Today’s Fiction Friday is another passage from my current work-in-progress, Chaos Theory. This is a portion from later on in the book. The main character’s dad has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, and this is the first time we see her really interacting with him after it has severely affected him. If you’ve read the synopsis of the book, you know that it follows two alternative timelines (but not in a sci-fi way…) and when I was planning it, I wanted to have an event that wasn’t dependent on her initiating choice so it would happen in both timelines, and readers could see the two different reactions. This event is her dad being diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. I drew on my experience of living with my grandpa who has Alzheimer’s, as well as listening to and reading lots of stories from other people taking care of their parents who have Alzheimer’s and dementia.
Meredith turned off the engine of the car after pulling up in front of her parents’ house. Before getting out of the car, she paused, arms rested on the steering wheel, considering the house. She had grown up here. A few years ago her mom had talked about downsizing, but when her dad was diagnosed, they all agreed it would be best for him to stay in a house he was familiar with. So now it was just the two of them in a house that was both too large for them, yet seemed so much smaller now than it was in her memories as a child. The lawn was no longer overgrown, stretching out across the front sidewalk like fingers of some stringy green beast, which it had started to do last year when Dad couldn’t work the lawnmower anymore. Her mom had finally decided to hire a neighborhood high school kid to come over and mow it weekly, so it now looked as kempt as it had when her dad was in charge of it—almost, anyway. He always seemed to be extra perfectionist when it came to the yard. The neighbhorhood kid didn’t have that level of care—understandable, but still.
As Meredith stepped out of the car, her mom opened the front door. “Meredith? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, Mom, why?”
“I just saw your car pull up and then you didn’t get out of it.” She was standing on the porch wearing a flowy maxi dress, deep blues mixed with greens.
“Oh—just thinking, that’s all.” Meredith smiled at her mom. “You look nice.”
Her mom smiled back, glancing down quickly at her outfit. “I’m sure I’m overdressed, but it’s so hot and I figured, why not?”
Meredith had reached the porch by this time and gave her mom a hug. “‘You can never be overdressed or over-educated.’ Oscar Wilde.”
Her mom laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
They parted from the hug and Meredith followed her inside. Her mom’s friend had invited her to go see a show at the Dallas Summer Musicals series, and Meredith had quickly agreed to stay with Dad so she could go. It was, at least in Meredith’s memory, the first time she had gone out without Dad since the end of last year when his Alzheimer’s had gotten noticeably worse.
“Okay, Joy should be here any minute,” her mom was saying, picking up her purse and checking to make sure she had her keys and phone. “There are some leftovers in the fridge for when you two get hungry. Just make sure that he only eats one or two helpings—”
“Mom, I know,” Meredith said smiling. “I’m the one who caught him eating his fourth slice of cake on Leah’s last birthday, remember?”
Her mom sighed, but smiled a little. “I forgot about that. I understand he doesn’t remember getting the first three, but I really don’t get how he didn’t feel sick after them!”
Meredith gave her mom’s shoulder a squeeze. “I got this. You go have fun.”
Her mom smiled widely at her, and Meredith could see how excited she was to go, but also saw threads of worry creasing her forehead. “Okay, I just…”
“What, Mom?”
She shook her head. “It’s been awhile since I’ve left him like this. We’re always together, either her at home or out at dinner or the store…I’m just worried that he won’t handle it well.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” Meredith said. “So you don’t have to worry. I can call Leah or Jeremiah for backup if I need to.”
Her mom nodded, smiling, and Meredith hoped she listened to her. They both turned as they saw a car pull up in front of the house. “That’ll be Joy,” her mom said, checking her purse one more time. “Okay. I love you, and I’ll be back in a few hours. Call me if you need anything.”
Meredith nodded, and her mom walked quickly to the living room where Dad was seated in the recliner, watching TV. “Okay, Carson, I’m going out for a little bit, but Meredith is here, all right?”
Carson turned slowly, taking in the two women. His eyes lit up with recognition when he saw Meredith. “Mer bear!” She smiled, relieved he still remembered her nickname. That was a good sign.
Her mom nodded, and then went out the front door, closing it gently behind her.
“Where is Dawn going?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed.
Meredith sat down on the couch, placed diagonally from his chair. “She has tickets to see a show with her friend Joy.”
Her dad nodded. “Right. I remember that,” he said, but it was in the voice he used when he was trying to cover up the fact that he had no memory of whatever was being discussed. Meredith didn’t push it.
“So how have you been, Dad?” she asked, sliding off her sandals and tucking her feet underneath her on the couch.
“Oh, you know, same old, same old,” he shrugged. This had become his standard answer to this question.
“Mom told me you guys went on a walk yesterday,” Meredith prompted.
His eyebrows furrowed again. “She said that?”
Meredith nodded. “Yep. You guys walked around the neighborhood to the park, because the weather was really nice yesterday. It’s back to being super hot today.”
Her dad nodded slowly. “Right. We fed ducks.”
Meredith smiled, feeling a knot of tension loosen in her chest. “Yeah, she mentioned that.” She paused, but he didn’t respond, his eyes sliding back towards the TV. “What’re you watching?” she asked, turning to look also.
“What? Oh, I don’t know, just whatever is on,” he said simply. It appeared to be a lengthy infomercial. Meredith held back a sigh.
“Are you hungry, Dad?” she asked, standing.
He paused, as if thinking, before responding, “Actually yes. I don’t think I’ve eaten all day.”
Meredith stood up from the couch. “Yes you have, Dad. Mom was here and I’m sure she made you breakfast and lunch.”
“Really? I don’t remember that.” His brows were furrowed again.
“I know. That’s okay.” She walked over to his chair to give him a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll heat up dinner and we’ll eat in a little bit, okay?” He nodded, and Meredith made her way into the kitchen.
Leftovers were in the fridge as her mom had said—some pieces of chicken and a mix of vegetables. Meredith placed the meat on a plate and put it in the microwave. As she waited for it, she could hear the TV blaring loudly from the other room, an obnoxious man describing a supposedly miraculous gardening tool. She wondered if she should offer to change the channel for him, or if that would just offend him.
Before she had decided, her dad shuffled around the corner and into the kitchen.
“Hey Dad. Need something?” she asked. Meredith hated the chipperness that had begun to seep into her voice whenever she spoke to him now. It was the way people talked to four year olds, not their fathers. And yet he seemed so childlike at times, that it was hard not to. It was also a convenient way to cover up any frustration or annoyance that may otherwise slip out in her tone.
He paused, looking around the room, like he had forgotten how he had arrived there, wringing his hands together repeatedly. Finally, her dad said, “Are we eating dinner tonight?”
Meredith forced a smile onto her face. “Yep, I’m heating it up right now.” She cut off the Remember? from the end of her sentence, knowing he wouldn’t remember and it would only make him feel bad.
The microwave beeped, and she gingerly removed the plate before replacing it with a bowl of the vegetables in the microwave. When she turned around, she saw he had sat down at the kitchen table.
“Do you want to eat in here or the living room?” she asked.
“We always eat in here,” he said simply.
“Right.” She wondered how he remembered things like that but not that she had said two minutes ago that she was making dinner.
The microwave sounded again and she removed the vegetables. Quickly, she distributed the food to two plates and brought them over to the table along with the silverware. Then she went to the cabinet to retrieve cups, but nearly dropped them when she heard her dad cry out sharply.
“Dad! What’s wrong?” she asked, quickly crossing the few steps to the kitchen table.
He was spitting out a bite back onto the plate. “It’s hot.”
Meredith closed her eyes, stomach threatening to revolt at the half-chewed piece of chicken. “Sorry, Dad, I should have warned you. I just finished heating it up.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?” He nodded, and picked up a paper napkin and then wrapped the piece of chicken in it, which Meredith appreciated.
She finished getting them glasses of water, and then they sat down at the table to eat. They said grace, another detail that her father always managed to remember, and then began eating.
There were a few moments of silence, before her dad said, “So, how are things with you?”
“They’re good,” she said, once again internally wincing at the camp counselor level of perkiness that saturated her voice. “Work is going well for me. I’ve got a big event next week that I’m covering when the presidential candidates visit Birmingham, which sounds exciting but usually just means waiting on a tarmac for an interminable amount of time.” She smiled, but her dad seemed focused on eating his chicken. “Jeremiah is enjoying his job also. He’s got a new round of people he’ll start training next week, so he’s excited.”
“What do you do again?” he said abruptly.
Meredith swallowed. “I’m a journalist, Dad. I write for AL.com.”
His eyes grew wide. “No kidding?”
“Yep. For about four years now.” She smiled tightly.
Her dad nodded, eyebrows raised even as he turned back to cut into his chicken again. “And who’s Jeremiah?”
“My husband, Dad. I’m married.” She prepared herself for the barrage of questions that typically followed this reminder.
His head snapped up. “You’re married? Since when? Did we come to the wedding?”
“For almost ten years. Yes, of course you came. You walked me down the aisle.”
Her dad stared at her as if she had just told him he had been the first man to walk on the moon. “I did?”
She nodded, her throat tight. “Yeah. You told me a knock-knock joke right before, to make me less nervous.”
He smiled slightly. “That does sound like me.”
Meredith smiled back at him, but quickly stood up before he could ask about the tears in her eyes. “Do you want some more water?”
“Sure, Mer bear. Thanks.”
She brought both glasses to the sink and flicked on the filtered water tap to fill them. She wiped her cheeks briefly with the back of her hand to clear them of any remaining tears before returning to the table, setting a glass down in front of her dad.
“Did we do a father daughter dance?”
The question caught her off guard. He had never asked that one before. Usually by the time she had returned doing whatever activity was convenient to give herself a moment to get composed, he had moved on to a new topic.
Meredith cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah. We danced to ‘The Way You Look Tonight.’”
He nodded slowly. “Frank Sinatra. Great song. We used to dance to that when you were a kid. Do you remember that?”
“Of course, Dad.” She smiled, more to herself than at him. “We would push all the furniture out of the way in the living room. You taught me how to waltz. That’s why I chose it.”
He smiled at her and, for just a second, it was like nothing had changed, like they were just a father and daughter having dinner together. Like seeing movement in a window of a house you thought was abandoned.
“Where’s Dawn?” he asked abruptly, frowning as he looked around.
Meredith breathed in sharply. “She’s out with friends. She’ll be back in a little bit.”
He nodded, and turned back to his plate of food. Meredith watched him for a few moments, sitting at the kitchen table where she had eaten cereal every morning for years, struggled over algebra homework, fought with Leah at game nights, surrounded by the house she once knew, that was now empty and still.
Featured image by Tim Doerfler