Role Playing(66)



Aiden looked at Sheryl, who had also gotten to her feet. When their gazes met, she nodded, shooting Davy a quick look before helping their mother. “I need to go too.”

“Don’t baby me, Sheryl,” his mother growled in a low voice, but she still took Sheryl’s arm as they made their way toward the bathrooms. Aiden and Davy watched them as they headed down the hallway.

“She’s gotten worse,” Davy said, and his voice was a mixture of surprise and dismay.

“I’ve been fucking telling you!” Now it was Aiden’s turn to growl.

“Well, how was I supposed to know? She sounded fine when I talked with her!”

“And how long ago was that?” Aiden asked, before rubbing his temples. “Listen, we’ve got to get her to think ahead, okay? She’s managing, but that’s with me grabbing her groceries, cleaning her house, driving her around. Even with all that—she’s still falling, Davy.”

Davy grimaced. “What does her doctor say?”

“She’s not letting me talk to her doctor,” Aiden said. “I don’t have medical authority. Besides, you know what the facilities are like in the Falls. If she needs to see a specialist, it’s a two-hour drive to Spokane, easy. Having her in the car for four hours round trip, every week?”

Davy fell silent, looking troubled.

“She won’t talk with me, Davy,” Aiden said, quietly, urgently. “We’re gonna hit a point where I can’t take care of her on my own. I don’t mean hospice, although that’ll be a thing at some point, I imagine. I mean just day-to-day care.”

“But you’re doing fine now,” Davy protested. “I don’t see why—”

“No, you don’t see,” Aiden said. “She doesn’t like me. She hasn’t liked me in years.”

Davy spluttered. “I thought it was better, since—”

“It isn’t.” Aiden kept going, implacable. “Dad barely came around before he died. In fact, I think that’s part of why Mom’s still so pissed. She relies on me, and hates it. Dad didn’t get me to change who I am before he left, and she feels like it’s on her. Leaving her in my care is not doing her any favors, Davy. And it’s only going to get worse.”

“What do you want me to do about it?” Davy shot back, eyes sparking.

“Help me. Talk to her. Get her to think about the legal stuff, the medical stuff.” He swallowed. This was going to be the hard part. “And . . . we’re going to need to think of long-term care.”

Davy paled. “But she loves the Falls, dude.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Aiden felt like his chest was going to implode from the weight. “I don’t want to make those kinds of decisions. But—the doctors. The drive. The in-home care. The Falls is not equipped for what she’s gonna need, probably sooner than we realize. I’ve seen it happen, too many times.”

Davy was subdued, silent. He looked like a guy who’d been cornered in an alley, trying desperately to think of how to escape.

Eventually, Sheryl and his mother came back to the table. His mother sat down with a sigh, then looked her sons over. “All right, what’s going on?”

“Mom,” Davy said quietly. “Aiden was telling me—”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” For as frail as she looked, their mother sounded like a drill sergeant. “If this is about all that lawyer stuff and medical stuff, and how I apparently can’t take care of myself—”

“Mom,” Aiden tried to interrupt, but it was too late. Here was the explosion. He glanced around, but fortunately, most of the other guests were already pretty wasted, and few were paying any attention to the drama that was quietly unfolding at their table.

To his surprise, his mother unleashed a wide smile. “But here’s the thing. You told me I don’t have to talk to you about any of this stuff. You said you’d drop it. So we’re not going to talk about it.”

“What?” Aiden gaped. “When did I say that?”

“When you said you’d have a date.” She looked smug.

He narrowed his eyes, trying to remember their “agreement.” “Mom, just because I don’t have a date doesn’t mean it’s not important. We have to talk about this!”

“Nuh-uh.” His mother looked triumphant, crossing her arms as a waiter put little bowls of ice cream in front of all four of them. “We had a deal. No date, no discussion. I get to drive again. And if you bring up any of that ‘long-term care’ crap, I will boot you out of my house!”

He felt a chill run down his spine, exchanging a worried look with Davy. “But . . . I don’t live with you.”

There was a split second of surprise.

No. Not surprise. Confusion.

“Well, you’re there often enough,” his mother carped, but her tone was more hesitant. “That’s what I meant.”

Aiden felt like his shoulders were made of granite. He wanted to howl. Part of him felt like throwing up his hands and saying, Fine! Do what the hell you want! Just walk away and leave her to her own stubbornness. She’d hated so many aspects of him, for so long. The nursing. The “gay thing.” The potential scandal. Never getting married, never having kids. What the hell did he need her judgments for? Why keep helping her when she made his life so miserable?

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