Every Happy Family by Dede Crane Page B

school photos, pictures of me and Kenneth, Dad.”
    â€œNo picture of me?” he tries for levity.
    â€œAnd her little book of verse, car keys, reading glasses and a deck of cards.”
    â€œCar keys.” Jill’s mother hasn’t driven for years.
    â€œShe loves that oyster shell key chain. The one she says Dad found that pearl in.”
    â€œSo where did it all end up?”
    â€œI asked a nurse, who said ‘patients forget whose things are whose. It’s like sharing toys to them.’ Then I realized it wasn’t even Mom’s purse!”
    Les snorts. “Who’s on first?”
    â€œThis tiny lady named Bea had it.”
    â€œYou switch them?”
    â€œI told Bea she had the wrong purse and she smiled a great big smile and held on tighter. Got one of the male nurses to do it. The women of that generation listen to men.”
    â€œWas everything in there?”
    â€œHer wallet was, and the cards, but no glasses, book or key chain.”
    â€œDo you think the nurses steal stuff?”
    â€œLes, don’t make me paranoid.”
    â€œI wasn’t serious,” he’s quick to say, admonishing himself for planting that seed. “You know you did the right thing,” he repeats. “It’s the best facility in the area.”
    â€œApparently Nancy has begun to undress herself in the public areas. Unbuttons her blouse, leaves it open, especially when one of the male nurses is around.”
    â€œThat’s interesting.”
    â€œNo, that’s weird. Awful. That’s so not her.”
    â€œI know it’s not her but, Sweetheart, dementia is progressive. Personalities change.”
    â€œThey keep it awfully warm in there. I think she’s too warm and is too polite to say, can you open a window? Turn down the thermostat?”
    â€œOh,” he says, having forgotten to mention it and thinking this an opportune time. “I read this article in Time . On coffee. That studies are showing something in coffee slows memory loss in Alzheimer’s patients.”
    â€œMom loves coffee,” says Jill, sounding hopeful. “I’ll ask them to serve her more coffee.”
    On this positive note, he rolls over to face her, hoping his erection isn’t too soon.
    â€œWhat you do think about Beau going away for grades eleven and twelve?” she asks, and he knows the change in subject is a good sign. “That sure surprised me. Leave all his friends. Pema. Grade ten and he’s already star of the senior rugby team.”
    â€œIf he’s serious about pursuing rugby, I guess that school’s the place to be,” says Les and kisses around her ear. “He’ll have to get accepted first.”
    â€œHe’ll have to get financial aid, you mean. Are you aware of the cost?”
    He starts down the side of her neck and she leans away, making room for him. Under his lips, he feels her faint shiver.
    â€œWith room and board it’s forty thousand a year. We’d have to remortgage.”
    â€œI want you,” he exhales in her ear.
    â€œHe kept asking so I went ahead and set up an interview.”
    â€œDoor locked?”
    She nods. “The entrance exams could be a problem.”
    He cups her face, a gesture she once told him never fails to make her feel beautiful.
    â€œPema’s not happy about it,” she says, then allows her eyes to close as his lips find her mouth and she kisses him back.
    With his finger, he outlines her breast – how he loves her breasts – and as she exhales with a soft moan, he can almost see the thundering train of her thoughts derail, feel her sink into the forgotten home of her body. He marvels at her responsiveness, the apparent magic in his hands. She pushes back against him and as her hand disappears under the sheet, his own thoughts crash and burn.
    â€œOw,” he says in surprise.
    â€œOw?”
    â€œA pain in the old rucksack.”
    â€œYou