rested in his hands, his hair was messy like the old Zach, and even though his muscles were visible beneath his thermal shirt he looked small. Smaller than I ever remembered.
He wasn’t looking at me, but I slowed my pace. How was I supposed to approach him? Announce myself, place my hand on his knee or just jump up on the hood of the Jeep?
The sound of my feet hitting the pavement disrupted the quiet night and Zach lifted his eyes to me.
“Hey,” he said and by the way his lips only curved slightly it was obvious he was trying to put on a happy face.
“Hey,” I said back.
I didn’t intend for it to be awkward, but it was. Really awkward. There was something wrong. He was hurting. But what was I supposed to do? In the past I would’ve wrapped my arms around him and comforted him until he was ready to speak. But that was something I could no longer do. I pulled myself up onto the Jeep and sat beside him.
“I didn’t know who else to call. I just feel comfortable talking to you and you’re a good listener. You always knew the right things to say.”
As his words tumbled out, I decided to stop thinking and just go with it. Friends didn’t need to overanalyze everything. They didn’t need to think about what they’re going to say. They just let it happen.
“Hit me with it,” I said as his big brown eyes looked up at me. His mouth parted and I braced for the words. But he didn’t say anything. He fumbled with his hands instead. “Come on. You just told me how I’m a good listener, so give me something to work with. Is it Mimi?”
He nodded, sadness pooling in his eyes. “It’s pretty bad. She’s healthy, you know. Her blood pressure is perfect. She could probably outrun me and our entire writing class, but that doesn’t mean anything because her mind is going. What is any of that stuff without her mind?
“Anyway, it started this morning. She kept telling me to get ready because my father was coming home, and if I wasn’t ready by the time he got home we weren’t going out to dinner.”
“That doesn’t seem so bad,” I said.
“True, except she thought I was my Dad and she was referring to my dead grandfather.”
“Jesus.”
“Tell me about it.” Zach closed his eyes and rubbed at the center of his forehead.
“But you said she has her good and bad days,” I said, trying to find the light in the tunnel, “and today was just one of her bad days.”
“But her bad days used to be fewer and farther between. It was glimpses of the disease, not an all-day battle with it. It’s just tearing me apart because there’s nothing I can do. I’m helpless.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” I inched closer. “You spent the entire day with her. You could have gone out with us tonight, but you didn’t. You stayed with Mimi. That’s not helpless. That’s selfless.”
“Still,” he said, “I can’t stop the spells, can’t stop the disease from progressing and pretty soon she won’t even know who I am.” He moved his hand from his forehead to run his fingers through his hair.
Zach was always good at holding himself together, letting things roll off, but this was different.
I felt like him. Helpless.
There was nothing I could say. Nothing I could do. So I did the only thing I could do.
I held him.
Chapter 10
I didn’t bring up the night Zach and I spent on the hood of his Jeep and neither did he. It was as if it never happened. I preferred it that way. It just made things easier for me. For both of us.
I avoided going out with the group mainly because if I had to hear Joe go on and on with everybody about how well his drum lessons were going, I was going to take his drum stick and shove it up his . . . Whoa. Deep breath.
However, Joe had learned quickly and he was now officially a part of the band. His first gig was later that night, and he wanted me at the front of the crowd, cheering him on. I never saw myself as a groupie, but it was what Joe wanted so I would oblige. Plus, it gave me an excuse to buy a new outfit.
I headed to the mall a few towns over, glancing at the storefronts on Main Street. The windows were adorned with both fall and Christmas decor, as if the proprietors didn’t know what holiday to push.
At the crosswalk I stopped to let a family pass and glanced to my left while I waited. My eyes settled on the Santa Claus cutout in a window, then quickly focused on the commotion taking place behind it.
A man behind the counter waved his hands in the air as if he was out of patience for the customer in front of him. I inched up a little as the father took a last step out from in front of my car, and despite the honking horns behind me, I stopped dead.
With Santa no longer blocking my view, I could see into the store. Mimi was standing there in her housecoat, arguing with the man.
I could have easily driven off, gone on my way to get ready for the show, but it was Mimi and I couldn’t. I needed to make sure she was okay.
Fate was on my side, and a car pulled away from the curb a few feet in front of me. I put my blinker on and maneuvered into the space. Who said girls are bad drivers? I could parallel park anywhere.
Once my car was in the spot, I jumped out and ran across the street, halting cars in my path.
If that guy was giving Mimi a hard time I would rip him apart. Didn’t he know the customer was always right? And regardless of that, hadn’t he ever heard of respecting your elders?
From the doorway I could see the frustration in Mimi’s eyes. Their usual tranquil blue was a furious icy gray. I threw open the door and marched into the store. I was about to open my mouth and give this guy a piece of my mind when I heard Mimi.
“I don’t understand why you are making this such an issue. I just want four chicken breasts cleaned and sliced thick. If Don was here he would do it for me. He must be off today. Are you new? I’d hate to have to tell Don about your poor customer service.” I looked to the man behind the counter. He was a younger guy with dark, slicked-back hair and a five o’clock shadow.
“Ma’am, like I said, this is no longer a butcher shop. Hasn’t been in twenty years. I wish I could help you.” He wasn’t yelling at Mimi. He was trying to make her understand.
My eyes burned with held-back tears as I tried to push aside the fact that Mimi had clearly slipped back in time. In order to communicate with her, I needed to go back to the past.
“Mrs. Roberts, is that you?” I said it louder than necessary, but it worked. At the mention of her name, Mimi quickly turned and settled her eyes on me.
“I’m sorry, do I know you, dear?” She squinted in my direction.
“Probably not, but I know your son Zachary. We went to school together and I remember seeing you in the stands.” I remembered Zach’s dad was a football player back in high school. “You always had your Raider’s flag waving in the air.”
“I never missed a game. My boy was something, wasn’t he?” The tension in her face eased.
“Yes, he was.” I looked up for a second and caught the eye of the guy behind the counter. I silently pleaded with him to play along. “He brought us to State,” I said.
“He did. Oh, and what a game that was. He got two touchdowns in the first quarter.” Mimi’s eyes lit up as they always did when she talked about her family.
“He was a hometown legend,” I said, not sure how to continue the conversation.
“It was lovely talking to you dear,” Mimi said, “but if you don’t mind I am trying to order meat for my dinner. It’s our anniversary. I want to make my husband his favorite.” She turned back to the man behind the counter. If I could just find a way to get her out of the store.
“Chicken parmesan,” I blurted out, thankful for all those family dinners I had shared with them. Mimi had once boasted about how Zach was so much like his grandfather that they even had the same favorite dish.
“Why yes. How did you know?” she asked, turning back to me.
“Lucky guess.” I had to think fast. I needed to get Mimi in my car and back to the assisted living facility
