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Was my life so boring that I was placing too much significance on a couple of short conversations with a man who wasn’t my husband? I was being an idiot. “You’re right, thanks. I’ll call you later.” I picked up my gym bag and crossed to the locker room door.

“Wait, you’re not going anywhere until you show me who this guy is,” Ellen said, stopping me from leaving.

“What are we, back in high school?”

She pushed the door open that led to the gym. “Point him out.”

It was the only way she was going to ever let me leave. Besides, I wanted her to see how hot he was. “He’s over there,” I said, pointing. “In theBreaking Badbaseball cap.”

Ellen stared at him. “Ooh, cute. And young. You sure know how to pick a guy to have juice with.”

CHAPTER 8

Afew weeks later, I walked into Brooklawn. I had been coming more often, not just Tuesdays anymore, because Dad had been getting increasingly worse, although he still had good days too. Every time I came in, I prayed for one of those good days.

I walked through the lobby and was heading to the elevator when Julia called me over. She put her arm around me and asked how I was doing. I said okay, but she knew I wasn’t. Julia had worked at the facility for a long time, so she was familiar with a great deal of sadness from both the residents and their relatives. She often had to comfort grieving families, and I had a feeling that her incredible warmth today was her way of telling me something I didn’t want to hear.

She led me to the dining room, saying she hated to drink her morning cup of coffee alone. I thought about admitting my feelings to her about my dad’s condition but saying them out loud would mean I’d have to deal with them. I needed to stay positive or I’d lose my mind. I’d seen the changes in him, and what I hadn’t seen for myself, Mom and Jerry had told me in detail, hence my trying to avoid the two of them.

Julia informed me that over the last three days, Dad had gotten even more agitated, and at times they were having trouble calming him. They would call my mom even if it was late, and she’d talk to him, and he’d settle down and go to sleep. This didn’t happen a lot, but even twice a week was draining on my mom. The on-call doctor had prescribed anti-anxiety medication for Dad, which was helping a little, but the side effect was he slept even more.

In the past, I had confided to Julia that my mother and I didn’t have the best relationship, so she made sure to tell me that my mother had come in early today and was with my father now. I would much rather have had him to myself. I could’ve lingered longer over the coffee, but I knew I couldn’t avoid her if I wanted to spend time with my father.

When I opened the door to Dad’s room, I heard a mix of my parents’ laughter. I didn’t see either of them right away, so I went farther into the room. I could see the bathroom door was open, and Dad was in his wheelchair in front of the mirror. Mom was running a disposable razor under the water. I could see their reflections. Dad’s face was covered with shaving cream, and Mom had bags under her eyes, and there was a gray pallor to her face. Mom gently held his face still with one hand while the other hand went over his beard lightly with the razor. Dad was watching her in the mirror, a look of adoration on his face.

“Be careful,” he said. “I still need my nose.”

“I would never do anything to scar that beautiful face of yours,” she said.

He reached up and touched her hand. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” she said.

They didn’t notice me, so I stood quietly, feeling uncomfortable with their intimacy. It was as though I’d walked in on them fooling around. I could have easily left without them knowing I was there, but instead I stomped my foot, and they both looked in the mirror and saw me.

“Hi,” I said.

Mom wiped Dad’s face off with a wet washcloth and then wheeled him out of the bathroom. “Hi, honey,” Dad said. “Your mom was shaving me so I’ll look my best when I come home tomorrow.”

“You’re not going home,” I said reflexively. I didn’t have a chance to think about why it would’ve been better to keep my mouth shut. Mom was shaking her head at me.

“Yes, I am, and I can’t wait to have your mom’s meatloaf again. The food on this ship is not the five-star rating that I was promised, although I do love sitting at the captain’s table.”

“Dad, you know where you are, right?” I said gently.

“Of course. It was a joke.” I was relieved to see my dad back to his old self, silly jokes and all. He reached out and touched my neck. I was wearing the turquoise ring on a chain, the one he got me when I was five. “I can’t believe you still have that,” he said.

“I would never get rid of it. I love it.” My mother gave me one of her looks. I knew she hated this ring.

Dad pushed down on the sides of his wheelchair and tried to stand up. “Wait, I’ll call a nurse,” Mom said. I would’ve helped him, but he was heavy, and I was afraid I’d drop him.

His tone changed. “There’s no damn nurses here. They’re all on strike.” I’d never seen him this angry, let alone curse in any way.

“They’re not on strike. They’re right down the hall,” I said.

“No, they aren’t. I saw them picketing outside the window. Go look.” He pointed to the window.

Mom and I looked at each other. I thought it was another one of his jokes, but I could see by his scowl that it wasn’t.