Page 32

After Athena left, she fell into bed and slept.
—
Now, glancing at the clock on the nightstand, she saw that it was almost four o’clock. A wave of nausea made her draw her knees up to her chest as she breathed in and out. Sweat broke out on her forehead, and she stumbled from the bed and ran to the bathroom, where she vomited. Afterward, she splashed cool water on her face and waited for the dizziness to pass. Looking in the mirror, she spoke aloud:You will get through this.The woman looking back at her, the one with the dark circles under her eyes and the swollen face, didn’t appear to be convinced.
Returning to her bed, Sloane lay back in exhaustion, but an all-consuming thirst forced her to rise to a sitting position, her arms shaking with the effort. Reaching over to pick up the glass of water on the table, she grasped it tightly and brought it to her parched lips. She tried unsuccessfully to return it to the bedstand, and it went crashing to the floor. Beads of sweat again dotted her forehead, and she fell back against the pillow, exhausted by the effort. As a new wave of nausea overwhelmed her, she inhaled deeply in an attempt to keep it at bay. She finally reached next to her and pressed the button to summon Athena.
“Are you all— Oh my.” Athena surveyed the hardwood floor and the broken glass scattered there. “I’ll be right back with something to clean this up.”
Athena came back, sweeping up the mess and then setting another drink on the nightstand—a plastic tumbler with a lid and straw. “Here you go, this one won’t break.”
Sloane sat up and pushed herself to the edge of the bed. “I don’tneed a sippy cup, Athena. Glasses break sometimes.” The nerve of this woman. Sloane wouldn’t be treated like this. She picked up her phone and rang for Doris.
“Doris, would you please bring me a ginger ale. And some saltines. Thank you.” She turned to Athena. “I don’t know what you put in that smoothie, but it made me sick.”
Athena looked at her in surprise. “You vomited?”
“Yes!”
“I’m sorry. I don’t think it was the smoothie. Maybe some of the meds?”
Sloane waved a hand, wanting to be rid of her. “I’ll be better once Doris brings me the ginger ale.”
“Okay. Hopefully later you can eat some dinner. I made lemon chicken soup. You’re due for your last dose of prednisone, and you don’t want to take it without food and upset your stomach again.”
Suddenly, Athena’s face changed, and her teeth grew long. They became pointed fangs. She leaned in to smooth the covers and Sloane shrank back. Athena’s entire face morphed into that of a snarling monster, with thick saliva spewing from her mouth. Sloane blinked, and slowly Athena’s face returned to normal. She clutched the cover in front of her, terrified.
“Are you okay?” Athena asked.
Sloane took a deep breath. What had just happened? “Um, yes, I’m just tired. You can go.”
“You rest now. I’ll come back in a few hours with the soup and your meds.”
Sloane nodded her assent. Had she just had a hallucination? She thought of some of the stories she’d heard at her support group of people who had brain involvement. But surely she had just imagined it all. She was still trying to process it when she heard Whit call Athena’s name.
“How’s she been today?” she heard him ask Athena.
“I think she’s getting worse.”
“It seems that way to me too.”
The voices were just outside her room, Whit’s deep and sonorous, and Athena’s soft and lilting.
The talking continued, but muffled, so it was difficult for her to make out what they were saying. Sloane shifted in the bed, moaning as a bolt of pain shot through her body. Fighting sleep, she opened her eyes and watched the two of them through the crack of the slightly ajar door. Whit’s tall frame bent toward Athena, and then his hand rested on her shoulder as they spoke in hushed tones. Sloane’s eyes grew weary, and just before she closed them, she saw Whit reach out and close her bedroom door.Had Athena reached up and stroked his face? And had he smiled at her the way he used to smile at Sloane? She must have imagined that too.
- 25 -
ATHENA
On the evenings Whit was home, he carried Sloane’s dinner tray upstairs and sat with her while she ate. His own meal was then served in the dining room by around eight thirty. But earlier that morning, Athena had requested they dine together so she could update him on Sloane’s progress, and now she took a seat across from him at the inlaid wooden table. It was set as if for an elegant dinner party, with bone china server and bread plate, crystal glassware, and sterling silver cutlery. She wondered if he had specifically requested the graceful array since they were having dinner together or if he ate this way every night.
“Thank you for allowing me to dine with you tonight. I thought it would be good to have a chance to share some concerns I have without Sloane overhearing.”
He frowned. “Concerns?”
“You asked me when I first started to let you know if I saw any signs of a decrease in her mental acuity. And I’m sorry to say that I have.”
“Go on.”