the house.
I followed behind them, even though every part of me wanted to climb inside my car and hightail it back to my dorm. I was weaker than I thought.
How could Emma handle this on a day-to-day basis? Just that one moment had shaken me to my core.
My sister was stronger than I ever gave her credit for. She was like a freaking superhero.
AFTER EMMA HAD GOTTEN our mom situated in the living room, the two of us moved into the kitchen. I leaned against the counter and watched as she pulled down two glasses from the cabinet to pour us both some lemonade.
“Is she always that bad?” I asked.
“Some days are better than others.”
I took the glass she was offering to me and debated whether it was the right time to bring up a nursing home again. “How bad?”
Emma leaned against the counter beside me. Her eyes shifted to mine. “Do you really want to know?” There was anger laced within her words.
I deserved it. After all, I had left her to deal with everything the second I got accepted to Bradley. I didn’t even look back. Sometimes I wondered what that said about me as a person, as a sister, and as a daughter. Maybe there was some truth to the gossip that floated around Parish Cove about me. I kept telling myself one day I would redeem myself, but deep down I knew the day would never come¸ because I would never have the guts to. I couldn’t handle this situation. If I had ever felt an ounce of belief that I could, it disappeared when Mom called me Debbie.
“Yeah.” I took a sip from my drink to hide the trembling of my lips, even though I knew Emma could probably tell how afraid of her answer I was by looking into my eyes.
“Some days you can’t even hold a conversation with her. Nothing she says makes sense.” Emma sighed. “I think it’s the meds the doctors have her on. They make her have crazy days.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. It was more than likely the disease taking a tighter grip on her, but I wasn’t going to argue.
“Have you talked with them about it?” It was a stupid question. Of course she had talked to them about it. My sister probably kept a log somewhere of how much she was administering to her when Mom had one of her crazy spells. Emma was smart.
“Yeah.” Her lips twisted into a small smile. “I’ve even Googled the heck out of them to see if it was a common side effect.”
I crinkled my nose at her as a smile forced its way onto my face as well. “I knew you probably did. They should offer up some sort of diploma for a Google school or something. I feel like you have a Google PHD.”
She laughed. “I know, right?”
Silence seemed to wrap around us, choking me with its thickness. Normally, I was good with silence. Not in this situation. This was different somehow. The air between us was charged with too many emotions. None of them anything either of us wanted to feel.
“How many good days has she had this week?” I wasn’t sure why I asked. The words had flown past my lips, filling the silence with their sharpness.
Emma glanced at me. “Two.”
I closed my eyes and sighed. The last time I gathered the strength to ask her, the good days had still outweighed the bad, which wasn’t the case anymore. I took another sip of my lemonade as I built up the courage to get my next question out. It was time we revisited the topic again. “Have you thought about—?”
“Don’t.” She cut me off. “Don’t finish that sentence.” Anger laced every one of her words.
“I think it’s something you should consider. She’s bad enough now.” I pressed forward, ignoring her anger. “You’re getting married. Don’t you want to have a normal life with the guy? Putting her in a home would let you.” The words sounded horrible, even to my ears, but they were truthful. Emma deserved normal. She wouldn’t be able to have that with Mom’s crazy spells taking up all of her time.
She shook her head, and when she lifted her eyes to mine, her disgust toward me was palpable. “You aren’t even here for an hour, and you’re already telling me I should toss her in a home and walk away like you did. She’s our mother, Charlotte! How could you even suggest such a thing?”
My cheeks heated. This conversation was spinning out of control. Fast. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m not trying to argue with you,” I backpedaled. “I only meant that you deserve a break. This has to be taking a toll on you.”
“It is. Of course it is.” She seemed calmer. The anger had seeped from her words and become replaced with something else, something I couldn’t name. “If my sister were here to help me—to share in the heartache of the situation—then maybe it wouldn’t be so hard.”
Disappointment. That was the emotion. Emma was disappointed in me.
“You only experienced one bad moment with her, Charlotte. One single moment where she forgot who you were, and you let it break you. You let it freak you out. Try dealing with that every day. Try spending an entire day with her where she can’t remember your name. Try taking her to run errands with you and losing her like a toddler in the store, because you looked away for a split-second.” Her voice was low, but I could still feel the resentment she harbored against me. “You don’t get to tell me when she’s bad enough to go in a home. You don’t have the right because you aren’t here. You don’t see.”
Tears threatened to burst from my eyes. How could I be so inconsiderate? God, I hated my mouth sometimes. “I’m sorry. I—”