talk about. Hard to deal with. But at least if I’m the only one dealing with it, then when I don’t want to think about it—when I want to pretend it’s like it always was, I can. If you don’t know what’s happening, then you won’t ask me what kind of day my dad is having. What the latest news is on his medication. If he’s getting worse.” She swallowed, and closed her eyes a second before snapping them back open and scanning the streets.
Levi slowed the car, giving her time to reassure herself she hadn’t missed anything. Settling back into her seat, she went on. “Sometimes I just need to forget—be someone without all the worries.”
Someone without all the worries.
He understood the need to be someone else for a while. To take a break from the problems. But he also understood something else. “This is why you can’t come with me. Why leaving town, even for a few months, isn’t an option.”
“And why the studio is so important. It’s not just for me.”
No, he’d imagined it wouldn’t be. “What are you thinking?”
“That my mom’s spent the last six years at home taking care of my dad. Giving up a little more of herself each year, because she wouldn’t consider giving up the time she had left with him. Didn’t want to risk speeding up the progression of the disease with a change in surroundings or by bringing in unfamiliar faces. She just kept telling us she could handle it. Refusing to even consider that Dad might be at a point where he needs more help than she can give him. But after this—something has to change. And she’s going to need something to do. A place to go, to start rebuilding a life that doesn’t revolve around someone who mostly doesn’t know who she is anymore.”
He got it. “And you’re going to be ready. With a place for her to come.”
“She needs to be around people again. Get out of that house for more than a trip to the doctor’s office. The studio would be a base where she could spend some time with me. If she wanted to work, she could help out with the child care or handle the front retail area. I just want her to have options. I want to give her something she can count on.”
Because Elise knew what it was to feel as if her options were gone. To suddenly have everything she’d counted on taken away. Levi’s fists clenched over the wheel.
Yeah, now he got it, all right.
He hated that she had to go through this. But at least she wasn’t alone now. He’d stay with her, searching, for as long as she needed him to.
Reaching over, he slipped his hand beneath the tumble of silky curls at Elise’s neck. “We’ll find him.” He just hoped to hell it was the truth.
Twenty minutes later, the phone chimed to life, the screen illuminating behind the white-knuckled grasp of Elise’s fingers.
Slowing at a deserted intersection, he waited as she quickly connected the call.
“What’s going on?” she asked, still scanning the sidewalks. And then her head dropped forward, her free hand covering her face, and something wrenched deep inside his chest.
“Thank God. Where? … I can be there in … Are you sure?… Okay, I’ll see you then.”
Disconnecting, she turned to him, eyes shimmering bright.
“He’s okay?” he asked.
She nodded, her throat moving up and down in the exaggerated way it did with the buildup of too much emotion.
“Yes. David and Ally found him down by this restaurant we used to go to when we were kids. He’s fine. Tired and worn-out—which may have been a good thing in getting him into the car …” Her voice trailed off, and she looked out the window into the darkness of night. “But he wasn’t hurt.”
“Do you want to meet them over at your parents’ house? Is that where they’re going?”
“It is, but they don’t want me to come. David’s going to stay the night and then in the morning I’ll go over and we’ll meet with his doctor. Talk about options.” Leaning back into the seat, shoulders sagging with relief, she closed her eyes. “Could you just take me home?”
She looked fragile in the seat beside him. At that moment, all he wanted to do was pull her into his lap and hold her against his chest. Promise her all kinds of nonsense about how everything would be okay. Only it would be a lie, one that neither of them could buy into. Levi didn’t have a wealth of information about Alzheimer’s, but he knew well enough what it was like to live with a disease that couldn’t be cured.
His mother’s alcoholism. At times she was recovering, but the disease itself would never go away.
Shifting uneasily in his seat, he tried to push the thoughts of his mother away. Only the parallel was too easy to draw, especially as his mother was currently unaccounted for. In Levi’s case, however, there wasn’t anything remarkable about that. She dropped off the grid most every time one of her short-lived bouts of sobriety splashed to an end.
BACK at her apartment, Elise dug into her pocket for her keys. Still shaken by the events of the night and particularly the rushed call from her sister when she’d gotten their father back to the house, she dropped them on the floor, then nearly stumbled trying to pick them up before Levi stepped in to retrieve them for her. Without a word he opened the door and, palm low at her back, guided her inside.
Taking her hand in his, he studied her face—brushed his thumb beneath her eye. “You’re exhausted. Let’s go to bed, honey.”
She peered up at him, and suddenly it was all more than she could bear. All the emotion she’d been fighting to control, all the doubts and fears and needs and wants. Everything burst free in a choked sob too great to contain.
Her hands flew to her face and she tried to turn away, tried to hide, but Levi’s hands were on her shoulders, pulling her back into his arms. “It’s okay, Elise. You can cry, sweetheart.”
And she did. She wanted to stop, but the strength of those arms around her were too much to resist. Levi was solid and warm. Capable. And he didn’t back down or back away beneath the barrage of her tears. Instead he gathered her closer—one hand cupping the back of her head while his other arm banded across her body. Soothing her with that gruff, low voice she hadn’t known could be so tender. “Shh. I’ve got you.”
Her forehead pressed against his chest, finding the center shallow that seemed made just for her. “He hasn’t recognized me for months. Every time I see him, he’s slipped further away. I barely recognize him as the man who raised me and—Levi, when they got home, my mom had a black eye. He’d gotten so agitated this afternoon—she said she couldn’t calm him down and it was just an accident, but …”
Levi’s hand stilled where it was, his whole body seeming to tense around her. And then his arms slipped tighter, holding her more securely than she could ever remember being held. “Has that happened before?”
She shook her head. “My dad? Never.” Her throat constricted. “He wouldn’t raise a hand to any of us. Which makes it all the worse. This disease has stolen him from us. From me. Taken the constant he’s always been and turned it into
