The Wedding Party (24 page)

“Don't be silly,” she said. “Besides, I want to hear what the doctors have to say. Having a cell phone and laptop computer just makes the whole process of being away from the office that much easier.” But she resisted as much as she could, forcing herself to leaf through a magazine or read a few pages from a book.

There had been lots of tests to determine the cause of Lois's symptoms, everything from blood work to imaging to neurological and psychological tests. She did everything from laying still in a long, skinny, clanking MRI tube to repeating words from memory and getting scores. It was tedious and often discouraging. Lois knew she wasn't scoring as well as she might have even two years ago. “I feel like I'm working with half a brain,” she complained. “It's maddening.”

Wedged into the tight schedule of medical professionals was the matter of the burned house. Reconstruction companies sent out representatives, one after the other, to bid on the job of repairing the kitchen.
Not only was it far more expensive than she had guessed it would be, it was going to take much longer. And, of course, the insurance company had a million excuses why they wouldn't be responsible for the full amount. “I'm a lawyer,” she had said to the adjuster. “Are you sure you want to screw around with me?” To which he had answered, “It will be our absolute honor, ma'am.”

There was no possible way Lois could have done this alone. In fact, Charlene couldn't do it alone. She called Dennis for every medical question, and Jake or Jasper for every building and reconstruction question.

Having Lois staying at Jasper's house was perfect. As one doctor told Charlene, “Jasper might be more than willing to look after your mother and give her lodging, but he can't take the place of a close family member. It's very important to Lois that you're nearby and involved. She needs to be close to the familiar.” Charlene agreed, but at the end of every day filled with appointments, phone calls and as much time at her office as she could squeeze in, there was still dinner at Jasper's with her mother and often Stephanie, with Dennis or even Jake dropping by. After Lois was settled for the night, Charlene made the long ride home exhausted. Five a.m. with her usual exercises and low-fat breakfast came mighty early. She was so busy making sure everyone was getting what they needed, she hadn't taken her own emotional temperature in weeks.

Together she and Lois chose the company that seemed best suited for the job, and by the questions Lois asked the young representative, one would never
know she was showing the early symptoms of dementia. That's what made this all so hard. She not only had lucid moments, she had lucid hours and even the occasional day without doing or saying anything entirely off the wall.

Then came the day Lois had to go to the library where she read books onto tape as a volunteer. “You could go to work for a few hours if you want to,” she invited Charlene. “You could just drop me off and come back later.”

It was very tempting, Charlene thought. Every day the work that accumulated on her desk grew taller. But she didn't want Lois to be “left.” “Are you sure
you
want to do this?” she asked her mother.

“I'm not going to give up my volunteer work until I absolutely have to.”

“Or you could ask Jasper. I'm sure he'd be delighted.”

“I could, but I've never liked asking.”

That was Lois in a nutshell, and one of the things that was going to make taking care of her so difficult. She didn't like to ask for help. And, if the help was going to act put out about it, she would feel terrible. “Let me go with you, Mom,” Charlene said. And in thinking about it, she grew happier about the idea. The work would always be there. “It will be like revisiting my youth. It's been years and years since I've gone to the library just to poke around, play with books, find something to read that's completely entertaining.”

“I'm surprised you can stomach the idea, after be
ing held hostage in a library all your childhood, then spending so many years in law libraries.”

“The library has always been a comfort, like a second home.”

In jeans, tennis shoes and a T-shirt, as opposed to her usual lawyerly suit, Charlene looked like a young girl. And like a girl, she sat on the floor in the adult fiction section, the D-F aisle strictly by happenstance, and paged through novel after novel, just visiting the books. The construction of the “to be read” stack had always been her favorite part about reading when she was a preteen. She liked to play with her books in much the same way a cat plays with a lizard before she bites off its head. The covers were the first to catch her eye, then the title. She'd then read the jacket blurb, but the most important factor was the first page or two.

While she consciously looked through books and Peaches sat in an enclosed room behind the periodicals reading into a tape recorder, Charlene's subconscious was remembering her childhood by the sounds and smells of the library.
We didn't do too badly, Peaches and me,
she thought. In the first apartment building they had lived in, Lois had been the only woman with a child whose husband was seldom around. But the neighbors were friendly and supportive. In fact, there were lots of them who would have kept Charlene after school, but that wasn't what Lois had wanted to do. “She'll get her homework done at the library, plus read a little extra. It'll be good for her.” And now that Charlene remembered it, the neighbors also weren't
judgmental about this man who wandered through their lives every now and then.

Then there was the purchase of that new little house in Fair Oaks, surrounded by trees and rolling hills, in the shadow of the mountains. What an achievement that was. Now, having worked as she had, raising a daughter of her own, Charlene finally realized what it must have taken for her librarian mom to save enough money to get into that house.

When they'd moved, they'd only had enough furniture for one and a half rooms—the bedroom set they shared and a couch, small chair, coffee table, lamp and two TV trays. Again Lois saved, pinching those pennies. The very first purchase of furniture she indulged for the new house was white Provençal-style bedroom furniture for Charlene, so that she could have her own space, her own grown-up bed.

She had three books in a stack and was staring at the first page of the first, not really absorbing the words. Instead she was thinking,
So, my father was a real screwup, but a fun guy. So he wasn't real reliable, but then it turns out we never relied on him anyway. So, just how messed up am I because of my father? Probably about as much as I want to be.

“Mrs. Dugan?”

She looked up into the frowning face of Elizabeth Nelson, the children's librarian. “We need you. Could you please come and do something about your mother.”

“Oh God,” she said, jumping to her feet. She ran, streaking through the library at breakneck speed, back
through periodicals, where she'd left Lois. The door was ajar and a young man was looking inside. Charlene pushed him aside, maybe roughly, but then she was stopped by what she saw. Her mother stood in the corner of the small study cubicle, slowly and rhythmically banging her head into the wall. Charlene was momentarily paralyzed. Then she recovered, took three long steps into the room and grasped her mother's shoulders. “Mom?” she said, stopping her and turning her around.

Long streaks of tears coursed down Lois's cheeks. She bit her lip and shook her head, a deep and horrible sadness so penetrating Charlene felt it in the pit of her stomach. “Mom, what is it?”

“Oh, Charlene,” she said shakily, her voice a hoarse whisper. “I don't know the
words.
”

“Oh, Mom,” she said, pulling her close and holding her. “Mom, it's okay. You'll know them later today. You'll see.”

Lois sobbed into Charlene's shoulder. “Do you know what it means if I can't read? Do you know what that means?”

“Mom, you're okay. It's a hiccup. The words will come back later today. Or tonight. They're not gone forever.”

“How do you know?” she asked.

Charlene brushed the tears from her mother's cheeks, first the right side, then the left. “Because when they're gone forever,” she whispered, “you won't even know they're missing.”

For a moment Lois just looked at her in confusion,
and slowly she began to recover. First the terrible grief left her eyes, then her lips relaxed. Then, remarkably, a half smile played on her lips and she let go a little huff of laughter. “Oh, what a comfort
you
are.”

Charlene smiled back. “Let's go home, okay?”

“Might as well. I'm done reading for the moment.”

“I'll bring the book,” Charlene said. “I'll mark the page and you can look at it later.”

“Eternal optimist.”

Lois walked out of the room ahead of Charlene. People had gathered outside, waiting to see who the kook was who had been banging her head. Lois lifted her chin and met their eyes with challenge, until one by one they turned away. It made Charlene feel, for the moment, so very proud of her mother's courage.

Charlene doubled back a couple of steps, popped the tape out of the still-running recorder and slipped it into her pocket.

 

It was the situation at the library that cautioned Charlene enough to suggest to her mother that they have some legal documentation in place before some unfortunate incident made it necessary. “Leave it to a lawyer,” Lois said.

“A power of attorney isn't really quite enough,” she explained. “That allows you and someone you appoint to take care of certain legal matters, like the sale of a house or the purchase of a vehicle. But if you appoint a conservator, you don't have to worry about legal and financial responsibilities. And if, in a forgetful moment, you make some sort of mistake—
like give your life savings to a charity—you'd be protected. Your conservator, your legal guardian, could get it back.”

“I'm not going downhill that fast, you know,” Lois pointed out.

“Of course not, and I can understand why a woman as independent as you wouldn't want to give up control. But what if a workman needs to be paid and you're a little…how should I put it—”

“In another mental zone?” Lois supplied.

“Okay,” Charlene agreed slowly.

“I'm not ready,” she said. “No legal papers yet. Workmen can wait. God knows they've kept me waiting often enough in my life.”

“Okay, there are two ways to do this. We can go to some family court judge together, fully understanding what's happening and making legal preparations before it's necessary. Or, I can go to court later and declare you incompetent. The latter is usually very uncomfortable for everyone.”

“Lois, as difficult as it is to think about, I think it's very prudent. Caution is the watchword here,” Jasper said.

“Then I'll make you my guardian,” she said to Jasper.

“Mother! Now that hurts!”

“Well, you and I don't agree on anything, especially how and where I should spend my time or money!”

“I'm not going to be anyone's guardian,” Jasper
said. “How about another family member? What about Stephanie?”

“Well now,” they both said. Both women erroneously thought Stephanie would be easy to control. Neither of them had been acquainted with the new, improved Stephanie.

She called Stephanie to ask if she could sneak away from school to meet them at the courthouse.

“I know this is short notice, but we need to see a judge in family court about a legal guardian for Peaches, in case she becomes incompetent. You know, for medical and financial decisions. A judge I'm close to, Judge Kemp, is going to squeeze a little time out of his schedule to meet with us. Peaches won't let me be the responsible party….”

Stephanie giggled. “Bet that really pissed you off,” she said.

“She's willing to let it be you. And I trust that you'll absolutely listen to my advice on any of these matters, especially with your grandmother's health and income at stake.”

“Whoa,” she said almost reverently. “Me?”

“Yes, you. Did you hear what I said? About listening to me?”

“Listen? Of course. I always
listen.
”

“And pay attention,” Charlene stressed.

“This must be sheer hell for a control freak like you,” Stephanie suggested.

“You are the serpent's tooth, for sure.”

So they were to meet outside of Judge Kemp's office, where Stephanie would, with a bit too much glee,
agree to be Peaches's working brain. Charlene decided it was rather fitting as they'd always sided against her anyway, made her their common enemy on issues like bedtime, curfews, dating and chores. Grandmothers and granddaughters, bonded for life by the simple tension between mothers and daughters.
I can't wait until she has a child,
Charlene found herself thinking.
I'm going to quit work, take over its life, spoil it rotten and overturn all her decisions.