Falling Apart at the Seams (Jimmy/Jacoby)

Good news all around, and thank heavens for that!

I was on holiday so I just got all caught up, I'm glad it was Jimmy who made the move over his memory loss, I could see that going badly had it been Jack or one of the girls that had mentioned it first. The fact that there's medication that can assist with the dementia is fantastic news, so long as it's okay with all Jim's other meds IU guess.

So Cilla and Randi are having another baby? That's lovely, I've pleased for them. This is quite the tribe now isn't it?!

That's the nice thing about writing so far in the future: I can play around with ideas =). I guess there is actually medication for dementia now, though I don't know how effective it is.

They are getting to be quite a brood! But J&J love their grandchildren =)

Yesterday also got away fro me, so I'll probably post two days in a row again. I have to get ready for work here in a few minutes and so will post after work tonight.

17

I certainly put on a brave face when we broke the news to the girls. Yes, my memory problems are getting worse and yes, it’s because of past problems. Of course, as Jacoby said, there’s also the ambulance accident I was in five years ago; I had a concussion from hell and for a while, we didn’t think it was going to clear. I still have some vertigo problems related to it, though they’ve lessened over the years. Either way, it wasn’t the news I wanted to hear when I went to the doctor, that’s for sure.

“You okay?”

I looked up as dad entered the kitchen, smiling at me. It was 0100 but I couldn’t sleep. My leg was aching inside the cast and it itched. On top of that, I just didn’t feel tired and it seemed better to come sit downstairs for a while rather than keep Jacoby awake.

“Just can’t sleep,” I told him, as he sat down. His water glass clunked a bit on the table and I filled it for him. He made a quick sandwich of crackers and cheese, then nodded. “And my leg was aching a bit. I hate having a cast.”

He nodded again, swallowing his food before responding. “I can see why. How much longer?”

I shrugged, assembling another sandwich; I’ve lost track of how many I’ve eaten. “If I’m lucky, about three months. I guess my bones aren’t as strong as they used to be, so it takes longer for a broken bone to heal now. The doctor said it’s just a side effect of aging, you know, all that garbage. So it should take four months all told to heal this up. The doctor out here thought I’d be on track for a 12 week healing time, or three months, but we’ll see. I just want it to be over.”

Dad smiled, making another sandwich. The grandfather clock in the hall chimed 0130 and we glanced at each other; that thing hasn’t worked since mom passed. Dad actually had mom’s friend stop it at the time of her death and no one has touched it since.

“Odd. I had that stopped and I haven’t wound it since your mom passed,” he muttered, looking a bit startled. “The kids know not to touch it and I know you guys didn’t wind it. Hrm. Guess I’ll have to look into it. But in any case, I understand about longer healing times as you get older, trust me. My hip healed in eight weeks; someone in their 30s would’ve been healed in five or six weeks. So I can understand that part of aging. It also wreaks havoc on the mind.”

I glanced at my dad, curious. Alzheimer’s and such does not run in the family, and mine is clearly related to substance abuse. Therefore, I wondered what he was on about; he can’t possibly understand how terrifying these memory problems are for me, can he?


“I don’t understand what you’re going through, but my mind isn’t as sharp as it used to be. I forget names or phone numbers, that sort of thing. The other day I forgot my cat’s name, for instance; both of them, actually. I’ll forget my address from time to time or my email password. It’s all a part of aging. I know that yours is more than that, of course, but in some ways, it’s the same. When I forgot the names of the cats, Clancy in particular seemed very offended. I tend to ramble more in my speech these days as well get off track. So while I realize that you’re going through a whole different beast than I, remember that I am here for you.”

Rambling is certainly a trademark of his later years…I’ve seen my future and it’s a big non sequiter. “I ramble on anyway,” I told him, and we both chuckled at that. “But I’ll admit to being a bit scared after this diagnosis, you know? We knew this was coming, of course, but it’s still scary.”

I coughed a bit, rubbing my chest; COPD doesn’t get any better with time, either. Though the new meds are slowing the progression, years after the diagnosis, I still struggle. Dad rubbed my back when I had a hard time catching my breath and I welcomed the gesture. My oxygen was in the hall closet, but I didn’t want to use it.

“Need your inhaler?” he asked and I nodded, still trying to catch my breath. Thankfully, my inhaler was down here with me tonight, and he reached for it, placing the spacer in my mouth. “Breathe it in, hon.”

I took the first hit, glad when it acted quickly. I mean, I have a nebulizer out here as well, but I never want to go to that step. I already take a treatment one before bed and one when I get up just to breathe during the day. I’m trying to hold off the around the clock oxygen the doctor wants me on for as long as possible.

“Thanks,” I said, after the second hit. I regained control of my breathing and sighed. “Sorry.”

“About what? You’ve got COPD and that’s expected to happen. Don’t apologize for being normal,” he told me and I had to hold off a loud laugh. “Well, as normal as you ever get.”

I nodded, grinning, as I re-filled my water. It’s going to be a long day if I don’t get some sleep, but I’m just not sleepy at all. I have these bouts of insomnia here and there and it gives my brain time to think, which can be good and bad.

“What’s on your mind?” dad asked and I sighed, as we put my inhaler aside, the crisis averted for now. “Moving?”

I nodded, rubbing my face. “Yeah. I waited the six months after mom passed and the urge did go away. But I don’t know, dad. I kind of still want to come back, you know? My health is going south a bit quicker than I planned and I’m actually considering retirement more seriously, you know? But I know Jack’s not ready to retire. He’s in a lot better shape than me, though, so he’s got more years of work left. I’m in the office more lately than I’m in the air because either my memory gets in the way or my breathing. Sean can’t risk me and I understand that. I know that Dr. Magnus really wants me to retire, but I don’t want to sit around home. There’s stuff to do, but still.”

Dad nodded, re-filling his water and making another sandwich. “I can understand that. When I finally retired from the church, I thought I was going to be bored. But your mom and I used that time to travel, to spend together, to work on the house. We were never bored, that’s for sure. In retirement, you’d be more open to travel to see the girls, for instance, and I know that means a lot to you. Right now, you’re still set on the schedule you established years ago: once a year for a month you get to come out here and see your family. But in retirement, you could come whenever you wanted. It’s a matter of finances, I know, but you’ve saved very well, from what you’ve told me.”

“We have,” I agreed, making another sandwich. I was getting full, so it’d be time to stop soon. “I mean, there have been some hiccups here and there, of course, in my bad times, but over all, we’re in a good spot. I still do the budget for us, but Jacoby helps a lot now. And I miss California. But I can’t imagine not living on the farm. There are no farms out here like what we have back home, dad. I’m conflicted and I don’t know what to do.”

He took my hand, rubbing it lightly. My hands were a bit more wrinkled these days, my skin thinner; some of that was the drug use, some of that was age and my profession. “In time, you’ll know what you want. Do you talk to Jacoby about these things?” I nodded. “That’s a good start, then. I can’t tell you what to do. I can tell that, if you want it, the house is yours upon my passing. If, at that time, you decide you want to stay in Iowa, it will continue down to Eliza, then Priscilla, and so on and so forth until someone is found for it. Depending on my age at passing, it might even get down to Corey or Ava. Corey is more likely, of course. I intend to be around for a good long while, but we can’t predict the future, can we? I wouldn’t worry too much, Jimmy, right now. I think you should listen to your doctors, though, about retirement. I can see just from tonight and your days here that your health is declining. When you’re relaxing like you are here, things are better; at home and work, there’s stress. You can always try it, you know. Save up some PTO when you get back, take two weeks off, play it like retirement and see how it goes.”

“That’s a good idea,” I agreed, yawning. Perhaps all that food was finally making me sleepy after all. “I might do that.”

I stood, tucking the crutches under my arms with a sigh. It’s going to be a long few months, isn’t it?

***

Our time in California seemed to be flying by, no matter how slow I attempted to make time go. Before I knew it, it was August 19th, and we were standing at mom’s grave again. It’d been one year now since her passing and I couldn’t believe how fast that year went. Dad was holding me on one side and Jacoby the other, partly because of emotions and partly because the ground was a bit uneven and I had a hard time on the crutches. In two days, it would be time to go home and I found I didn’t want to go back to Iowa.

“Jack, I don’t want to go back,” I said, once we were back in our rental. Yes, rentals are expensive, but it was easier than borrowing cars from people. Once dad was unable to drive, he sold his car, so there’s really no other option. “I mean to Iowa.”

He sighed, as he no doubt knew this was coming. Of course, we’d fight about it and then end up back on a plane bound for Iowa like always. This did not excite me or make me happy for once: I really did not want to go back home. I’ve always said that, of course, but once we’re back at the farm, I’m happy as could be; not this time. This time, I want to stay out here with dad and our girls and start our retirement life.

“I know, honey,” he said, gently, which surprised me. “But for now, we have to. Neither of us are ready to retire, you need to be home with your doctor for that leg and maybe, once we get this memory stuff of yours figured out, we can talk retirement. But we’re both in pretty good health and able to work and I don’t want to retire until I have to.”

I sighed, because I was more than ready to retire. In fact, Dr. Magnus was pushing for my retirement, considering my recent health problems. There’s no guarantee this medication will work for my memory, for instance, and while it seems to be working now, it’s not 100%; I’m still having problems, even if they are less than before the medication.

“I’m ready,” I told him, aware that dad as in the back seat. “I’m ready to retire and begin the second half of our lives. I can respect that you’re not, however, so we’ll go back. Just remember that I’m getting the paperwork together for retirement soon.”

He didn’t look as surprised as I’d expected he would. “That’s fine. I now the doctor has been suggesting it for a long time now. Just make sure it’s what you want, you know? Don’t just retire because the doctor said it was the right thing to do.”

And yet he’ll sit in the exam room and agree 100% that retirement is the right thing for me to do, I guarantee it. Shaking my head I chose against answering him and instead watched the streets and scenery of Huntington Beach pass me by. Part of me regrets leaving when I was a teenager, even if it led me to Jacoby and the best years of my life so far.

“Well, how do you guys wish to spend your last two days?” dad asked when the silence became unbearable. “We have time for the beach, of course, and other things.”

I shrugged, since I really had no answer for him. Truthfully, I wanted to spend it making the house ours so we never had to leave again, but that wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something,” Jacoby responded, as he pulled into the driveway. I was quick to exit the car, as I suddenly wanted to be alone. “You got your keys?”

I nodded, pulling them from my pocket before I hopped up the front steps. Once inside, I made a hasty retreat up the stairs and into our room, locking the door behind me. Today was emotional enough without the conversation in the car. Lying on the bed, I discarded the crutches and let the tears fall: I need my mother and I needed her right now.

***

I don’t know how long I was apparently asleep, but I woke when I heard movement in the room; I spotted Jacoby getting our laundry and things around, packing our suitcases. No doubt, this day did not hit him nearly as hard as it did me. Trying to seem as though I were still asleep, I rolled over, grateful for the pillow between my legs. It helped the cast not scrape up my other leg and it seemed to help with some low back discomfort I still have from my fall.

“I know you’re awake.”

Good for you, I thought, continuing my charade. I heard nothing further from my husband as he left the room, no doubt ready to have the packing over with; I just wanted to get back to Iowa so we could get back here faster. It needed to be next July already, but I didn’t seem to be getting my wish there.

“Meow.”

I haven’t spoken of them much, but Clancy and Abba have been in the background all this time. I know our cats are probably tired of being kenneled (it’s easier that way) and I’m ready to go see them. Of course, I want to just turn around and bring them back out here, but I suppose that won’t be an option.

“Hey Abba,” I said, still wondering what possessed mom to name the cat Abba of all things. I know she was a huge fan of the group, but still. “How’s it hanging?”

She brushed her head against my hand, clearly in need of affection. I was happy to pet her, scratching behind her ears, and listening to her purr. She’s got these impossibly blue eyes, and while Jacoby thinks I’m nuts, I think she’s Penny reincarnated. I think our cat Eleanor is her namesake reincarnated, too, and yes my husband thinks I’m nuts about that as well. Different strokes for different folks, I always tell him.

“How did the world get so unfair?” I asked Abba as she rolled over so I could rub her belly. “You should’ve been a dog.”

She bit my hand for that, gently, and I probably deserved it. I rubbed her belly then, laughing a bit when her feet tried to push my hand away and she playfully started to nip at me. We wrestled like this for quite a while before she finally got off my lap. I was nowhere near ready to get out of bed, so I rolled to my side, pulled the blanket up a bit and smiled as she snuggled into my side.

18

The nice thing about owning your own business (well, co-owning, I suppose, since Matt, Johnny, and Zach technically own the buildings and stuff) is that you can make your own cell phone policy. I’ve told the staff they can have them on themselves but it has to be out of sight and no use unless you’re not busy. That doesn’t mean spend the downtime on the phone, but I won’t say anything if you send a text or check your email or something.

It also means that, when my family calls me, I can usually take the call. I was just doodling, waiting for my two o’clock appointment when Jimmy’s ringtone sounded in the shop. Everyone understood when I went to my office to take the call, just in case something was wrong. He and dad had returned to Iowa just after grandma’s one year and we were into October now. He should be getting done with PT by now (he got his long cast off right after they got home and got a short cast off on October first), and I hoped he had a good report.

“Hey dad, what’s up?” I asked, settling into my office chair. My office was almost sound proof and I loved it that way. I had three lamps that put off the right amount of light and it created a very relaxed atmosphere in here.

“Liza?” he asked and I became concerned. He called me, didn’t he? Of course, he has mis-dialed before.

“Yeah, dad, it’s me. What’s up? Get a good report from physical therapy?” Might as well chat a minute to make it worth the call.

“Liza?” he asked again and I sensed something was wrong. “I-I don’t know where I am.”

Alarmed, I took a deep breath to calm myself down. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, and I thought I could hear wind; he must be outside. “I went for a walk, you know? But now I don’t remember how to get home. I don’t know where I am or how far I've walked.”

Shit. Dad has a route he takes because it’s easy to find his way back and with recent memory problems, that’s become even more important. Trying to figure out a way to help him, I decided to start with scenery.

“What’s around you?” I asked, hoping he wasn’t out in BFE.

There was a pause and I could picture him looking around, trying to describe the landscape to me. I almost asked him again when he finally answered.

“Trees. And fields. There’s a street sign…it says 270th.”

270th…that’s not far from Hollister and Randy. Reaching for my desk phone, I quickly dialed the long-ago memorized number, thankful when Randy answered.

“Hold on, dad,” I said, and covered the mouthpiece. “Randy? It’s Eliza. I've got Jimmy on my cell and he’s lost. He’s near 270th…can you see him?”

“Let me look,” our neighbor said, and I listened as his door swung closed. There was the slight crunch of gravel before he spoke again. “Yep. I’ll get him home.”

Relieved, I thanked him then hung up.

“Randy’s going to get you home, okay?” I asked, returning to dad.

“Okay. Who’s Randy? I thought she lived with you.”

Well, shit. “Your neighbor, dad, Randy McIntosh.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, someone’s pulling up in a black truck. Is that him?”

What the hell is wrong with my dad? “Yes, dad, that’s him. Is daddy home?”

“Who?”

Oh shit. I think a call to Jacoby might just be in order. I was about to respond when Randy came on the phone.

“He’s horribly confused, Liza. I’m going to get him home and if Jacoby’s not there, I’ll stay with him until he gets home.”

Worried, I bit my lower lip. “Thanks, Randy. I’ll call dad and see what’s going on. Maybe he forgot his medication today. Thanks for your help.”

Hanging up, I looked around my office, set with family photos galore. I’d had a friend paint a colorful mural on the wall, depicting animals, shapes, and bits of poetry here and there. On one wall was a song Jimmy wrote back in high school, before the drugs got to him. I have a piano in here and sometimes, I sit down and play that tune from memory.

I gravitated to my piano now, after placing a do not disturb sign on my door; Star will take care of my client, as we sometimes switch back and forth anyway. Sitting on the black lacquered bench, I placed my long, thin fingers over the ivory keys and closed my eyes. Seeing the notes in my head, I started to play, hoping to calm my shaking, slightly shattered mind.

***

“He was really, really confused. It scared the hell out of me.”

In order to calm down, I put off calling Jacoby until I got off work. Matt stopped by to pick up my inventory list and noticed how out of place I seemed, slumped over my piano. Now he had folded his long, beefy frame into a chair nearby and listened as I told him my concerns.

“I know this medication is not a given,” I started, and he nodded, clipping his aviators onto his shirt collar. “But it was working while they were out here. He was actually pretty clear-headed for a while. But now that they’re back…things are changing and I don’t know why. I haven’t called Jacoby yet, but it scared me, Matt. He was so confused and he forgot who his neighbor Randy was. They are best friends and he fucking forgot who he was!”

Matt’s hand squeezed my shoulder gently before he pulled me into a hug. It’s hard to watch my dad, who used to be so strong, go downhill like this. This shit doesn’t even run in the family; I asked grandpa and he assured me it’s not genetic. I’m just so scared that I don’t know what to do.

“He’s going downhill, Matt, isn’t he?”

My uncle was quiet for a moment, as I tried not to become emotional. “Yeah, I think he is. But hopefully they can get his meds worked around and he can regain control. That’s the problem with his kind of dementia: it’s caused by prior damage to the brain and it’s going to be harder to maintain control of the progression of the disease. But there are some amazing memory specialists in Omaha and I’m sure your dad will only see the best. In time, there will be an answer.”

I nodded, taking in a shaky breath. “But that does nothing for today. He wasn’t my dad, Matt; he was a different person. I didn’t recognize him on the phone, I really didn’t. I thought maybe he’d called me by accident, but it seemed he didn’t know who else to call. I don’t want him to end up in a care home.”

Matt hugged me tight for a moment, then smiled. “I don’t think that’s going to happen for a long time, hon, I really don’t. Jacoby is close to retiring and he’ll take care of your dad as long as he can. Only when he can’t handle it anymore will your dad go to a care center. Just be sure to keep updated on what’s going on out there.”

I nodded, standing and returning to my bench. “I wish they’d move out here, Matt. I know they have the farm and all, and I would miss going home, but we’d all be together out here. That way, if something happened, I’m right here to help.”

Leaning back, Matt crossed his legs, dangling one black loafer from his left foot. “But what if your dad got lost out here? Out there, in Iowa on the gravel, he’s in very little danger of getting run over. The growth of Omaha has not come close to Mondamin and the gravel; therefore, a neighbor will see him and help him. If he got lost out here, he might wander into traffic or something and get hit by a car. Can you imagine that? I know you want your family closer, trust me, I do too; but for your dad, it might not be practical.”

I guess I hadn’t considered that, really. But still…”He’d have more helpers out here for starters,” I argued, looking at my uncle as I tucked my feet under me. “I mean, Jacoby is going to need respite when things get worse; he can have that here. Grandpa can help, you guys are here, me and Priscilla and our spouses; there’s a million of us out here to help. I know they have friends in Iowa, but here they’d have family.”

I could see Matt was gathering his thoughts carefully before he spoke; it means he disagrees with me and I won’t like it. “It’s not that easy, though, Liza. If these memory problems do, indeed, get worse, then he might not be able to adapt to the change in environment. If things get worse than they are now, a sudden change could be devastating. He knows the area he’s in now and that’s to his advantage. Now,” he continued, as I opened my mouth to protest. “I know today is the exception there. But it’s important for him to be in a familiar environment for as long as possible. Moving him here, where the environment is not as familiar might work against him. True, he’d have a large network of helpers here, family included. But in Iowa, they have a network of people who’ve been there for years; years longer than any of us. That means that Jimmy is more likely to accept help from, for instance, Hollister or Sean than one of us. Now, over time, he might become comfortable with us; but he’s lived in Iowa for over forty years and moving out here at this time in his life could potentially work against him.”

He’s right, I don’t like it. I was careful responding, as I thought over what he’d said; I might not like it, but he is right. “Well…I don’t like what you said, but I can’t disagree, I guess. I mean, I don’t want to throw my dad into turmoil. But it just sucks that he’s out there and I’m out here. I’m not leaving California; I love it here and I can’t see myself moving home. But if it was to care for dad, I could make it work, moving back. I just don’t want him to think he’s alone, you know? He has problems with abandonment from time to time, and I can see that getting worse.”

Matt nodded, unfolding his legs. “But, don’t count them out, either. If they were to make all their big changes now, things might be fine. But I wouldn’t call Jacoby and start asking when they’re moving; give them time to decide what to do. It’s a big undertaking to retire, especially knowing that you’ve got a spouse at home that’s going to need a lot of additional care.”

“I can’t disagree with that,” I said, as my phone rang. “Hang on.”

Matt stood, stretching. “I’ll let you talk in peace. Have a good night, Liza,” he said, hugging me one last time before taking the inventory and smiling. “Tell Jacoby I said hi.”

“Matt says hi, dad,” I said, waving my uncle out the door. “What’s up?”

He sighed and I knew I was in for a long phone call. “I just got home from work; Randy’s here with your dad and he’s a mess.”

I nodded, sighing. “Randy or dad?”

“Your dad. I know he took his meds this morning, because he got up with me. He was into work for a little bit to finish some paperwork before starting his two days off. So he had all of his morning meds. I get to call Dr. Magnus in the morning and tell him the dose has stopped working. I knew we’d need to make some adjustments to it, but I hadn’t expected to be playing with it this soon.”

“Well, it does take time, right, to get the right dose?” I asked, mostly fishing for a positive answer in this crisis.

“Yeah, it does, but it seemed we’d gotten it on the first try this time. Now, I’ve got a confused husband, a frantic neighbor and stress levels that are through the roof. Just when I think I’ve got your dad calmed down and together, he forgets everything I’ve told him.”

There was little I could tell my dad, honestly. I mean, I’m not there so I’m not going to be much help. “I wish I was out there to help, dad.”

There was a pause before he spoke. I could imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know, honey, I know. But you guys have your lives out there and that’s where you need to be. We’ll be okay, just like we always are.”

“I know, dad. Just keep us updated, okay? I’ve got some vacation time coming if I need it.”

“I appreciate it, honey. I better go, so Randy can get home. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” I said, and hung up.

Somehow, those two words meant more now than they ever have.

***

Did you think this medication was perfect from the start? Of course, it was possible, but it's not often something like this is right on the first try. Should Eliza push her folks to move? Or is Matt right?

That phone call from Jim broke my heart!

I had thought that the medication was doing what it was meant to and that he was doing well, that was so unexpected.

I think Matt is right though, I don't think moving to a huge city would be good for Jimmy if episodes like this are going to continue.

The problem for me is that I can see both points of view. I can see where Matt's coming from, and agree that, to an extent he's right; but I think Eliza's right, too. It's a tough spot for me, as the writer, to be in: what's right versus what's "safe". These guys have a LOT of thinking to do!

19

“Don’t you trust me?”

Oh, I hate that question. It’s one I thought I was done answering once Jimmy was clean and sober for good. Instead, we’re back to square one, but for different reasons; after the other day, the answer is more difficult. I do trust him, but I have to be careful now because if he has another spell he could burn the house down.

“I do trust you, Jimmy. But until we get the medication reconfigured, I just have to be careful, that’s all. So, until we’re sure the medication is working again and that you won’t get lost again, I need someone to stay with you on your days off.”

Randy was standing in the kitchen early in the morning, as Jimmy sat at the table, looking downright depressed. It was hard for to admit that he needed someone to stay with him, but he did; I couldn’t risk something happening to him while I’m at work.

“I’ve got to go, okay? But we’ll talk tonight and let me know how your appointment goes,” I said, as I finished lacing up my work boots. I kissed my husband and then started for the door. As I left, I sighed; Jimmy needed help, but I wasn’t sure what kind.

***

“You seem distracted,” Sean remarked, as we stood around the nurse’s station. Today was so slow I thought perhaps the clock had stopped. “What’s up?”

I sighed, running a hand over my face. “It’s Jimmy, of course. He had a memory incident yesterday. He called Eliza because he got lost on his walk and couldn’t remember where he was or how to get home. Randy rescued him and I talked to him when I got home. I guess it took about an hour before Jimmy came around and was okay, but the entire night was hit and miss with his memory. The medication wasn’t a guarantee by any means but we’d hoped to get more than a few months out of it. He goes back to the doctor today, with Randy, to see what they can do about this. But if this doesn’t work, there’s not much more we can do. I’m losing him, Sean.”

It’s not that I’m embarrassed of my emotions in front of my co-workers, after all these years, but it’s that I still don’t like crying in front of them. Sean understood, of course, and pulled me into his office, the unspoken deal that I’d be in the ER for the next few runs understood between my team members.

He rubbed my back giving me time to grieve that which I had yet to fully lose. Sean and his husband were good, no major health problems, and their daughter was married. My kids were well but my husband was not and I didn’t know what to do.

“It reminds me of when we first met and started dating, you know? He’d be so in and out on me, sometimes I didn’t know if he was alive or dead. His memory would fizzle out on him from all the drugs and alcohol but I always got him back. Now, the memory loss is becoming permanent, you know? He’s been diagnosed with dementia related to substance abuse; the irony is that he’s already stopped abusing the substances. Now, we have to work with memory specialists to see if we can slow the progress of the damage. But if we can’t, he’ll need specialized care in a few months. I don’t want to put him in a care home, Sean; what kind of husband would I be? He wants to retire to California and I want to make the happen. But I can’t if he’s in a damn care home.”

Sean nodded, used to the ranting. We’d all been in his office from time to time ranting and raving about life; he once had a fake psychology diploma hung on his wall. I sighed, wiping my eyes, wishing there were easy answers to these problems.

“Why not make that dream happen, then, before he gets worse? I know that, if things get really, really bad, it’ll be a care home out there, but he’d be home. I know you guys have fought and fought about California, but now that retirement looms and his health is getting worse, maybe it’d be for the best.”

I sighed, looking my boss in the eye. We’d been best friends for years and I knew I could trust him. “There’s just one problem with this, Sean, and it’s going to break his heart: I’m not ready to retire. I think Dr. Magnus will insist that he retire now, while he still can. I don’t want him to make a fatal mistake on the job, Sean, you know that. But if he retires, he’ll be waiting on me and I’m not ready. Sure I’m not the young guy I used to be, but I can still do the job. I can still lift and run and make quick decisions. But Jimmy’s going downhill quick. His breathing keeps him from doing the medical portion of things anymore and his memory will keep him from the chopper. Even his desk job is in danger with his memory problems. I don’t know what to do without breaking his heart.”

“I know, Coby. But this is where you to weigh what’s good for you versus what’s good for him. If his health and memory would improve in California, maybe it’s time to consider going. I know you’re not ready to retire, but if going to California would make him happy, isn’t it time to think about what Jimmy wants? I’m not trying to be mean, Jacoby, but you guys have stayed here because you wanted to. Jimmy’s been fantastic in his jobs and I know that he’s had a good run. But for 44 years you guys have been in Iowa and he’s been miserable. He’s been wanting to go home for a long time, Jack, maybe it’s time to give in to him.”

I looked at Sean, thinking about what he’d said. Really, if I’m honest, I’ve been a kind of selfish bastard haven’t I? But I did what I thought was best for him, because he could barely function.

“I just did what I thought was best for us all these years,” I told Sean and he nodded. “I mean, in the beginning, he couldn’t even function without me. Then, as he got better, he didn’t always make the right choices. And frankly the one time he did go to California was a disaster. But we have a life here, Sean. We’re settled, the farm is paid for, and won’t it make his memory problems worse? I mean, at least here, he knows where he is.”

“That might help, but it might not,” my boss said and I furrowed my brow; what did he mean? “My mom had Alzheimer’s/Dementia. We eventually had to move her into assisted living because she was a danger to herself in her home. She functioned much better in assisted living, which we hadn’t expected. She did better because she had all kinds of helpers. The things that were a problem for her at home, like cooking, were no longer a problem. Her brain was able to sort of take a break. The place we sent her was set up for the different stages of dementia and was set for her care. She still went downhill slowly and eventually passed on because of complications from the disease; but she did better outside of her familiar environment for many years. Now, that’s not always going to happen, but you said yourself that Jimmy did well while you guys were out there.”

I nodded, rubbing my face. “He did, but he had his moments, too. I don’t know if, in the end, it will matter where he is. But if California would make him happy, maybe we could go back; I just think Iowa is where we’re happy. I mean, we go out there and think ‘yeah, we want to come home’ and then we get homesick at the end of the month and can’t wait to get back to our farm. I’m not going to sell a paid-for farm to move to California only to end up moving back. I mean, I suppose we could rent it out for a few months, make sure it’s what we want, but if it’s not, that renter has to move and that’s not right. Oh Sean, I don’t know what to do.”

He took my hand for a moment and squeezed it. “I think you should go to Jimmy’s appointment and see what the doctor says; then, you should worry about California.”

We stood and my boss embraced me, which I welcomed. Feeling anything but calm, I glanced at the clock and decided to make my way over to the doctor’s office; it was a bit of a walk, after all. With my hand on the knob, I turned to Sean.

“Thanks.”

He nodded, the weight of my message received as I left the room, hoping the doctor had good news.

***

Well, the news from the doctor is kind of mixed.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” the doctor told us, as Randy, Jimmy, and myself sat in the exam room. “I’m going to increase your dosage for this medication. If it works, I’ll allow you back to work in one week. So, in one week, you come back to see me. If it’s working, you go back to work. After that, you see me every three weeks for a checkup. You both keep a journal and every good report means you stay working. A bad report means you sign the retirement paperwork here in my office and hang up your wings.”

I could see the hurt and indecision on Jimmy’s face; he knew what this meant. He was coherent today and he had his wits about him. I know how much his job means to him; it’s what kept him going through rehab and it’s why he went to rehab in the first place. Now, that job is in jeopardy all because of his memory problems.

“Okay. But if we get one bad report, is there a second chance?” he asked, wringing his hands; it’s an old nervous habit I thought was gone.

Dr. Magnus took his time answering, his wrinkled face set in concentration. He’s still a few years younger than us, but the stress of his job shows on his face, as it does on ours.

“We’ll talk about that. But this medication caps out at 20mg, Jimmy; I can’t go higher. If you reach 20mg, that’s the end of the line. A bad report at your new dosage of 10mg means the medication isn’t working and I can only go one dosage higher. So, we’ll have to see, but don’t get your hopes up.”

He nodded, hanging his head; this is hard on all of us. “Thanks. Uhm, if I get worse, then what?”

The doctor leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know. It would depend on how bad you got. Of course, the worse you get, the fewer options we have. You may end up in memory care or some other type of facility. Or, you might be able to get by living at home as long as someone is there with you. Every person with your type of dementia is different.”

My husband glanced at me nervously. “Well, Jacoby’s not ready to retire yet, that’s all. I don’t want him to quit working just to take care of me. If I get so bad I can’t be at home, a facility is fine, but what options do we have for homecare?”

Jimmy’s always putting everyone else before him and I think I’ve taken advantage of that far too much over the years. I was going to offer my opinion when the doctor beat me to it.

“Well, you’d have a home healthcare option, or friends, of course. But we won’t know the best options until that time comes. Hopefully, with medication, we can hold off that time for a while.”

Nodding, my husband sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He looked old today and I felt for him; stress is not kind to him. When the silence stretched on, the doctor logged out of the computer and handed Jimmy some pamphlets.

“Read these over with Jacoby, okay? They explain the medication more in-depth and the other is for caring for dementia at home. Any questions?”

I shook my head, as did Jimmy and we all stood. I shook the doctor’s hand, then followed him out to make the follow up appointment. If we get good news in one week, I will be relieved. Jimmy deserves a chance to return to work and I know life will be hell if he can’t get back.

***

Jimmy did well on the new dosage. It used to take weeks almost months before the full effects of a higher dosage could be known; now it happens in as little as a few days. It’s one of those advancements medicine has made and it’s welcome. In a couple of days, I saw a difference in Jimmy; his eyes were bright, the confusion was gone and I was able to leave him home alone, which pleased him greatly, of course. Work went well, too, and for that I was glad; work keeps him grounded, you know?

His checkup went just as we hoped after the first three weeks and he gained another three weeks of work. And so far, this dosage is holding up as we had hoped. Six weeks went by and not a single problem, but as I’m sure you know, my husband just can’t win. His nine week appointment was great; his journal entries and mine match and he’s doing fine. In some ways, though, I should’ve seen this incident coming…I guess I just didn’t expect it after all this time.

“Code blue, ER #3, code blue ER #3,” the upstairs switchboard intoned and I watched as the ER sprang into action. One of our nurses had called in sick, so Jimmy offered to help out.

“Jimmy’s in his element now,” Racheal on dispatch observed, as her console sounded. She took notes and then sounded the signal for one of the ambulance teams to get moving. It wasn’t mine, since we’d just come in and I waved Hollister and Tony out the door. “He should be a nurse more often; I think he really enjoys it.”

I nodded, smiling. “He does. He loves all of his jobs but nursing right now is his favorite.”

I waited to see how the code would resolve, as I finished my paperwork from this last run. I’d brought in an elderly woman who was having heart problems and she was the code. I hoped she’d pull through, but she was 91 and it didn’t look—

“Shit,” I muttered, running for #3. Jimmy should have his wits about him, but there were no guarantees in this situation and I was ready to pull him out.

“Get him to his office now,” a stern voice intoned and I saw Sean coming with Jimmy. He had tears running down his face and I took over, moving him into his office fast as we could go.

“Jimmy, what’s wrong?” I asked, as he sat in his desk chair. Sean and I took seats nearby, completely puzzled.

“I couldn’t save her!” he shouted and dissolved into tears.

20

I sighed as I spoke to Jacoby on the phone. Apparently, dad had an episode in the ER a couple of days ago and things are influx right now.

“So what happens now?” I asked, twirling the glass of wine in my hand. Randi and I were getting ready for a date night while Zach and Gena offered to watch Ava overnight. Their newest grandchild had recently been born and apparently, things were going better this time around.

“We don’t know,” dad admitted, sighing. I could imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose, as he does in times of high stress. “He’s apologized a thousand times to everyone involved, especially to Sean. No one is blaming him, everyone forgives him, but he’s still distraught. Dr. Magnus is on the fence about letting him keep working, understanding that he just had a moment. But if he has one moment, it could lead to others, etc. So now the question is, is he stable enough to keep working? Or, should he be allowed near patients? Sean is working with us and the doctor to come up with the answers, but there’s nothing easy about it.”

I can’t imagine my dad not working…and while he loves to garden, I think he’ll go bonkers in the winter, which is fast approaching, as we’re already into fall. Shaking my head, I looked out over the ocean, as the deck door opened and Randi stepped out.

“Well, keep me updated, dad. I don’t know what the answer is, either, but there has to be one. I’d hate to see him forced to retire after only one incident.”

“I will. I love you and you go have fun on your date night.”

Smiling, I returned the sentiment and hung up. “Oh shit.”

Setting into a white chair across from me, Randi cocked her head to the side in askance. “What’s up?”

“Dad,” I said and she nodded, taking my hand and gently kissing it. “He had an episode during a code. It was basically a meltdown all because the woman was grandma’s age and she coded and died. It took a while to get him calmed down, too, I guess, but now he’s okay. The problem is that this might lead to other incidents, of course. Now, they have to decide if he’s stable enough for work and if so, if he should be allowed around patients or not. Dad’s going to keep us updated, but it’s not looking good for Jimmy.”

She nodded, her face drawn into a deep frown. Jimmy had been a big help to her when I went through my addiction phase and she sees both my parents as fathers, since hers died when she was very young. I stood and we embraced for a moment, something I found myself in desperate need of.

“Until we know more, it’s no good dwelling on things, even though it’s what you want to do,” she reminded me, as I dried my eyes. “So, let’s get to our date night and the second your dad calls with more information, we’ll talk it over.”

“I love you,” I told her, kissing her briefly. “Now, let’s get to our fun.”

***

When a week went by with no news on Jimmy, I thought maybe things were okay, but Jacoby finally called with the update. So far, emails from home had been guarded (I can tell by how Jacoby types), and just when I thought about calling they call.

“Well, your dad saw Dr. Magnus again for a follow up,” he started and I waited. “It was decided that he can resume working, but someone will keep an eye on him. Any time they think he’s going to have a meltdown or be too close to a situation, he gets reassigned to something more benign.”

“That’s fair,” I agreed, switching ears. “What did dad have to say?”

He sighed and I sensed that dad was not happy. “He agreed to it, but he wasn’t happy. He was really confused again this morning, too, so Randy spent the day with him. He forgot to turn off a burner the other night and luckily I caught it before anything happened. He’s getting worse, but the medication counters most of it. The doctor has taken him down to every two week visits now and the rules are stricter. I’m afraid I’m going to lose your dad, honey.”

I wished I was home right now to help out, because I could hear how upset my dad was. He and dad have had their ups and downs, hard times and good times, but I think this was going to be the hardest of all. And my father had to make all of the decisions about care for my dad now, because dad might not be able to make them for himself.

“He’s got time, dad,” I assured him, familiar with the progression of dementia. “I’ve cared for many dementia patients and this progresses differently for everyone. I know that dad’s is progressing a bit quickly, but you said yourself that the medication is working. It sounds like you have a great support team up there as well. I wish I could be there to help, dad, I really do. What happens from here on out?”

There was a pause and I imagine he shrugged; it’s how he does things. “We don’t know. There’s going to be a lot of talking, a lot of doctor visits, etc. We’re trying to get some answers.”

I nodded (it runs in the family), and then I thought of something. “Dad, has anyone checked his sats?”

“Why would we? He’s breathing just fine. He’s not even on oxygen right now, except at night sometimes when sleeps. So why would his COPD factor into this?”

I resisted the urge to growl in frustration at my father; he’s only being a spouse and not concerned with his medical knowledge. “Think about it dad: is he desatting during activity? Do these episodes seem worse with activity? I’m not denying that there’s probably some dementia going on here, but maybe he should be on oxygen more often just to see if these episodes of dementia decrease a bit.”

I could hear Jacoby muttering to himself, and I hoped he was arriving at the same conclusion I was. “I’ll talk to the doctor, okay? I guess in all of the excitement, his COPD got put on the backburner; it’s been under control, after all.”

“Well, it never hurts to ask. Just keep us updated, okay?” I asked, and he said he would. “Love you, dad, and tell dad I love him, too. I need to get Ava from school.”

With that, we hung up, but I was worried. If my theory isn’t correct, and it may not be, that means this is more serious than I thought. But if I’m right, it might mean his progression can be slowed, just a bit. I realize this is, ultimately, a losing battle, but maybe we can at least provide him some help in this matter.

Shaking my head, I went inside and grabbed my keys; Ava would be waiting. I had hoped she’d have many happy years with both grandparents, as I have had the pleasure of having, but it now appears that she’ll miss out on time with Jimmy. I had hoped that would not be the case, but if I’m wrong about how the COPD is affecting him, then this really is a quickly progressing case of dementia. In that case, there’s little we can do than hope that the medication works for a long time.

Of course, if it doesn’t, that means I’m going to lose my dad sooner than I thought. I think we all knew this was bound to happen; he’s had memory problems for years. But they were always minor, you know? He’d forget to shower once in a while, or forget that he’d eaten. Sometimes, he’d forget us at school or something. But we were always able to adapt and find ways to help him remember. People would visit and have no idea that there were little things all over the house to remind dad to shower or that he’d eaten or whatever. We kept a calendar updated with work, events, etc., to help him. Now, none of that seemed to matter because dad could get lost just driving home from work.

With a sigh, I got the car started up. It was still warm out here, even for October and I welcomed it. They’d had a cold snap in Iowa recently and I heard it’d gotten frosty quite early. I loved California too much to ever leave, that’s for sure. Marg was coming out to visit here soon, around Thanksgiving, and I was looking forward to it. I think we’re hosting Christmas this year as well, so dad and Jimmy already plan to be here. I love having family together, but I feel like this might just be our last Christmas with dad for some reason.

***

Before I knew it, Thanksgiving was here. Marg had flown out to spend time with us until the New Year, as the baby we were adopting was due any day now. We were in constant contact with the birth mother, had been to her appointments, but didn’t know the gender; it was more fun to find out later. The nursery was done, ready to go in a pirate theme, and all it needed now was our youngest child. The mother was due on November 29th, but the doctor said she could go any time before with no complications.

“Is the baby here yet?” Ava asked on Thanksgiving morning. I was just putting the turkey in as my daughter sat at the table eating cereal. We were the first ones awake this morning, and it looked like it was going to be rainy and cold.

“Not yet, honey, but soon. We have about four days to wait.”

She sighed dramatically and I laughed. While Randi and I were certainly excited for the new baby, Ava seemed to be the most excited. We’ve explained to her what having a baby around means, but she doesn’t seem to care. She’s in kindergarten now and even wants to bring the baby for show and tell; I told her we’d see about that when the baby was a bit older.

“Get the turkey in?” a sleepy voice asked and I smiled, turning to greet Randi. Marg was right behind her, but I kissed my wife anyway; her mom doesn’t care.

“I did,” I said, nodding. Ava ran for her mother and grandmother and hugged them both tightly. “Ava, if you’re finished, please put your dishes in the sink.”

I flinched when the glass bowl hit the stainless steel sink, but as usual, it didn’t break. I don’t know how much longer that bowl is going to hold up, but we’ll deal with it when she finally breaks it. Laughing, I watched her run upstairs, as Randi yelled at her to be sure to get dressed and brush her teeth.

“I’ll go supervise,” I said, still laughing. I’d already eaten, and this would give my wife and mother-in-law a few more minutes to relax before we had to start serious meal prep. Grandpa was coming over, as were various friends and local family, so we needed to get moving. “Ava, be sure to put on the outfit I have out for you, honey.”

Thankfully, today she did not put up a fuss about anything. She brushed her teeth, wore the outfit I’d picked and let me do her hair; I think it’s the excitement of having company. Her classroom had also adopted a couple of families with nowhere to go and we were having one of those families over soon. I think she’s becoming friends with their daughter and it would be nice for her to have a playmate her age.

“We’re here!” Eliza called from the doorway fifteen minutes later. Food prep was in full swing, but the extra help would be great. “Kids, go play. Corey, take your sister.”

“Do I have to?” he whined, and I smiled as he held Marianna’s little hand. She was fourteen months now and a ball of energy that kept everyone busy.

“No arguing. Take her to the playroom and watch her,” Clayton said sternly. Corey nodded, moving off with his sister in tow. He was eleven now and thought he was exempt from watching his little sister. “Kids, I swear. Rhi, go play.”

Rhiannon had turned six recently and developed a very introverted personality. She wanted to be close to the adults and that was it. Eliza was worried about her, but I said to give her time. Noting that she did not want to go play, I kneeled down to her level.

“Do you want to go play?” she shook her head no. “Do you want to help in the kitchen or sit at the table and color?”

“I want to color,” she whispered and I nodded, taking her to the table. I know her folks think forced play will help, but it won’t, as I’ve told them many times. “Thanks.”

While she was settled in with crayons, markers, and plenty of paper, stickers, and foamies, I returned to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. I wish my parents could be here, or us there, but we had Christmas to look forward to. Both were still working, but Jimmy’s problems were worsening. No retirement dates had been set yet, but Jacoby was thinking he could do better staying home with dad. Jacoby has said they won’t make any rash decisions, but I have a feeling their working days are ending soon.

“Worried about dad?” Eliza asked, as I stirred the stuffing together. I nodded, sighing. “Me, too. But things haven’t been so bad of late, dad told me. I mean, he’s had some episodes, but nothing like he was having there for a while. The medication seems to be working for now, so we have to focus on that, okay? They’ll be here the week before Christmas and stay through New Years, so we’ll see for ourselves how things are going.”

“I know,” I agreed, sighing. “But I just feel like things are spiraling out of control more quickly than we can handle, you know? I don’t want to lose him to dementia.”

Eliza took me out onto the back deck and then hugged me tight. We haven’t always gotten along over the years but that was all in the past now. I couldn’t help how I felt, because while I was a terrible kid and a worse adult for a while, I still loved my parents. Jimmy got me through the hell I went through and finally made me see reason; I owed him a lot.

“I know. I don’t want to lose him to this disease either, Cilla. But it looks like we don’t get a choice. This disease is going to claim him at some point, and no medication will be able to stop it. Right now, the medication is working, but it’s not guaranteed to keep working. We should be glad for whatever time we have now with him, remember that. I know it sucks that they’re out there and we’re out here, but we have to work with that.”

I nodded, wiping my eyes for a moment. Jimmy is overly emotional and so am I, and Eliza knows that. “I know. And I will appreciate the time we have. We’re on Skype more now than ever before, just so I don’t miss anything, but I still wish they’d move here. They know we don’t want to go back, that we’re happy here with our families. But I feel guilty for that, sometimes.”

Eliza held me tighter for a moment before shaking her head. “No, don’t feel guilty. They don’t expect us to move home for the exact reasons you mentioned. We’re happy here, we’re settled, we’re not leaving; they know that. So, we’ll make the most of the time we have, okay?”

I nodded, taking a deep breath, before we returned inside. This disease sucks, and I wish there was a cure for it. Science is close, but many, many more people will be lost before they cure it. I just hoped that my dad wouldn’t be one of them. I don’t think I’m going to get my wish.

Such a shame that the medication has failed Jimmy. Looks like Coby is thinking about the move to Cali more seriously now, He can still work out there maybe, for a few years till he retires. Must be so hard to see someone you love going through something like this.

From this chapter on to where I am now (around chap. 30), it's been interesting to write. Because it's set so far in the future, of course, I can kind of wing it with some things. I think you'll see in the chapters from here on out how the family kind of works together with the doctors on this (which is rare in our current times...doctors someones brush off families when they offer suggestions) and work to find something that works for Jimmy.

New chapter sometime today!

21

Is Mibba working for you? It's slower than a snail for me and won't load correctly =(.

***

I think everyone wakes up in the morning with cobwebs in their brain; I am no exception. Today, though, the cobwebs were quickly cleared by a glance at the calendar: Jimmy: Dr. Magnus 1000. Today was a significant day for me and my bi-weekly visits to the doctor; today determined once and for all if I was going to continue working. Things have been going better of late, but I’m having more episodes of forgetfulness and things might be coming to that point. Sean’s already handpicked my predecessor and I’ve been training him the last couple of weeks.

I know, how can I train someone if I’m having memory problems. Well, memory problems are tricky things, you see. I can do my job no problem; I remember everything I’m supposed to do. Ask me if I ate that day or what I had and forget it. I get lost out walking or driving, but I can do my job like nobody’s business. The doctor surmises that the portions of my brain affected thus far aren’t the parts needed to work and that’s what makes it difficult to determine if I should or not be pulled from work. But the problems outside of work could, at any moment, translate to problems at work, and I suppose that’s what will make his decision.

“You showered yet?” Jacoby asked, coming out of the bathroom. I was so nervous about this appointment that I couldn’t even get excited about my wet, naked husband.

“No,” I answered, glancing at the door frame to the bathroom. There’s a little green triangle in the bathroom and if it’s on the frame, it means I showered; no triangle, no shower. “No triangle, no shower. I’ll get cleaned up now, I guess.”

He nodded, as I stripped off and headed in to shower. I know you’re all wondering when the triangle system popped up, since I haven’t ever talked about it. We used it when I was first recovering because my brain was so fried from drugs, I couldn’t remember a damn thing. But, as happens, I got better, so the system faded out. In the last six months or so, though, it’s made a return. It makes me sad, but it is what it is.

It seemed to take no time after my shower before we were in the doctor’s exam office. I was nervous; Jacoby had the reporting binder we were using so that the doctor knew what had happened between visits, and I knew there were some questionable days in there. Randy seemed to be staying a bit more of late, and while he’s a great friend, I didn’t like the reasons he had for staying with me.

“It’ll be okay,” Jack assured me, but I wasn’t feeling it. Sean’s prepared and Kelsey is ready to go whenever, but I still worry. “We’ll roll with whatever he says.”

I nodded, looking out the small window in the room. October was gloomy of late, and even the approach of Halloween could not cheer me up. My girls love Halloween and their kids are no exception. But it’s not as much fun as it used to be because no one comes out here anymore (our friends have grandkids, but most live out of state) and who will see me dressed up? So, we don’t do much anymore, which makes me sad.

“Good morning, Jimmy.”

I looked up to see Dr. Magnus entering the room. He always looks neutral which I never like; does he have good news or bad news? I’d had an MRI prior to my visit, since that will help track the progress of this disease, and I wondered what it said.

“I’ll go over your journal first and then we’ll get to the MRI,” he began, gesturing for the thick white binder. Keeping track of my every moment in two week increments meant it was growing quickly. “How has your cognitive function been? I notice at our visits that so far, it’s been good, which makes the dementia diagnosis a bit tougher to make. You remember that we’re still working on your diagnosis, right?”

I nodded, though I was certain he’d already made up his mind. I waited to see where we would go from here, hoping it was good news.

“So, cognitive function. How are you doing as far as retention, learning, etc.?” he asked and I shrugged.

“I think I’m doing okay, but I don’t always notice the problems like Jacoby does.”

My husband nodded, crossing his legs. “I have noticed some problems here and there lately. You seem more at a loss for words; don’t always remember what I’ve told you. But for some reason, work has been no problem.”

“That’s good. Now, Jimmy, I’m going to ask you to remember three things. When it’s appropriate, I’ll ask you what they are. Ready?”

I nodded, accustomed to this part of the test; I’d never flunked. “I’m ready.”

“Scalpel, rain, eraser.”

I nodded, silently going over the words in my mind. I wasn’t going to flunk this time, either. I knew there were a few other tests to come, and I intended to pass those with flying colors as well. Smiling at Jacoby, I sat back, going over my words, while the doctor went over the binder. With luck, I’ll still be working in the morning.

***

Well, I passed all of the tests with flying colors as predicted. The doctor has taken away the dementia angle for now, which is a blessing, trust me. He thinks I’m suffering from mild cognitive impairment, which is a slight step below dementia, but things are good right now. That’s the nice thing about a working diagnosis: nothing is sure until the doctor says it’s sure, if that makes any sense. I can continue working in the office and in the capacity of a medic, pilot, and nurse as needed. Office work seems to keep me calm and distracted from everything going on around me, so that’s the preferred course. And since we have plenty of other people to fill my other roles, it’s not a problem. Besides, I have enough in the office to keep me busy for a while as I need to catch up on some paperwork, so I’ll be fine for a while now.

Of course, who knows how much longer I’ll be okay. Dr. Magnus said I’m still in line for early onset dementia, but things are slowing for now. The medication is working (which explained why my symptoms leveled out) and for now, I’m going to be okay.

“How’d it go?”

I glanced up at Sean, who was leaning against the door frame to my office. My appointment had been a few days ago, and I was glad to get back to work. The schedule I kept here kept my mind off of things and I needed the distraction.

“It went well. The medication is finally working and for now, the dementia diagnosis is under the table. Of course, things could change in a moment, but for now, things are good. At this point, we’re going to take what we get. I can still work and for the time being, my brain isn’t on strike.”

Sean laughed a bit and I smiled; it was nice to be back at work, joking with everyone. They all understood the seriousness of the situation, of course, but it never hurt to laugh about it now and again.

“Well, as long as things are good, that’s all that matters. You’ll probably be under observation for a while, but at least it’s us doing the observing,” he told me and I nodded. “And it won’t be as intrusive as the other times. If you start to have problems, just give me a yell.”

“I will,” I promise, as he pushed off the frame and moved into the ER proper. He’s moving slower these days, as we all are. Our backs and joints aren’t what they used to be, as the job really takes a toll on them. I know I’ve abused my back more than some, but office duty seems like less of a chore than it did in the past simply because it hurts less. “Okay, schedule.”

My day was so routine it was easy to get lost in it. I was a little behind on the schedule, but everyone was understanding. Kelsey had it mostly done, so I finished it up, got it confirmed from Sean and printed enough for everyone to have a copy. Paperwork seemed to fly by as well and before I knew it, it was five and time to head home. Sean was really on me about getting done on time and I couldn’t really argue with him. There’s no need for me to have overtime, so I try hard not to have any.

“Have a good night guys,” I called as I left. Jacoby hurried over and kissed me, while our co-workers hooted and egged us on. “See you at home tonight to finish what you started.”

Jack laughed as he pulled away, his good mood restored with recent good news from the doctor. I moved toward the door in time to hear Sean get a good jab in: “do you need to go home and have sex now?”

Laughing, I made my way to my truck, hoping tonight would be as great as it promised to be. Some men lose their sex drive as they get older, but not us. Our bodies have aged and changed but that has remained the same. We might not have the stamina we had 30 years ago, but we can still go for a long time.

Okay, I’ll shut up about my sex life now, promise. But what I said stands. Okay, I’m done.

Anyway, I got home and got started trying to come up with something for supper. I feel less creative these days, but the food I make we both like, so I must be doing something right. Turning to an old friend, I grabbed Eleanor’s cookbook How Not to Burn Water and flipped through. Nothing really sounded good as I flipped through, despite all of our favorites being here.

“Oliver, what looks good?” I asked as the cat moseyed into the kitchen. He purred, rubbing my legs, as I kept flipping through. “Homemade mac and cheese? Enchiladas? Taco stuffed shells?”

He meowed at homemade mac and cheese, so I decided to make that. It’s quick and easy and we always like it. Nodding, I gathered what I’d need and started putting the dish together. Jacoby won’t be home until at least 1930, so I’ve got time. Hopefully, we can eat quickly and then we can…well, I promised I was done, didn’t I?

Giggling to myself, I finally got the food in to cook, deciding to make some potatoes and carrots on the side. I like to cut them up, put them in a 9x13 pan, drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with seasonings; it’s quick, easy and tasty. And yes, it’s in the cookbook, too.

“Smells amazing in here,” Jacoby said an hour and a half later, walking in from work. I was sitting and reading and I smiled, putting my book aside. “It’s damn cold out there right now, by the way. I think we might have an early winter.”

I sighed. “I sure hope not. These extended falls and summers have been so wonderful. I’m not ready to deal with snow and ice.”

My husband settled onto my lap (if he keeps this up, we won’t have time to eat!) and nodded. “Me, either, but it’ll be here before we know it. We’ve got everything ready to go, blades are on, so we’ll be okay.”

I wasn’t convinced, but it’s no good worrying about it now. We’ll have to wait and see how this winter goes and then see if we’re singing the “it’ll be okay” tune come Christmas. The upside to this is that we’re going out to spend Christmas with the kids and my dad, so we’ll be in California for about two weeks.

“We should eat that amazing food of yours so we can get to the rest of our night. I think I owe ya something from earlier,” he teased and my mood instantly lifted, causing me to smile. I raced him to the kitchen, and won, so he had to set the table while I got the food out. “Just you wait, Mr. Shaddix.”

Grinning, I pecked his cheek then placed the hot dishes on the table and put serving spoons in each one. “Challenge accepted.”

***

“You’re walking funny,” Sean observed the next morning and I flipped him off, laughing. “I don’t need details, by the way. Just glad to know you got laid.”

I burst out laughing, noting that he was smiling a lot as well. “I bet I’m not the only one walking funny today.”

“You guys, TMI!” Racheal complained from dispatch shaking her head. Our sex lives get a lot of mileage around here, hers included. Trust me, we all figured out rather quickly when her youngest was conceived and twenty five years later, we’ve never let her forget. “And yes, I know your comeback already.”

“Ziyada was conceived on January 15th, 2019,” I reminded her, as she laughed, her face a deep shade of red. “Still want to talk about TMI?”

She snorted then flipped me off. “Funny, ha ha, Jimmy. Get in your office.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, pretending to look offended. “Make me.”

My luck, dispatch was quiet as could be right now. Racheal stood up and I squeaked, running away from her and barely making my office before she caught me. She knows my ticklish spots, see, and she knows how to make me move. I peeked out the door a few minutes later to see Hollister, Tony, and Sean P. all laughing at my expense.

“Funny,” I deadpanned, but had to join in as well. I advanced into the ER and then let out a squeal as my left side was tweaked. “Fuck!”

Racheal let out a cackle as I chased her and finally managed to get back, nailing her under her right arm pit.

“Mercy!” she shouted as I laughed. She attacked me back and for a few minutes, the ER was filled with laughter and shouts as co-workers egged us on.

“We need a dispatcher!” Sean called and all at once, business resumed. Racheal ran for her console and I worked to catch my breath, still laughing. “Whew…she made it.”

We laughed even harder when Rachel’s face showed confusion. “There’s no one here,” she muttered, gesturing to her console. As Sean started laughing, her eyes widened and she realized what he’d done. “Thanks man.”

“It’s on,” I declared and stalked toward Sean, trying to look sinister and intimidating. Of course, that’s when the console went off for real and our fun once again turned to business.

As teams dispersed to the first emergency of the day, I returned to my office, a big smile on my face. Not for the first time, I questioned why I’d ever want to leave these people. No, retirement was going to have to wait just a few more years.

22

I was standing over the sink peeling potatoes (I’m a bit domestic at times, shut up!) when my phone rang. Smiling, I grabbed it and greeted Jacoby, wondering what news he would bring. So far, things had been going fine with Jimmy, and they were due to arrive from Los Angeles any moment now.

“Your dad and I are just pulling it at your grandpa’s,” he told me and I grinned. “We’ll get settled then come over for supper as planned.”

“Sounds good,” I told him and hung up, returning to supper prep. I was making a fairly simple supper tonight, just a beef roast and a side of potatoes and carrots. It was in Grandma Mark’s cookbook but it was always a big hit. The roast was nearly done and the carrots wouldn’t take long in the oven. “Guys, what are you doing?”

“Nothing!” Corey called back and I shook my head. Nothing my ass. “Mari’s playing with toys.”

I can’t believe that Marianna is already 15 months. She’s walking, talking, and keeping up pretty well with her siblings. Of course, they are expected to watch her while I cook and for the most part, they do a good job, but I still get nervous when it gets quiet.

“I’ll go check,” Clayton said, kissing my cheek as he came in from work. From now until New Years, we are on vacation and I am looking forward to it. My parents are only here for two weeks, so we’re going to make the most of it, concluding with a big New Years party before they fly back on January second.

Now, I’m sure you’re also curious why we didn’t talk about Mari’s first birthday party yet. After all, she turned one in September. Well, we had a small party for her then, but we’re having a big party for her in a couple of days so my parents could be here for it. From here on out, we’ll just party with whomever can make it, but this works for her first birthday.

“All’s well,” Clayton assured me, as I got a chance to take a break. The food was in and I kissed him, smiling. “So, when the kids are asleep and your parents are gone for the night, you’re all mine, right?”

I grinned, nodding. “You bet. But no more babies,” I joked and he laughed. To be honest, we had agreed we were done having kids. We were taking measures guaranteed not to fail and he was going to get a vasectomy in the New Year.

Yeah, TMI speech runs in the family; sorry about that. Anyway, got a text from Jimmy saying they’re on their way, so sex will have to wait. I hugged my husband, gave him one more kiss, then went to check on the kids. Mari was just starting to show interest in the potty, so we have the potty chair out, mostly so she can become familiar with it and won’t be scared of it when it’s time to start.

“Let’s get a new diaper on you, young lady,” I told her, swooping her from the floor. She protested but I wouldn’t let her down. “Your grandfathers are going to be here soon and we don’t want you to smell.”

“Readie books?” she asked and I smiled. “Now.”

I shook my head, as I fastened the new diaper and stood her to pull up her shorts. “Maybe later. First, we want to visit.”

“We’re here!”

“Grandpa!” Corey screeched, and I listened as he thundered down the hall, down the stairs and probably vaulted into Jimmy’s arms. “I missed you!”

Laughing, I carried Mari downstairs, setting her into Jacoby’s arms, hugging my grandfather. “How are you guys doing?”

My parents smiled, as each of the grand kids said hi. “We’re good. The flight was good, and it was nice to escape just before the blizzard hit.”

I laughed, understanding that sentiment. “Sucks to be in Iowa right now,” I joked and Jacoby nodded, handing Mari to Jimmy. “Well, should we get out of the doorway?”

We moved into the living room, and I checked on the food, satisfied that everything was going well. Jimmy looked healthier than ever and I was happy for that as well.

“Randi and the girls should be here soon. Cilla’s coming around five, since she filled in for someone for a couple of hours so they could attend a funeral. I figure supper won’t be ready until around six anyway, so she’ll have plenty of time. We’re having roast, potatoes, and carrots, by the way; Grandma Mark’s recipe, of course.”

Jimmy wiped pretend drool from his mouth while I laughed, shooing the kids off to go play. Corey offered to read Mari some books and I thanked him; I wouldn’t have time until company had left.

“So, how are you doing dad?” I asked, just so we could get it out of the way.

“I’m good, actually. Dr. Magnus got my medication where it needed to be and it’s working wonders for me. I haven’t felt this good in a long time, to be honest. The doctor says that, as long as the medication keeps working, I should be good to go for several years.”

“That’s encouraging,” I said, as the front door opened. Ava ran to play with her cousins while Randi brought the baby in. She was almost a month old now, and was so cute. This adoption was closed at the request of the birth mother, but no one cared. “Baby!”

“Hey everyone,” she said, smiling, as she set the carrier down. She unbuckled Bethany Barbara (after Grandma Sullivan, of course) and handed her to Jacoby. He grinned, gently cradling his youngest granddaughter, who wouldn’t even remember her first Christmas. “She just woke up from a nap, so she might be a bit cranky. She’s not a very happy baby and we aren’t sure why.”

“You need to cheer up,” Jacoby instructed her, and I smiled; he’s so good with kids. “Don’t be angry, angry baby.”

Randi fixed a bottle quick and I watched as she put gas drops into it before shaking it. Jacoby offered to feed her and I noticed Randi was more than happy to let him; clearly, it’s been a stressful month.

“There. Is it the formula?” Jimmy asked, leaning back a bit on the couch.

“That’s what I thought, too, so with her doctor’s blessing, we went to a sensitive stomach formula, but it hasn’t made a difference. When this can is gone, we’re going to a soy-based formula and see if that helps. I want to test for food allergies, but I guess she’s too young. If she’s still doing this at six months, I’m pushing for testing.”

I can’t blame her; I’d do the same for my kids. “Hopefully things will work out for her,” I told her, as I felt the need to say something.

We fell quiet after that, everyone watching as Bethany finished eating. Jacoby burped her and I almost laughed at the burp she let out; big girl! Jimmy happily took his turn with his new granddaughter and I recognized the look on his face: he’s thinking how much they’ve missed in the first month of her life. I really wish I could convince my parents to move out here, but they’re always so opposed to it.

“I’m going to check the food,” I said, standing. Grandpa stood and said he’d help and I nodded, confused; I didn’t really need any help, but I’ll take what I can get, I guess. “What’s up?”

He leaned in a bit closer and I started to worry; had he taken ill? “I just wanted to give you some advice. I think your parents are considering relocating out here. I hate to use the grandkids as leverage, but they’re thinking about everything they miss while they’re out there; perhaps that will convince them to move here. I am going to talk to them tonight, of course, since I know how they feel. But I think it’s time to get them out here for good.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” I said, opening the oven. I popped the lid on the meat and stuck a thermometer in it; almost done. “I just don’t want to upset them, you know? If they’re happy in Iowa, maybe we shouldn’t push the issue.”

Grandpa nodded, as I closed the oven and leaned against the counter. “I understand and I agree. But I was speaking to Jimmy the other night, finalizing plans for their visit. The medication is working, but I can tell things still aren’t quite right with him. The medicine is working for now, but if he’s out here, we have an entire wing of one of the local hospitals devoted to memory care and it’d be a good choice for him.”

Nodding, I sighed, rubbing my face. “I want them to move out here so bad, grandpa, I really do. But what if we push for it and they end up miserable?”

He shrugged, turning to head back to the living room. “It’s a chance we’ll have to take.”

***

“Why does Mari get two birthday parties?” Corey whined for what had to be the twentieth time today. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I turned to my son and glared at him.

“Because, Corey. Your grandparents could not afford to fly out for a one day party, fly home, fly back at Christmas and still fly home again. Therefore, we had a family-only party on her birthday and today we are having the big party. If you ask that question again, I will ground you for two days, bar you from the party and make you eat broccoli for every meal for the next week.”

I swear his eyes are bulging out of his skull…no joke. My son hates broccoli just like every other kid in the world, but he has a particularly passionate hate of the stuff. I don’t mind it so much (shhh..don’t tell my parents!) but he’ll leave the house if I’m cooking it.

“Now, did that answer your question?”

He nodded, turning from me and heading into the backyard to go play. Shaking my head, I finished setting up the dining room for the party, placing the cake on the counter, still in its protective box from the bakery. I did not have the baking gene like Jimmy and didn’t really know anyone who could make a cake, so I bought one.

“Mama!” Mari called, waddling into the room. She had her hand clutched tightly around Jimmy’s pinky finger, and I smiled grabbing my camera. “Gampa stay!”

They both smiled as I snapped their picture and then I pondered her phrase. Of course, she’s just a year old and so learning to talk, but what did that mean.

“You mean is grandpa staying for your party?” I asked, though she didn’t respond. “Yes, he’s staying for your party. He’ll be here until the New Year.”

Dad smiled, and I know that look: he’s up to something, but now was not the time. Whatever he and Jacoby were up to, we’d have to discuss it later.

“Are you ready to party, Mari?” dad asked and she nodded, reaching for his other hand. I laughed as the two started to dance, Mari shaking her little butt for all she was worth. “You go girl!”

I wanted more of these moments between my parents and their grandchildren. Skype was no longer enough and I always worried that Mari or Bethany would forget who my parents were with their infrequent visits.

“Party!” Mari shouted, as dad twirled her and danced around the dining room with her. He swooped her into his arms and she squealed with happiness. “Party time!”

With a laugh, I returned to my work, glad that it was almost party time. Christmas was in two days and things were ready for that as well. Our house was decorated, a friend had come over and made fake snow for our lawn and the gifts were piling up; we’d be hosting this year and I couldn’t wait. I was looking forward to having a full house of family and watching my parents with their grandchildren.

“Okay, we’re ready,” I said, stirring the taverns one more time. Buns and condiments were sitting out, things that needed to be kept cold were on ice and there were plenty of spoons, knives, etc., and in short, all I needed were the guests.

That’s when the doorbell rang. And it did not stop for a solid hour, until, finally, everyone had arrived. Mari soaked up the attention, and if she was confused about this second birthday party, it didn’t show. She had a love of attention, so I suppose this was right up her alley more than anything. I watched as she soaked up the attention, glad her older siblings were on their best behavior. Snapping pictures here and there, I could only hope we’d have more of these moments. I knew there was nothing I could do to convince my parents to move here, but maybe more of these moments would convince them. In the mean time, I’ll enjoy the moments we’re getting.

Okay, what does Mari know that we don't?!?!?!?!

Have Jack and Jim finally decided to move to California and only told the baby? That's kinda cute

*laughs* Well, considering she can barely talk, she'd be the best one to keep a secret if they needed a secret keeper, lol! *should keep this in mind*

Chapter 30 is being a bit of a bitch to me...it's doing what I wanted it to, but not in a very cooperative way...*sighs* But I think you'll like the chapters from here on out!

*off to edit today's chapter*

23

Wrapping paper littered Eliza’s living room as the kids played with their new toys and the adults supervised and visited. Mari didn’t seem to know what to play with first, considering what she’d gotten at her second first birthday party. Jimmy and I were sitting with his dad and the girls at the dining room table, still finishing our filling meal, and there was one gift we hadn’t given out yet.

Glancing at Jimmy, as we finally finished out plates, took the last sips of wine (he’s allowed), and then put our tattered paper napkins down, he nodded. I pulled two envelopes from my pocket, watching as Joe tried to keep from smiling; he knew what was in these envelopes, of course.

“Girls, your dad and I have one last gift for you. We wanted to tell you guys before we told anyone else…well, your grandpa knows, but that’s because your dad has a big mouth,” I said, laughing when Jimmy punched my arm. “Go ahead, open them.”

Confused, the girls tore into their envelopes and when they pulled the pictures out, their faces lit up with happiness. I watched as both attempted to speak but couldn’t do it, as they looked from the pictures to us and back again.

“For real?” Cilla finally squeaked out, showing me the picture, and I nodded. “Oh my god. Are you sure? I mean, this is awesome, but you’re really doing it?”

I nodded, smiling. “We’re really doing it, Cilla. Your dad and I talked this over and realized a few things: one, we’re missing out on so much living so far away from you guys. It took Mari a while before she remembered us and that sucked hardcore. Plus, Joe’s not getting any younger; Jimmy deserves more time with his dad. That and we miss you guys. Plus, winter sucks and it’s getting harder for us to handle driving in it. Jimmy ditched his truck last week because of the ice and it took a while to find a rescue and more to calm him down. He wasn’t hurt, but he was quite shaken. Another thing, which was pointed out to us by Dr. Magnus, is that the weather here is better for Jimmy’s COPD because it’s a bit more stable. So, when we go back, we’re going to work with a realtor and get the farm up for sale.”

“Sale?” Eliza asked and I nodded, smiling. It hadn’t been an easy decision, but we were going to do it. “Wow. I didn’t expect that. I thought maybe you’d rent it out or something.”

“We’re still considering that,” Jimmy assured her. “Sean P.’s daughter just got married and she’s looking for a good starter house. If they’re interested and willing to put in the work with the yard and stuff, we’ll work out a payment with them and they can rent it.”

It was quiet for a moment, as the shock of our announcement wore off. “Now, this all is waiting on winter to end, since it’ll be easier, and once we get a bit more money saved back. We need to get a moving company and everything. But we’re coming home.”

All at once, the girls screamed and practically tackled us to the floor. We hadn’t even started the retirement paperwork, but since we weren’t moving until May, it didn’t really matter. Our girls were happy and that was all that mattered to us.

“When are you coming?” Eliza asked when things had calmed down. A few people (okay, everyone)had noticed and we were preparing now to make our announcement.

“Sometime in May. We have a lot to do, but we are coming, we promise. We’re going to live with your grandpa, since we inherit the house and that way we don’t have to rent or buy a new house,” Jimmy explained as everyone gathered in the dining room. Even the grandkids seemed curious. “Well, everyone, Jacoby and I have some good news.”

I felt like we were stealing the spotlight, but Eliza smiled at us and nodded that we should continue. “Well, we’ve decided to move back to California.”

I wasn’t sure what to expect but the cheers and clapping certainly weren’t it. Are we the only ones who hadn’t figured out yet it was time to come home? When everyone had calmed down, we went back to relaxing. Jimmy hugged me tight and kissed my cheek.

“We should’ve done this years ago,” he told me and I nodded.

“I know. I owe you an apology, Jack, for all those years I turned you down.”

He held me for a moment, then kissed my cheek again. “It’s okay, Jack. As much as I wish we’d done this years ago, at least we get to do it now. It’s no good lamenting what we didn’t do. Let’s just enjoy it now.”

How could I argue with that? With one more kiss, I moved off to socialize, considering we were only here for just over a week, I wanted to make sure we saw everyone while we were here.

***

Time flies when you’re visiting for a week and a bit and now we’re making our way out to Tony’s truck, ready to get back to our farm. The reality of what we’re doing hasn’t truly sunk in yet, but it will. We need to meet with Alise and her husband and see if they’re interested in living so far out of town, considering the commute to Omaha. Barring that, we’ll check with other friends to see about renting it to their kids and then we’ll go the sale route. It would bring in a lot of cash, considering our 180 acres. Now, most of that is farm land, and right now farm land is going for a pretty penny. We got the house cheap and the land cheaper, because it hadn’t been farmed in a while and the dirt wasn’t “good”, we were told. Letting an area farmer work on that dirt for $750 a month rent changed that around in a couple of years. But I was going to miss this farm, that’s for sure.

“How was your trip?” Tony asked, pulling into traffic. It had snowed while we were gone and I frowned; California had been so warm.

“It was good,” Jimmy answered, coughing a bit. The cold weather was getting to him again. “The girls are happy, we have a new grandchild and our other grandchildren are growing like weeds. The jeans we bought Corey for Christmas were too short, so we had to take them back and try to find new ones. You can tell Eliza’s his mother.”

We all laughed at that, as Tony finally got onto the interstate. It was clear though some snow was blowing over it in little wisps here and there. It’s normal this time of year, but it didn’t put me at ease at all.

“You missed the big storm, by the way,” Tony said, moving around a slow-moving truck. “We got hit with a blizzard on Christmas Eve. Fourteen inches of snow with an inch of ice underneath that; made me wish I was moving to California with you.”

Of course, all our friends already know about our plans to move. We told them first, particularly Sean, and they’ve all been supportive. We’d already gone part time anyway, and the physical demands are getting to our bodies. We both have things we want to do in retirement and are lucky enough that we can retire now instead of continuing to work.

“I’m excited, though it will be hard to pack up 40 plus years at the farm,” Jimmy said, as Tony took the Mondamin exit. “Once in a while, I have second thoughts, but overall, I’m very excited about moving home. I just wish we could take all of you with us.”

Tony nodded and I glanced at him; he rarely fidgets. “Annie’s retiring at the end of the month,” he told us, but I think there was more to it. “I’m thinking about it. I’m 65 now and it’s getting harder to do the physical part of the job. Of course, Sean joked that once you guys retired, we’d all have to retire.”

We all laughed, as he finally made the gravel. I realized it was a sheet of ice and noted the care with which he drove. I was not going to miss this, that’s for sure. But there’s a lot I will miss and a lot of that is the friends we’ve made in our time living out here in no man’s land.

“What are you going to do if you retire?” I asked, as we crept slowly up the gravel. It really was quite slick and I didn’t like it.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, correcting a slide. “We’ve talked about moving into town; a friend of hers sells condos in Omaha. But I’m not a city person, you know? We then talked about doing like you guys, moving back to my home state, but we’re not sure what we want to do.”

“I can see how moving to Mississippi would be enticing; isn’t Georgia down there?” Jimmy asked, as our driveway finally came into view. The snow had been cleared and everything sanded or salted, so it was clear, thankfully.

“She is and she’s getting married in three weeks. We’re taking off Monday to go down and help her get ready and everything. We’re going to do some looking while they’re on their honeymoon and we stay at the house, see if think we could live down there. I hate to give up our place out here, but it’s getting to be too much to take care of. Annie’s heart isn’t all that great and she’s been reduced to a desk job, which she hates. She needs have to have a transplant in the next couple of years, but it’s all down to finding a donor.”

He shut off the truck and helped us carry in. Jimmy was wearing his mask, something he’d been able to do without while we were in California.

“Sit for a minute,” I said, once everything was hauled in. We didn’t have much, but the help was appreciated. Jimmy was having a breathing treatment and I saw his portable oxygen sitting nearby; he was prepping it. “Drink?”

Tony accepted a glass of water and sat at the table, worry evident on his face. “Thanks. So, when do you move?”

“Sometime in May. We’re going to keep working until then, give us time to sort out what to do with the farm and stuff. It sounds like Alise might be looking for a starter home, as she and her husband have decided to move back from Texas. They want a house, but don’t want to live in Omaha.”

“I can understand that; forty years ago, we didn’t want to live in Omaha, either,” he said and I smiled, nodding. “We all started there, funny how we all ended up out here.”

Jimmy joined us then, and I listened to the little hiss his oxygen made as it delivered the air to his lungs. I didn’t like how the tubing looking on his face, but it was necessary. I took his hand and kissed it, noting that his breathing problems were back.

“It is, when you think about it. I wouldn’t trade the years we’ve had out here for the world, though. Now, it’s time for all of us to move on, I think. I always thought we’d make it through like Hank and Eleanor, but it’s not meant to be, is it?” Jimmy asked, and I shook my head. “My breathing can’t take the cold anymore, that’s for sure. Even Dr. Magnus advocated for our move.”

Tony’s eyebrows rose a bit. “What’d Dr. Sullivan say?”

Jimmy shrugged, adjusting the nasal cannula a bit. “She said to go as well. Sometimes, the drier air out there is better for COPD patients. I’m going to end up with end-stage COPD the longer we stay here, since the medication can only do so much. But if I go out there, I can stay healthier longer.”

“That’s our problem. Annie’s heart doesn’t care where she lives; it’s dying. She’s on the transplant list, but of course, we have to find a donor. It amazes me what medical advances we’ve made to now but we still can’t do an artificial heart. She’s okay for now, but her doctor wants her to have a new heart soon. The problem is that the transplant list is miles long and it’s all down to need. She’s not emergent, because she can still work and travel and stuff.”

I rubbed his shoulder, because in a way, I understood. With Jimmy, I was lucky, too: he could still do his normal activities. But his bad days were getting worse and if moving is what works, then we’re out of here.

“What does Mississippi offer for heart care?” I asked, draining my glass. I got the pitcher and gave everyone a refill, placing the crackers and cheese on the table as well. We all made a sandwich and Tony sighed.

“Same as here. Her doctor said the care down there is very good and if we go, it will help to be closer to family. Annie was an only, of course, and her folks are gone as is her extended family. My folks are gone, too, but I have some extended family and Georgia, of course. If there are grandchildren, we’d like to be closer.”

“That’s a lot of our motivation, after health,” I admitted and Jimmy nodded. “Our grandkids are going up so fast and we’ve missed so much. Little Mari doesn’t always recognize us right away and that’s hard to take. So, being out there will be good for Jimmy and we’ll be around our grandkids for however many years we have left.”

Tony nodded, assembling another sandwich. “That and the weather is better out there,” he remarked and we all laughed. “Are you going to find work?”

I shrugged, making another sandwich. “We don’t know yet. We’ve talked about it, seeing if we can indulge some hobbies, but there are no set decisions yet. We have to deal with the house first and decide what to do with that. If we sell it, we’ll get a lot of money and that will be welcome, of course. But if we sell, we want to make sure it will be put to good use and that Nash’s son won’t be out of business. After all, he rents the fields and we told him we’d never change that.”

Tony looked thoughtful. “Well, why not do the rental thing, then? He can keep farming the fields, and you can help Alise or whoever get a house they could never afford. I know housing prices are good, but your house is not going to go cheap. If you can rent it to them, you’d be better off. And then, if you ever wanted to come back, you could. Or, you could do a rent to own thing. Figure out how much the house and the two acres would go for and figure out a monthly price.”

We clearly have our work cut out for us. It was going to take time, but we had time. And May isn’t set in stone yet, either, of course. I would be glad when the decisions were made and we were on our way, but in the mean time, I’d enjoy our remaining months on the farm. I was going to miss this place and all the memories we’d built here, but I know we’re doing the right thing. We are doing the right thing, aren’t we?

I am glad they've made the decision. Jack apologising was kind of a bitter sweet moment for me, cos I don't think he was ever intentionally going against what Jimmy wanted, after all his family are out there too. I think Jack just wanted the life he'd always known with Jimmy, and was maybe a little bit afraid to change all that.

I agree. I think he was settled and couldn't see doing anything else. Jimmy made his wishes so clear, but Jack wouldn't listen. I thought the apology was a good idea, and I was proud of Jimmy's reaction. But I'm also glad they've made the decision; it's the right one.

24

“Call when you get there, okay?” Matt asked, hugging me tight. “Everything will be okay out here and I promise the girls will see you on Skype at least once a day.”

I hugged Ava tight, told her to be good for Matt and Val and then held Bethany once more. She was four months old now and growing by leaps and bounds. Matt and Val had offered to watch the girls while we went out to Iowa to help Jacoby with the house and see Jimmy.

“We will. And we’ll let you know how Jimmy’s doing as well,” Randi promised, as our flight was called. We hurried through security, knowing that Grandpa, Eliza and Clayton were already a flight ahead of us and would arrive in Omaha a good eight hours before us.

Holding my wife’s hand, as we ran through the airport, I was relieved to get into our seats. Jimmy had taken ill all at once, going into the hospital via air ambulance from Missouri Valley and as usual, it was bad. His COPD had taken a sudden turn but the doctor seemed confident, according to Jacoby, that once this exacerbation cleared, he’d be okay. That meant, though, that their move to California, once a sort of “when we get around to it” deal was now solidly set for “as soon as Jimmy can fly”.

“Where’s he at?” Randi asked, as the seatbelt sign went off. I missed my girls already, but now wasn’t the time to have them out at the farm. We were going to fly everyone out for a farewell party, but now that didn’t look likely, either.

“ICU room 2 at Creighton,” I said, looking at the note I’d written. It was going to be a long seven hours to Omaha, that’s all I can say. “Last I knew, he wasn’t on the vent, which is good, but he did code in Missouri Valley last night and again this morning at Creighton. He’s on the highest amount of oxygen he can get off the vent and the highest doses of medication he can have to break this exacerbation. There are new COPD medications out there now which have a better track record than the old ones, so if he pulls through, he’ll be switched to a new regiment.”

I think this drove home to me what might be in my future. Of course, by now, strides are being made so that COPD either isn’t a problem at all or is at least manageable. My lungs are in good shape these days, as I still run. I also take good care of them, and don’t need medication even for my mild asthma. But as Dr. Ratigan is quick to remind me, things can change quickly where lungs are concerned.

“He always pulls through, Cilla, even when it seems bleak,” Randi reminded me as the plane bumped a bit; I hate turbulence. “We’ll get there and before you know it, we’ll be packing the house for them to move out here with your grandpa.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t convinced. First of all, that’s a lot of house to pack up. Plus, we have to arrange the moving company and figure out how to fit their house into grandpa’s house. They decided to do the rent to own thing, so Clara Mars, a friend of my dad’s ex-wife, is helping them with that. Alise and her husband are indeed buying the house, but they aren’t going to be moving back until June. If Jimmy gets the okay to fly before then, he and dad are leaving ahead of schedule.

“There’s a lot to do, though, Randi. We only have two weeks and then we have to go back; that’s all the PTO we have. We aren’t going to get jack shit done in two weeks.”

She shushed me, then, stroking my hair, which always relaxes me. This time was no different, as I took a deep breath and felt my body relaxing. Eliza can take all the time off she wants, but we are not so lucky. Grandpa will stay for a while, too, and if we have to go back early for work, that’s fine. But I feel bad, because I don’t have a flexible schedule; the only way we get more than two weeks is if dad passes away.

“Come on, hon, we’re in Phoenix.”

I rubbed my eyes, standing, as I followed Randi off the plane. We have an hour to get to our next gate and then we’re on our way to Omaha. I can’t wait, but at the same time, I wish we were heading out for different reasons. You know, like something happy. Like their 45th wedding anniversary. The weather prevented us coming out, so we’re throwing them a secret party once they’re all settled. The date for that was June 6th, but we might move it up now.

“Well, let’s hope the second leg goes well,” Randi said, once our flight was called. I just wanted to sleep all the way to Omaha, so I didn’t have time to worry about dad. We always knew his COPD could take a bad turn, but were hoping that modern medicine would catch up first. “You going to sleep again?”

I shrugged, putting my carry on in its compartment. “I’m going to try, but we’ll see. Is your mom meeting us at the airport?”

“That’s the plan,” she told me, as we took our seats and fastened our seatbelts. “It’s either mom or Alicia.”

Alicia was Randi’s unmarried, childless sibling. Now, I’m not saying that as a slight against her (we support her 100%) but several family members have come down on her for remaining single and living her dreams. She wanted to go to medical school and become an oncologist and she did. Her family supported her through that, but when she was done with school and was working full time as a doctor, asked why she never dated or married. She didn’t want to, but I guess that wasn’t good enough for her family. Outside of her mom and siblings, she’s basically been shunned because her extended family puts a lot of emphasis on being married and having kids.

“She’s still in Omaha?” I asked, surprised, as the pre-flight routines were gone through.

Randi nodded, waiting until the flight attendants were done speaking before she continued. “For now. She did her internship at Creighton and they kept her on to help out. But she’s looking at the west coast at the moment or somewhere down south. As long as they pay as well or better then Creighton, she’ll go. She’s never liked Omaha, but it was a good choice for her internship.”

“I can see why, since she’s close to home and didn’t have to pay for housing. But I can understand the need to escape. You know, UCI is hiring an oncologist,” I pointed out and Randi’s eyes brightened. They’ve never been close, but are always good enough to let the other know about job opportunities. “You should mention it to her.”

“I will,” she said, retrieving our bags once we were allowed. I wanted my book and headphones so I could relax without sleeping; I don’t want to be wired when we arrive.

We were quiet then, as the flight wore on. I was worried about dad, but my book took my mind off things. I was so engrossed in both the story and the music that I about died when Randi tapped my arm. Looking around, hoping no one had been startled by my yelp, I unplugged, shutting my music player off.

“Time to pack up,” she said, laughing. She loves scaring me and knows I scare easily. “I’ll put your stuff away.”

I buckled in while she stowed our bags, then sat back for the end of the flight. Everything was clear in Omaha, and it was odd seeing city of my birth come into view a few thousand feet at a time. It’s mid-March, so the weather is in its bi-polar phase, of course. Thankfully, it looked warm out and the sun was shining, so there’s no snow to contend with.

“We’re going straight to the hospital,” I said, and my wife nodded, as we finally landed. Once we were able, we got in line, filing out with the other passengers. Whoever was waiting for us would be in baggage claim, since they weren’t allowed at the gates anymore. “I want to get the update as soon as possible.”

We hurried our way out, grabbing our bags as fast as they came off the conveyor. We weren’t worried about rentals this time; we’d just borrow from someone. Marg gave us each a quick hug then hurried us to the car and got us to Creighton as fast as she could.

“Eliza and them got in about ten last night,” she told us, parking as close to the door as she could. “He made it through the night so that’s a good sign.”

It was around 0630 now, and shift change would be going on soon. Ignoring anything around us, we ran to the front entrance, almost broke the automatic door down to get inside then went at a dead run for ICU. I hit the button, bypassing the lounge and finally stood outside my dad’s room. I couldn’t help my emotions as I realized he was indeed vented.

“Glad you’re here,” Jacoby said, pulling me into a tight hug. We held each other for a moment, no doubt both wondering what had gone wrong. Dad had been doing just fine until yesterday and I was scared to death. “He made it through the night, Cilla, which is good. He hasn’t coded since yesterday afternoon at two. The doctor said he’s starting to come around and she thinks the exacerbation is clearing. There’s no pneumonia this time, which is to his advantage. But he’s on the vent because he de-satted and they couldn’t get him back up.”

I wiped my eyes, approaching the bed, setting into a chair near the window. I took his hand, surprised when he squeezed it and briefly opened his eyes.

“How’s his brain function?” I asked, out of habit. I knew the risks with COPD and hypoxia can really mess with your brain.

“So far, so good,” Jacoby said, settling next to Randi and me. “I’ll ask him some questions and if he squeezes your hand once that means yes and twice means no.” I nodded, watching the bed. “Jimmy, is your last name Shaddix?”

One squeeze, which meant he had a right answer. I nodded to dad and he continued. “How many kids do you have?”

He squeezed twice, so he passed that test as well. “Dad, am I Priscilla?”

One squeeze, so he’s in there. I was relieved and we let him rest after that. Randi held my hand as I turned to Jacoby.

“What happened?” I asked and he shrugged, clearly at a loss.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He was fine and then last night I got home from work and found him on the floor. He was barely breathing, there was a water puddle around him and a water glass near the stove; it was clear he’d passed out. I got the ambulance out there and we got him to Mo. Valley. He coded in their ER, so they called for air transport and we got him here. He coded right after your sister got here last night but they brought him back again. He’s been fine since, he just can’t breathe on his own.”

I swallowed hard, watching my father. He was trying to get his hands off the bed, coughing, and I started calming him while Jacoby ran for the nurse. Per protocol, his hands were restrained to the bed so he couldn’t pull the breathing tube out. I knew how to take them out, but I’m not on the case, so I can’t do anything right now.

“Can you give us a moment with your dad?” his nurse asked, and I nodded, hugging dad for a moment before stepping out.

Randi hugged me as we waited near the nurse’s station. “It’s a good sign when he’s fighting the tube, honey, remember that, okay? It’s a very good sign and you have to remember that your dad is a fighter, okay? Don’t you ever lose sight of that.”

I nodded, as she rubbed my back. Stress is a tough thing for me and of course, this was a huge stressor. I turned when his door slid open and saw Jacoby leave the room, his face pale, his eyes troubled.

“He’s breathing on his own,” he announced and I almost collapsed in relief. “But it’s going to be touch and go for a few days still. Dr. Sullivan is on her way.”

We all moved back into the room, where my dad turned to me with half-lidded eyes. He mustered a smile and I hugged him tight, worried I was going to lose him. I really didn’t want to lose my dad ever, but while I knew it was going to happen in the future, that time was not now.

“Hey,” he whispered and I smiled, as I held him tighter. “You didn’t have to come.”

I leaned back, smiled a watery smile at him. “Of course I did,” I told him, as the door to his room opened. Eliza, Clayton and Grandpa Sullivan walked in, relief on their faces. Dr. Sullivan was right behind them. “Of course we came. The girls didn’t come, but me and Randi did. We were worried sick.”

He smiled as he squeezed me a bit before I sat down, waiting to hear what the doctor would say. She looked over his chart, then actually smiled, which relaxed me even more.

“I’ll be getting a chest x-ray here in a few minutes but it seems things are clearing. I've got you on some different medications and I’m going to change your current medications once it’s safe to do so,” she explained and we all relaxed. “But for now, since you’re off the vent, it seems that the exacerbation is starting to clear. Now, this is still going to take a few days, but the goal is to get your upstairs in three days.”

Dad nodded, coughing, which resulted in some lower sats. He caught his breath, though, after spitting out the junk and the doctor watched him.

“The more of that stuff that comes up, the better,” she reminded him and he nodded. “In the mean time, I’ll see what the chest x-ray shows and if you keep doing this well, I’ll see you again in the morning.”

When the doctor had left, tired hit me like a ton of bricks. I laid my head on Randi’s shoulder and closed my eyes, content that my dad was going to be okay. Now, if we can just get them out to California, things will be perfect.

25

The last thing I remember is getting a glass of water. After that, there’s nothing until I looked over and saw Priscilla and Randi sitting beside me. It wasn’t hard to piece together where I was but it was harder to figure out why. I took in the salmon blanket, the beige walls, and the dim light; it signaled I was in ICU. The concern on the faces of my daughter and her wife that are next visible, even without my glasses, have me concerned.

I remember choking a bit, and then I was asleep. When I awoke again, Dr. Sullivan was standing by my bed. The visit with the doctor was a blur for me, and I don’t remember much of what was said, other than I had exacerbation of COPD. Well, that explains why I’m here. It also explains the vague memory of coughing up a small tube; clearly, my breathing went further south than I gave it credit for.

“What happened?” I whispered, as I forced my eyes open a bit further.

Jacoby leaned over me, as the head of the bed rose up a bit. “You passed out at home. What do you remember?”

I pulled in a labored breath, coughing, and once I’d cleared my throat, I yawned. “I remember getting a glass of water and that’s it.”

He nodded, as I regained my breathing. “I found you on the kitchen floor in a puddle, so that explains that. Your dad’s here as are the girls and our kids-in-law. You rest and we’ll talk more later.”

I nodded, closing my eyes. I know I’ll feel better soon, but it seems like it’s going to take forever.

***

If my thoughts are disjointed, you’ll have to forgive me; it’s been a rough couple of days. I’m on strong breathing treatments every two hours and the transition has begun to brand new medications. The transition sucks, of course, but I know that once I get onto the new meds, things will look up. I really want to go home, but right now, I’m far too sick for that to happen.

“Good morning,” a cheery voice said from the doorway and I turned my head, yawning a bit. It was early, but everything in the hospital is early. “I’m Morgan and I’m going to be your nurse until seven o’clock tonight.”

I nodded, ready to drift off to sleep, but it was not to be. Right on the heels of my nurse was someone named Lisa, my tech for the day. It’s good to know who’s caring for you, but I didn’t really care right now, because they were interrupting my sleep. Of course, I’m not going to be left alone right now, as Lisa started taking my vitals. Since I didn’t have the energy to fight her, I let her work while I tried to sleep. When I can’t breathe, I don’t sleep well in the night but can usually sleep during the day. Don’t worry it doesn’t make any sense to me, either.

“Hey,” a voice said, and I turned my head, wondering if I was ever going to be allowed to sleep. I couldn’t be mad at my dad, though, and I mustered up a smile. “Sleep if you need to. I rode in with Jacoby, who had to work today. I said I’d hang around until the girls got here to give me a lift back. Jo and Alan will be in later today.”

I nodded, closing my eyes. I really didn’t want to be interrupted again, but of course, I didn’t get my wish. Breakfast trays arrived around eight and I felt like I’d gotten zero sleep after speaking to dad. The smell of pancakes, sausage, and eggs almost made me sick; I hate eating when I don’t feel good.

“Come on, Jim, time to eat,” dad prompted me, but I shook my head, coughing a bit. I know dad was watching me as the coughing fit refused to end. When I started choking, his eyes widened and I gestured frantically for help. “Morgan! Help!”

Seconds later, my throat had been suctioned and I was breathing, if a bit raggedly. Dad looked horribly upset and I tried to assure him that everything was fine. He’d gotten me help and that’s what counts, but I wasn’t able to verbalize my thoughts.

“Don’t worry,” Morgan said, and I was glad she could talk. “You got him help and that’s all that matters. You’re not used to his reactions to mucous blockage, but you yelled and that’s the important part.”

Dad nodded, still watching me warily. “I just don’t like that I panicked, that’s all. Normally, I’m very levelheaded in emergencies,” he told her, his face still drawn into a frown. “I’m sorry, Jim.”

“Don’t—worry,” I panted, reaching for his hand. Thanks to the steroids I was on, my hands were shaking like leaves, but I wanted to assure him.

Morgan stayed with us for a few more minutes and finally, dad relaxed and smiled. “You got him help in a timely manner, so be proud of that,” she told dad, before she gave me a quick look over and then left the room. “I’ll be back later to check on you, okay? Try to eat your breakfast.”

I nodded, as dad pushed the bedside table toward me. I frowned, feeling my stomach flip at the smell of the food. I knew dad would have a guest tray and I was tempted to give him my tray as well.

“Just try,” he prompted me but I shook my head, pushing the tray away. “Not hungry?”

“If I eat—I’m going to vomit,” I told him, covering my nose with my hand. “I’m sorry, but I can’t eat.”

Dad nodded, putting the lid back on and removing the tray from the room. I watched him eat his own tray, wishing he’d remove that food, too. Normally, I just have no appetite, but this time around, food is making me literally sick. I was glad when he had finished and had removed the offending tray from the room, so I didn’t have to smell it anymore.

“I’m sorry, dad, I don’t know what’s wrong this time,” I told him, but he shook his head, taking my hand. His hand was large, weathered, wrinkled, and my hand was starting to look identical. I didn’t have quite the weathered look yet, but my skin was thinner, wrinkled, my age was starting to show.

“Don’t worry, Jim,” he told me, rubbing my hand. “Worry about getting well, okay?”

I nodded, pulling in what air I could; this is why we’re moving. Now, there are no guarantees that California will be a cure for my COPD; but the weather is better for me and there is some very promising research being done out there. Dr. Sullivan wants me to sign up for trial of a new medication once we get out there, but we have to see how this new stuff I’m on now does first.

Dad handed me some paper and I was momentarily confused. Then he handed me my drawing supplies and I smiled. Speaking is still very difficult, as I de-sat pretty fast when I try it right now.

“I figured that, since speaking is still difficult, you’d be pretty bored. So, if you want to draw, go for it,” he said, settling into the bedside chair; I have no idea when anyone else is coming out and I don’t want to bore my father. “Don’t worry about me, Jim. I know that it’s difficult for you to talk but I want to provide some company. I’m right here if you need me.”

I nodded, waiting until his attention had turned to the newspaper he had and started to draw him. My hands were shaky, but I could steady them enough to draw. Drawing is what got Eliza into tattooing and Matt has offered to teach me. I’m still thinking about it but I might do it.

It took me a couple of hours, but I finally tapped dad on the arm. When he turned, his smile was wide and blue eyes bright; I felt like a little kid again as I held up my drawing. His jaw dropped and I waited for his response.

“Wow. I knew you could draw, but I haven’t seen you draw in a while. That’s amazing, Jim.”

I looked over the drawing, not sure what dad saw in it; my hands were shaky and the lines weren’t perfect like usual; it was a good drawing, but not my best. Regardless a compliment is a compliment and I smiled as thanks. I put the drawing aside and accepted my sketch pad from dad, wondering what else I could draw to pass the time. After all, it seems I’m going to be in the hospital for a while and it’s going to get boring quickly. Putting my pencil to the page again, I started sketching the farm; this ought to keep me busy for a while.

***

After three and a half weeks in the hospital (I was in ICU for two weeks), you can imagine how glad I was to get home. My girls went back already, but dad, Jo, and Alan stayed to help us sort out the move and the house, but I missed my girls. It seems March flew by and now we’re into the first week of April.

“So, when’s the big moving date?” dad asked, as I sat at the desk in my office. The oxygen I was using only as needed is now a daily companion, along with a c-pap machine at night. I don’t like it, but until Dr. Sullivan allows me to go without, it’s how it has to be. Luckily, machines are smaller now and I don’t need a concentrator and 50’ of oxygen tubing all over the house; a small portable is now enough and we can charge it at night.

“We don’t know yet,” I said, crossing my legs. Jacoby’s at work now, but I appreciate the company. “We’ve got to get the go ahead from the doctors first, of course. After that, it will depend on finding a moving company and figuring out the house. We’re going to have Alise and her husband do a ‘rent to own’ thing, since Nash’s son wants to keep the land he’s renting. That rent will still go to us, as well the house rent, of course, but they can’t come until June. So moving day is dependent on many factors. But we’re doing it. But are you sure you want us living with you? I mean, it’s cool if you do, but we could still get an apartment or something.”

Dad smiled, adjusting a bit on the couch; his new hip sometimes aches during rainy weather, but the doctor assures him this is normal. “I want you guys there, Jim, don’t think I don’t. Honestly, that’s a lot of house for just me and you guys will just inherit it anyway. Why spend the money on rent when you can live rent free in your future home?”

I smiled, nodding. “I can’t argue with that. I was just dread trying to combine two houses, that’s all. We’re used to this big old farm house with a basement and you haven’t got a basement. We should really talk about what to keep and toss, etc.”

Dad looked around my office and I wondered what he was thinking. “I think most of your stuff you can actually keep. I mean, some things we’ll have to talk about, but I know there are pieces you don’t want to give up, like the kitchen table.”

“There’s no way we could get rid of Grandma Shaddix’s table…but what about yours? You and mom bought that with wedding money.”

“Not the dining room table, the kitchen table. Actually, the dining room table was from a friend. They were moving and didn’t have room for it, so we took it. I like yours better, despite how well that table has held up over the years. Priscilla and Randi know someone looking for a decent table, so I’ve already arranged to get rid of it and make room for yours. Your offices will be a bit more difficult, as will your guest rooms, but we’ll work it out. My living room set is shot, so since yours is newer, we can ditch mine and use yours. If all else fails, we’ll add another story onto the house.”

I had to laugh when he said that, despite the brief coughing fit that resulted. COPD is a lung disease, after all, and mucous build up is normal. When I’d cleared my throat and relaxed, I still giggled.

“I wonder what the neighbors would say,” I mused, as dad laughed. “I bet there’d be some complaints.”

He nodded, still laughing. “I can hear it now! Their third story blocks my view of the ocean in that direction. Or, their third story blocks my afternoon sun for my dead garden. I mean, I love our neighbors, but there would be some silly complaints.”

I was still giggling as I pictured adding on a third story to dad’s house. I took a deep breath and shook my head. “But you know, combining our over forty years at this farm house with your house is going to be a challenge; might want to get a builder out there to see about an addition.”

Dad laughed again and I couldn’t help but join in. Of course, in the end, we’d merge the houses pretty seamlessly. In the mean time, though, we could joke about adding additions and what to get rid of and keep. It just seems like an epic task to move to the West Coast and combine houses. I almost want to stay, but know we’re doing the thing.

“It’s going to be interesting, isn’t it, moving us out there?” I asked, when we’d composed ourselves for a moment.

“It is,” dad agreed, as I watched Jacoby come up the back walk. “But it will be good, too, I think. You guys need the change and your health will be greatly improved by moving out there. You’ll have the best memory care specialists, the best lung doctors, you name it. And you won’t have to worry about winter or getting snowed in out here.”

I smiled, thinking of that. “No more taking the snowmobile to town, huh?” I joked and dad shook his head, as Jacoby peeked the door open. “Hey hon.”

He smiled, kissing me briefly. “I’m going to shower then we’ll talk about supper.”

I returned the kiss and nodded. “Sounds good. I forgot about supper, actually. Jo and Alan went out for the night and dad and I were having a good talk and laugh back here. Meet you in the kitchen in about ten minutes.”

My husband disappeared upstairs and I helped dad stand. I was going to miss this farm, that’s for sure, but I know we’re doing the right thing in the end. We’ll be closer to dad, the girls, and the grandkids, and my health will improve, even if it’s only slightly. But I’m still going to miss this place.

26

Dad and Jacoby finally emailed us with a moving date. I was helping watch Grandpa’s house and feed his cats while he was in Iowa, and it was nice to know that soon, our family would be together out here. Grandpa was returning the first week in April, since he wasn’t needed in Iowa. My parents were moving on May 31st, which gave them plenty of time to sort the house, get a moving company and make way for their renters.

April seemed to drag since there were no celebrations of any kind for us. Clayton and I worked, raised our kids, and waited for my parents to arrive. I can’t say we even did anything exciting, though we did plan our first family vacation in five years. We were going to take the kids to Iowa at first, but of course, that changed; now, we’re going to Washington, D.C. for a week in June.

“Got an email from Jacoby,” Clayton said, as we sat around one evening the second week of May. “He says everything is on time and they’ll be flying in on May 31st as planned. The truck with their belongings should arrive about three days later.”

I started smiling, I couldn’t help it. I know it’s going to be hard for my parents to be away from their farm, but I think they’ll find they’ve made the right choice. If nothing else, this year winter shouldn’t be so hard on Jimmy’s poor lungs. Dr. Sullivan told him in no uncertain terms that another winter like the one he just had (one minor bout of pneumonia, two of bronchitis, and then the exacerbation where we almost lost him again) could kill him. She’s not normally one to recommend long distance moves for health, but in this case, she told him to pack up the house and skedaddle.

“Good. I can’t wait for them to get here. I know they’re nervous about this, but it’s the right thing to do,” I responded, as my husband nodded. “I just can’t wait to have them out here.”

Clayton nodded, then looked thoughtful. “I don’t mean to sound morbid, but what about their pre-paid funerals and burial plots? Isn’t everything arranged with the funeral home in Mondamin?”

I hadn’t thought about that, I have to admit. I just assumed they’d cancel that stuff and do everything here; it’d certainly be easier. At a loss, I simply shrugged.

“I don’t know; I hadn’t thought about that. But I suppose, if they don’t cancel and move stuff here, we’ll have to deal with that when the time comes. I don’t know the first thing about interstate death, I guess. We’ll have to talk to them about it when they get here. But if they want to be buried where they’ve been at home the last forty five years, we’ll deal with it.” My husband nodded to show that he agreed, but now he had me thinking. “Should I email them about it? Or just leave it for now?”

His brown eyes were thoughtful for a moment, as I heard a bedroom door open upstairs. “I’d wait; maybe talk to your sister first. Hey Rhi.”

I looked toward the stairs and smiled, as Rhiannon came down, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She looked a little pale and green and I frowned.

“Mommy, I got sick,” she whimpered, and we both hurried upstairs. I took her to the bathroom for a bath while Clayton cleaned her bedding; there are some things I can’t handle. Luckily, her pjs were clean. “I don’t feel good.”

Before I got her in the tub, I took her temperature: 101.5. She’s got the flu, it seems, and now we’d have to figure out who was going to take care of her. When she’s sick, she likes to lay around, luckily, so I might be able to get grandpa to watch her.

“I’ll see if great-grandpa can stay with you tomorrow, okay?” I asked, since there was, of course, no way she was going to school. “You’ve got a fever, so let’s get a little bath, okay?”

Clayton returned with some clean pajamas, placing them on the sink. “New bedding is in place; how’s she feeling?”

“Rotten,” I answered, as I ran a soapy rag over her. “She’s got a fever of 101.5, so I’m going to call grandpa to watch her tomorrow. He won’t have to do anything with her, really, and he’s good with sick kids.”

There are times when being a mom kind of sucks; this is one of those times. Clayton went to call my grandpa while I washed my daughter’s hair, then got her rinsed and re-dressed. She was shivering a bit, but I know it won’t last.

“Let’s get you back to bed, baby girl,” I told her, as Corey came out of his room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What’s up Cor?”

Needless to say, it was a long night. Clayton and I didn’t get much sleep, with two kids down with the flu. Grandpa shooed us off to work in the morning, assuring us he could handle the sick ones. I did take Mari to daycare as usual, mostly to keep her out of the germs. She was seven months old and crawling, so I didn’t want to burden grandpa anymore than was necessary.

“You look terrible.”

That gentle voice that always tells it how it is belongs to my Uncle Johnny. I’d forgotten he was coming to the second shop today to drop off supplies and see how things were going. I’m more than capable of running this place, but I appreciate the back up.

“Long night. Corey and Rhiannon came down with the flu and Marianna decided to cry all night for some reason. We gave her gas drops twice, but that didn’t seem to help at all. I’m really hoping daycare doesn’t call to send her home, because grandpa doesn’t need to be alone with three sick kids,” I said around a yawn. “So, what’s up?”

“I got your supplies dropped off; Star’s getting them put away. She was a great choice for an assistant manager.”

I nodded, rubbing my eyes. I wasn’t used to wearing my glasses but there was no way I was going to poke contacts into my eyes. I blinked at Johnny, who smiled for a moment.

“You’re not tattooing today, are you?” he asked, and I looked over my schedule.

“Yeah. I’m booked solid from ten this morning to five tonight; why?”

He laughed a bit, which confused me further. “Look, I’m an errand boy today, since Matt and Zach are closed for training purposes and have no appointments. I’m not training today, since I was delivering orders between the two stores. My job is done, you need some sleep, and I can tattoo for you. I’ve done it before. You lay down on your couch there and get a couple hours of sleep, got me?”

I didn’t bother arguing as I moved to the couch. I don’t even remember falling asleep.

***

I left work an hour early and stopped by the store for some clear pop for the kids. According to grandpa, both were still running fevers, despite fever reducer, and both were still unable to keep anything down. Still run down with exhaustion, I hoped they’d at least sleep tonight. I’d asked grandpa to keep them semi-active today, so they’d have a hope of sleeping tonight. I know it’s tempting to sleep all day, but some movement is good for them.

“They’re watching a movie right now,” grandpa said, as I dragged myself inside. “I cleaned the house from top to bottom and the windows are open, so hopefully, it won’t spread any further. I’ll make supper; you go get some sleep or a bath or something.”

I nodded, once again unable to argue. I knew grandpa would make something fantastic and I could definitely use a long bubble bath. I opened the door to our bedroom quietly, not surprised to see Clayton sleeping. No doubt, he’d called it an early day as well.

“Now, which bubble bath to use?” I pondered, as I drew a warm bath and shed my clothes. This is one of those days when I don’t know how some families do it. We’ve got people we can call on to help us out of any situation, no matter what. “Blackberry, perfect.”

Sinking into the warm water, the bubbles reaching my chin, I tried to relax. It wasn’t so much that it was stressful to have two sick kids; it was more the lack of sleep from the previous night. I mean, I do worry about leaving them with grandpa, of course, given his age, but he’s never had a problem. The water was in serious danger of putting me to sleep and I was happy to let it happen. It won’t be the first time I’ve slept in the tub, after all, and I dare say it won’t be the last.

“Are you hungry, Eliza?” grandpa asked and I startled a bit, sitting up in my now-cold bath. “Didn’t mean to startle you, but supper is ready.”

Yawning, I blinked a moment and then nodded. “Yes, I am hungry. Let me rinse off quick and I’ll be down.”

He nodded, leaving the room (he never actually looked in, of course), as I drained the tub and started the shower. I felt relaxed for once, though I was still tired. When I had rinsed my hair and made sure all of the bubbles were off me, I stepped out, wrapping a towel around my hair and fluffy purple bathrobe around my body. Hopefully, tonight will be less stressful and I can get some damn sleep.

***

The conversation I’d had with Clayton about my parent’s funeral plans wouldn’t leave my brain. I finally called Cilla a couple days later and asked her to advise me.

“I think Clayton’s right: we wait until they get here. I don’t think it’s a decision we get to make, really. I know it’s not easy to transport a body across state lines, but there are plenty of people who will know how to do so legally. But until they get out here, I don’t think we should worry them.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see it over the phone. “I know. It’s just that I think it’s something we need to think about, you know? I know it’s morbid but it does concern me; we’re going to have to deal with it.”

My sister sighed in frustration. “Liza, I love you, but this really isn’t something we should be concerning ourselves with now. It’s important, I agree, but there’s nothing we can do right now. So, until they’re here and settled in, I’d say put it aside. You can always journal about it.”

“I know, but it’s something I can’t stop thinking about, that’s all,” I said, shaking my head. I didn’t have any appointments today, since I was going to be interviewing for a new piercer. “I know I should let it go, but I don’t like leaving things undone.”

I could almost hear the smile in my sister’s voice. “I know, and I’m the same way. But for now, we have to relax and wait until our parents arrive, okay? I know that’s hard as hell, but it’s what we have to do.”

“I’ll try,” I said, as Star peeked my door open. “I’ve got to get to interviews, but we’ll talk later. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” she said, and hung up.

“Your first interview is here,” my assistant manager said, the glitter on her eyelids almost blinding me. “The eye shadow?” I nodded. “Damn; you’re the third person today. I’m not wearing it again. Anyway, here’s Colton.”

I watched as a nervous man of about twenty walked in, smartly dressed in khakis and a nice shirt and tie. He was covered in tattoos and had at least three piercings. As he sat down in the chair in front of my desk, I pushed family concerns aside and put on a charming smile. I know how it is to walk into an interview nervous and I preferred to be put at ease by the interviewer.

“Welcome to Jaded Angel II. My uncles are so creative when they name places,” I said, shaking hands, before taking a seat. I remained relaxed and barefoot, hoping to keep him relaxed as well. “I’m Eliza Smithland it’s nice to meet you. I was going over your resume and it’s very impressive.”

He nodded, smiling, and his shoulders relaxed just a bit. “Thank you, ma’am.”

I waved a hand, laughing a bit. “Ma’am makes me feel old. Just call me Eliza, please. Now, let’s hear why you think I should hire you for the job.”

He gaped a bit, but smiled, relaxing a bit further. Now was his big chance to impress me and he seemed to pick up on that. Leaning back to take notes, I prepared to break a few hearts today; it would at least take my mind off my parents.

27

Want to have a daily headache? Pack a house with Jimmy. I told him we weren’t getting rid of much, just things we don’t need. But I didn’t realize how attached he’d gotten to this house in the years we’ve been here. I have to actually think about this for a moment (hey, I’m old, shut up). We got married in 2000 (45 years ago), but I bought the house the year before and started fixing it up. So, that’s basically 46 years of memories.

All at once, I feel like Eliza when she was getting ready for college: “I don’t wanna go!”

“Jack?” Jimmy asked, his voice gentle as he hugged me from behind. “What’s wrong?”

I looked at our half-packed house and sighed; we had just two weeks until we moved. “Just thinking, that’s all. We’re packing up 46 years of life to move to California. Are we doing the right thing?”

He kissed my neck, causing a shiver to run down my spine. “We are. I don’t want to leave either, honey, trust me. I’d rather tough it out until our final days on this planet. But we both know we can’t do that, right? We want to be closer to our kids and grandkids; my health is just going to get worse if we stay. We have a lot of reasons to go. I don’t want to move, either, but it’s the right thing to do.”

I nodded, turning in his embrace. I knew this was going to be hard, but I didn’t think it was going to be this hard. I mean, it’s just a house, right? But then I realized that it might be ‘just a house’ to some people, but it’s more than that to us.

“What’cha thinking about?” Jimmy asked, as we moved to the couch.

“Remember the first time I brought you out here?” I asked and he laughed, nodding. “You called this place a dump.”

“I did, didn’t I?” he asked, looking around. “Well, I take it back dude. I guess I didn’t see the potential you did.”

“Just think of the fights we’ve had here, the talks we’ve had here, all that stuff. The nights I worried about you in the early years, wondering where you were and if you were okay. I know we’re doing the right thing, Slim, but we’re leaving behind a lot of memories.”

I sat at the kitchen table, my head bobbing from lack of sleep, when I swear I heard the back door open. Standing, I forced myself to the top of the stairs, and then sighed. There was Jimmy, holding onto the railing so tight his knuckles were white. He seemed extra tired tonight, as he sat down to take his shoes off. Disgusted, I went to bed, locking the bedroom door; I was re-thinking our recent wedding now, ready to divorce him.

“Jack!” his voice slurred, as he pounded on our bedroom door. “You locked me out. Open up.”

But I didn’t. Instead, I rolled over and went to sleep, frowning when something thumped in the hallway. The house was only about a third of the way done, but we were living out here anyway; it was livable. It was bound to be a short night anyway, with as out of it as Jimmy was.

“Jack?”

I ignored him, as sunlight streamed in through the window facing the backyard. It was still early, apparently. I returned to sleep, despite repeated calls from my husband.

“Jack?”

I remained asleep, ignoring his pleas.

“Jack? I threw up.”

Good, maybe you’ll get that junk out of your system.

“Jack? I did it again.”

I threw the covers back on the bed and stomped to the door, where Jimmy was lying in a pile of his own puke. “You think I care, Jimmy?”

He looked at me with hurt in his eyes. “I guess you don’t.”

He tried to stand, but fell, clearly still under the influence of whatever was in his system. Shaking my head, I stepped around the mess and took him to the guest bathroom. Once he was stripped down, I threw him in the shower then cleaned up his mess. If this is what I meant by ‘I do’, it’s going to be a long marriage.

“I’m sorry I was so terrible those first few years,” Jimmy said, holding me tight. “God, I was so stupid. Why did you stay married to me?”

I thought about that for a moment, as the memory faded. “I stayed because I love you, Slim. I wanted to divorce you so many times before you finally achieved sobriety, but I couldn’t do it. I’d lay in bed ignoring you out in the hallway until my heart finally broke and I couldn’t take it anymore. I’d clean you up and clean up your mess, then you’d go back out that night and disappear for a few days. But I loved you then just like I love you now.”

Jimmy kissed my cheek. “I love you, too. Now, sit here, I have something to show you.”

He practically bounced out of the living room and into his office, so it must be a good thing. I waited patiently and then looked down when he pressed a coin into my hand. Confused, I looked at it and then I smiled.

“It’s your 40 year sobriety coin, isn’t it?” I asked and he nodded, grinning as he handed me a letter. “A ceremony will be held for group members achieving forty to fifty years of sobriety on Sunday May 14th at two in the afternoon at the Missouri Valley community center.” I turned to him, grinning from ear to ear. “I love you!”

Jimmy kissed me, quickly deepening it and I decided to take him upstairs; further packing could wait.

***

“Reaching the milestone of forty or fifty years of sobriety is something few obtain. Therefore, a ceremony like this is rare, sadly. Therefore, when we have more than five people reach this milestone, we throw on hell of a dry party,” the announcer said and we all laughed. “Tonight, we have eight people with sobriety milestones and that’s a proud moment for Creighton University Rehabilitation Center.”

We all applauded and when we’d quieted, the speaker went on. “Tonight, we’re also going to unveil the new name for the program. The person for whom we’ve named the program does not know that they are the namesake. Normally, the namesake is a business and very involved in the renaming process but that is not the case tonight. So, first we will eat, then we will have the handing out of sobriety coins and certificates followed by the renaming ceremony.”

Of course, everyone wanted to know who the program was being named for. It’s been the Peterson Rehabilitation Program as long as I’ve worked there and it’s unusual for it to be renamed. Nevertheless, we pushed that aside for now as we joined the line for the buffet that had been set up.

“Everything looks good,” Jimmy complained and I couldn’t argue. It was a potluck tonight, and he was right: EVERYTHING looked good. “They seem to like the taco dip I brought.”

Jimmy makes this killer taco dip that he created from scratch. Except for tonight, he tripled the recipe. It’s that good, trust me. If you want the recipe, I’m happy to pass it along, and I suggest you have your favorite dipping chips handy.

“Congrats on 40 years, Jim,” a woman to his left said, smiling. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

He nodded, wiping his mouth. “It does. It hasn’t been an easy 40 years, that’s for sure. How are you doing Sam?”

I don’t actually know many people here; mostly the staff members and maybe one or two of the honorees. Jimmy kept this group pretty close to him and never really spoke about them much outside of meetings. I was fine with that, since that meant that Jimmy had people to turn to outside of their usual circle, but it would be nice to know some of them.

“So, the Creighton grapevine says you guys are finally retiring to California,” Mitchell Louks, the current program director said, coming to sit with us. “I’m finally retiring, too, in June. My wife retired in March and works part time for a friend’s bookstore. I can get some hours there with much less stress.”

Mitchell has been the program director here for forty five years and the program would be lost without him. “Who’s going to take your place?” I asked, reaching for my water glass. It’s a business causal affair tonight and dry, of course.

“I don’t know yet. They’re still searching, I think. But whoever it is will have a big job to do; we’re in the process of introducing some new therapies and such, ones that I don’t think will work, but a younger person might be able to work with. That’s what ultimately spurred me into retiring.”

I nodded. “I know what you mean. Being a medic and nurse has changed a lot over the years and it seems more and more changes are coming. It’s getting to be a bit much to keep up with and I think Jimmy and I are retiring at the right time. His health isn’t as good as it could be, so hopefully the change in climate will do him good.”

“How are you doing, Jim?”

He shrugged, taking a drink of water. “Now that spring is here, aside from the usual seasonal allergies I’m doing fine. It was a very difficult winter for my lungs, though, and I almost didn’t survive the last round. I’m on oxygen around the clock right now, because going without means I de-sat very quickly. So, rather than end up gasping for air or, I just use the oxygen daily. I’m hoping I won’t need this in California, but some things can’t be fixed by moving.”

Mitchell nodded, pushing his empty plate back a bit; we were all stuffed. “That’s the problem with COPD. It surprises me that, with all the cures that have come about in the last forty five years, we can’t cure COPD or the common cold. So many cancers now have cures or at least high survival rates, but some things are still mystifying.”

“I know. And there are so many things that science is close to curing as well,” Jimmy pointed out, finishing his water. He reached for the nearby pitcher and refilled it. “The cancer mom had now has a 90% survival rate, but she was in the 10%. I can take medication to keep the effects of dementia at bay, but it’s not a promise, it’s a short term solution to a long-term problem. And yet, if science is to be believed, they’re about to cure that, too. So many advances and yet so many more to go.”

I was about to comment on that when our attention was returned to the podium. Mitchell excused himself and joined his assistant director, Jo Babcock, and grinned.

“As it seems most everyone has finished eating, we’re going to do things a little differently. We’ll hand out coins and such last, but will begin the renaming ceremony now. Feel free to grab some dessert or more food as we go.”

Dessert was something I didn’t have room for and it seemed, neither did anyone else. Of course, that would change in a bit, but for now, everyone seemed riveted to the podium.

“All right,” Mitchell said, pointing behind him. “Behind me, under this sheet, is the new sign that will soon grace the front entrance of the rehabilitation center. Over the last forty five years, I have seen so many patients come and go through those doors, some more than once. But everyone single one of you has a story and those stories were told in class after class in the Creighton drug and alcohol rehabilitation program.

“Now, after forty five years, I’m going to retire and let someone younger take the reins.” There was a burst of applause and I’m pretty sure Mitchell blushed. “Now, enough about me. As I said, there have been so many stories told in this rehabilitation center. But none has struck me in the way that Jimmy Shaddix, nee Sullivan, did. He came to us for the first time at the tender age of seventeen. He’d run away from home and had so many ids on him, no one knew who he was. His memory was so affected by the coma he’d been in, he couldn’t tell us anything other than his real name.”

I squeezed Jimmy’s hand, smiling to calm him.

“He would come to us four times before he finally got his story finished. Through forty years, he’s battled with his demons but he has remained sober. One slip up here and there does not ruin sobriety; he survived the couple of slip ups he had. But ultimately, he made it to forty years of sobriety with an amazing support system. His husband of forty five years, Jacoby, was sometimes a task master, but it was worth it.

“So, that brings us to tonight. When the board said they wanted to rename the center, only one name came to mind. I didn’t want a business up here, because big business wouldn’t understand the stories told behind those doors. So, in honor of one of our most outstanding patients, who has had a troubled life but made the best of it, we’re going to name the center The James Owen Shaddix Rehabilitation Center!”

Jimmy’s mouth fell open in tandem with mine and then he started to cry. Everyone was on their feet, applauding loudly, while we sat, staring at the sign. His photo was on there and it really did have his name on it. Finally, I got my legs under me and swept him into a hug, as his fellow recoveries surrounded us, congratulating him on this achievement.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, hugging everyone he could. “Mitchell, are you sure about this?”

The director nodded, still grinning. “100%. You are our best success story and you deserve the recognition. You’ve fought so hard to get where you are today and we could not be prouder of you. Your name will be on everything from now on, too. Congratulations, Jim.”

He was still crying as I held him, astoundingly proud. I know we’ve had our ups and downs and problems, but in the end, I couldn’t be more proud of him. Kissing my husband, I shoved him toward the podium at Mitchell’s insistence and waited for his speech. I could not be more in love than I am right now and I’m so proud of him. I can’t wait to call the family tonight and share the good news.

28

"Randi! Look!” I called, pointing to the computer screen. Bethany was crying for all she was worth in my arms and I was about to go insane; Ava wasn’t this fussy as an infant!

Dad had emailed us and said to check his YouTube page. He does this all the time, usually to show us something Jimmy drew or those two doing something silly. But this time, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

“What?” she asked, taking the baby. Bethany’s blue eyes were red and puffy from all her crying and I felt bad. “Oh wow.”

On the screen was a ceremony for Jimmy and others who had made forty years of sobriety. I knew that was coming up, since Jimmy had emailed everyone about it. I was proud of him for this achievement and still felt bad about the grief I gave him as a teenager.

“Your dad now has a rehabilitation center named after him? That’s a huge deal!” she exclaimed, rubbing Bethany’s stomach. This kid has an almost constant stomachache and we’re off to the doctor tomorrow to find out why. “Wow.”

I grabbed my phone and stepped outside, watching Ava play on her swing set. She was almost through kindergarten and growing like a weed.

“Dad! Congrats!” I shouted, as soon as Jimmy picked up. He and Jacoby were working up until the 25th of May and I would expect nothing less from them. “I just saw the video.”

“Thank you,” he said, and he chuckled. “Needless to say, I was stunned. I never once expected anything like this.”

I smiled. “I bet not, but you earned it. What an accomplishment. How does it feel to be sober for forty years?”

I could hear the smile in his voice. “It feels great. How many years are you going on now?”

I had to think about that for a moment. “Six years in February. Randi and I got married May 3rd of 2039 and adopted Ava that year in June. I cleaned up in time to have a child in my life. We moved out here when Ava was two so I’d be away from the old friends and stuff. It’s been a great six years and I’m glad I got clean.”

“I’m proud of you, you know,” he said, quietly, so much that I almost didn’t hear him. “I was really worried about you for a long time. How you graduated high school is beyond me, but you did it. After that, when you really fell apart, that’s when I got most of my grey hairs.”

Normally, I’d have laughed at his little joke, but I knew it was true. “I know and I’m sorry, dad. I don’t know what I was thinking, to be honest with you. I just…I had these people I called friends, you know? They had me try stuff and I was hooked on the good feelings I got from that stuff. I really don’t know what I was thinking, though, and I’m always going to be sorry for that. If I hadn’t found Randi again, I think I’d be dead by now.”

“We’re always going to be grateful for Randi,” he told me, and I nodded. “Maybe, someday, you can attend the forty year ceremony at Creighton as well. I want that for you, Cilla. You’ve got a great life now; don’t ruin it.”

“I won’t,” I promised, looking out over the backyard. Ava was swinging happily, the ocean rolled in and out and I understood what he was saying. “I love you, dad.”

“I love you, too,” he said, and we hung up. I set my phone aside, drawing my legs under me with a smile.

We moved to California because I have family out here. But we also moved because my old habits were starting up again. When Ava turned two, the stress of having a child caught up to me, as did the stress of being in school; I needed a release. I was so close to graduating with my RN and the stresses were mounting. I was still smoking then and an old friend and I ran into each other in downtown Omaha one day. He slipped me some joints and I started smoking those instead. Randi caught me one night and screamed at me about ruining the best things to ever happen to me. When she threatened to leave me over some weed, I knew things were serious. Upon graduation, we continued working at Creighton until UCI called back and we moved; it’s the best thing we’ve ever done.

I returned inside, to see Randi quietly rocking Bethany, who had calmed for now. “Bethany, did you throw up again?” I asked, as my wife looked up at me.

“Both ends. I hope the doctor has some answers tomorrow, because this poor kid is miserable. I dread feeding her again tonight, but she needs to eat.”

“I know. Hopefully it’s an easy fix, too, because I’m tired of her being so fussy all the time,” I said, sinking onto the couch. Ava came inside and plopped down next to me, yawning; I love Saturdays in his house. “How are you Ava?”

She shrugged then I heard her stomach growling. While she blushed, Randi and I laughed. “I’m hungry.”

“I noticed. Go get a cheese stick or a piece of fruit,” I told her. We let her have junk, just not much. Randi and I used to have the worst diets and when Ava came into the picture, we decided to change that. There’s junk food in this house, but we concentrate on fruits and vegetables more than anything. “Or some vegetables.”

Thankfully, she has never balked at her diet. I suppose it’s because she’s had this diet since she was on solid foods, but it’s still nice. When she goes to a friend’s house, she often requests that I pack her a little cooler with her favorite snacks in it. I thought it was rude of her at first, but she wouldn’t go without it, so I decided not to fight that battle.

“That looks good,” Randi commented, as Ava sat down with a bowl of blueberries, strawberries, and pineapple. “I think I’m hungry now, too.”

In the end, I got both of us a bowl of mixed fruit. I always buy the fruit and cut some up for Ava to have as a snack, leaving the rest to be cut up as needed. Indeed, it was a great snack. In another month or so, Bethany will start on solid food and will get some small pieces of fruit as an introduction. Hopefully, she’ll love it as much as we do.

“So, did your folks ever decide where to live?” Randi asked, as Bethany let out a burp and then spit up a bit; that’s what bibs are for.

“They’re going to take grandpa up on his offer. After all, they inherit the house upon his passing, so they might as well live there now. I guess he’s got most of the paperwork done to transfer the deed over and they’ll finish it when everyone arrives. The hard part is going to be getting the two houses combined. Grandpa’s selling his furniture set because it’s starting to fall apart, but some college kid will like it, so that’s not a problem, but other stuff might be more difficult.”

Randi had Bethany’s chin cleaned up and settled back into her rocking pattern, her empty bowl on the lamp table beside her. “Makes sense. Though it’ll be interesting to see how they do living permanently with your grandpa. Not that it can’t work, but I know your parents and they value their alone time; your grandpa’s retired and around a lot.”

I laughed a bit, but knew she had a point. “True. But grandpa is also part of different social groups. Though I do wonder how my parents will handle the weekly dinner he hosts. At noon on the dot every Wednesday, grandpa has dinner on the table and about ten of his friends come to eat. They spend the afternoon sitting around talking, playing cards, etc., that should be interesting.”

Randi started laughing and for a second I didn’t think she’d be able to stop. Bethany woke up crying, so I took my turn with her, finally placing her in her swing. Sometimes, you just have to let them cry it out. Still sputtering with laughter, my wife hugged me, kissing my cheek.

“I cannot wait for your parents to get here and get settled in,” she laughed. “It’s going to be fun having them close again, you know that?”

I couldn’t disagree, that’s for sure. Having my parents close would be great not only because they’re a ton of fun, but because they wouldn’t be missing out on so much with their grandkids. Nodding, her laughter a bit contagious, I hugged her back, kissing her. It needs to be May so my parents get here faster.

***

“You sure things are going okay?” I asked, as I spoke to Jacoby a couple of days before they’d be leaving. The hospital was having a going away party for them tomorrow, and I wish we could be there. But we’ll be having a welcome home party for them, so we’ll have to celebrate here. This will coincide with a celebration for Jimmy’s 40th year of sobriety. “How’s dad doing?”

“I’m sure,” he assured me, chuckling a bit. “And your dad is doing fine, by the way. His medication continues to work well, which is a relief to us all. The warmer spring weather is working in his favor as well, which is also nice. He had his final visits with Dr. Magnus and Dr. Sullivan today, as well as his cardiologist. So far, everything is doing fine and he’s cleared to head out. He’s a little nervous, of course, but so am I. Dr. Sullivan kept him on the CPAP and the oxygen, but we expected that. Overall, though, he got a clean bill of health and a list of recommended physicians out in HB and Los Angeles.”

I nodded, glancing at the clock; I had to pick Ava up in about an hour and then we’d have to get Bethany to her appointment with the allergy doctor. “That’s good. Will he still need the oxygen out here?” I asked, as I put another bowl of fruit away for Ava. Since Randi had to work and grandpa had his Wednesday group over, she was going to have to come to the doctor with me, so I got together an activity bag.

“We don’t know yet. It will largely depend on what his doctors out there want to do. Sometimes, the drier climate can help and sometimes, the damage is done. At this point, we just have to wait and see. His heart is good, though, so as long as he keeps on his meds, he won’t need a pacer any time soon. We’ll see what the move does to him, of course, but it looks like your dad is heading into this pretty healthy.”

“That’s great!” I said, as Bethany started babbling over the monitor. She doesn’t really talk yet, but her sounds can be amusing, to say the least. “Getting excited?”

“It will come, I think, but right now we’re so busy with packing and arranging the moving truck and stuff that we’re too exhausted to be excited. Speaking of which, can you swing by Joe’s house? We sent some stuff ahead that we’ll need before the moving truck comes, but I don’t think he should be lifting those boxes. They’re scheduled for delivery tomorrow.”

“I have to work tomorrow but will make sure someone is over there. I think Zach might be free, if nothing else,” I said, as I finished packing books and coloring books for Ava. She’s good at sitting still, but I’ll need to talk to the doctor and I need her quiet. “Good luck with the house and call if you need anything.”

He laughed a bit, but I knew he was smiling. “Will do, honey. Tell the girls we love them and can’t wait to see them.”

Assuring him that I would do just that, we hung up and I went for Bethany. The schedule was going to be tight and I’d called the school ahead to make sure Ava was outside at promptly 1525.

“Hey Baby Girl,” I said, as I leaned over the crib, smiling. “Oh. Another nasty diaper huh?”

Sighing, I placed her on the changing table, snapped on some gloves (yes, her diapers are that bad) and set to work. Sure enough, it was almost a poop explosion, but thankfully contained to the diaper.

“The doctor had better have some answers for us, huh?” I asked, once she was re-dressed. I used hand sanitizer, made sure the diaper bag was packed and then we were ready to go. “All right, Bethany, let’s go get your sister and get to the doctor.”

Once she was buckled into her carrier, which she seemed to be quickly outgrowing, I got her buckled into the car. Hopefully, Ava is waiting as I requested. Her school is usually pretty good, but they have screwed up a time or two.

Thankfully, Ava was waiting as promised and I was quick to buckle her into her booster seat. “How was your day?” I asked, heading into the throng of parents leaving the school.

“It was good. We got to color pictures and I got to paint today,” she said, waving her hands as she spoke; just like Zachy. “Also, we had a great snack and we learned about numbers today. Numbers are boring, since I already know my numbers. Mrs. Hanson gave me something else to do, though, so that made it better.”

Laughing, I made my way over to the clinics at UCI for the appointment. Hopefully, we get good news from the doctor and can figure out how to settle this poor kid’s stomach. If not, we’re going to have one miserable kid on our hands for a lot longer than I care for.

29

Pulling into the parking lot at work, I glanced over at Jacoby. Now, as things in Iowa are wrapping up, I’m starting to have second thoughts. I know this is going to be the right move for us, but at the same time, I’m having some serious doubts about this.

“You okay?” Jacoby asked, as we linked hands to walk inside. Today was our going away party but I didn’t feel ready.

“Yeah, just…sad, perhaps? Having second thoughts? I know we’re doing the right thing, but I’m not ready.”

My husband hugged me, gently kissing my cheek as we walked into the ER. We went right to the cafeteria on first floor and I put on my best smile for my friends. We were going to miss everyone but we knew we had to do this. Jacoby’s already been accepted to work part time at a bookstore in HB, and I’m thinking about working with Clayton at his photography studio.

“Congratulations, guys,” Sean said, giving us both big hugs. “I know you’re probably going to work out there, but we’re losing you to retirement, so this party is for that.”

“We appreciate it,” I said, smiling. I think the only people working in ER today are the people who haven’t worked here for 30+ years. No joke. “Hollister!”

I think it’s fair to say that all of our close friends were here. Hollister, Randy, Sean, Sean P., Racheal from dispatch, Racheal the flier, everyone is here. I can’t even count the number of people that are here right now.

“Congrats guys!” Racheal from dispatch said, hugging us both tightly. “We are going to miss you guys! Now that you’ve retired, I think the rest of us are going to drop like flies.”

I had to laugh, which of course caused a coughing fit. The oxygen was still present, though the pack was thankfully lightweight. No one thought twice of my coughing fit and I soon re-gained my breathing. I moved through the throngs of people, trying to have fun, and forget what was going to happen in two days.

“Congrats, Jim,” Tony said, clapping me on the back. We’re a bit greyer these days and a bit heavier set as well. Tony has aged very gracefully, though, and honestly doesn’t look his 65 years. “Ready to spend the rest of your days on the beach?”

I smiled, but shook my head. “Yes and no. I am excited to be closer to the grandkids, maybe do well for my lungs, but I’d so much rather stay here. It’s so odd, you know? I’ve wanted nothing more than to move to California and now that it’s happening, I don’t want to go. I know that Alise and her husband will take great care of the farm, they’ll maintain our hard work in the gardens, and she’ll send us a yearly picture of Penny’s tree; but it’s not the same. I know you guys are retiring, too, and heading for warmer climes as well, but it’s harder than I thought.”

He nodded, sipping at a cup of coffee. “I know. Annie and I finally made our decision to move to Mississippi. We loved it when we went down for Georgia’s wedding and we know she’s not moving back home. We can live in the rural area down there, on about two acres off the beaten path. She’s on the national transplant list, so we’ll be covered down there. We’re working on our insurance and stuff right now, but we’re selling the house and moving in June.”

“That’s great! I know you’ll love it down there, being closer to your daughter and her wife. That was a lot of our motivation, too; we’ve missed a lot with our grandkids and we don’t want to miss anything else. Our grandchildren love the farm, but we need to be closer to them. Plus, dad’s willing us the house, so we don’t have to start over. It’s the right thing to do but it makes me nervous.”

Tony nodded, as Racheal the flier came up to us. “Nervous about moving back home?” she asked, handing me a can of Pepsi. I nodded. “I would be, too. It’s going to be odd making way for the young pilots; I met your replacement on the chopper and he’s a cocky little thing. I told him I was the senior pilot and that if he got too cocky or tried to show off, I’d have Sean fire is ass so fast he wouldn’t know what hit him.”

I laughed loudly at that, because I knew she wasn’t kidding. “How did that sit with him?”

Laughing, she shook her head. “He looks at me with these big blue eyes and goes ‘gotcha, ma’am’. Sean was nearby and burst out laughing as soon as it was polite. I am willing to tolerate these new kids but I will not tolerate their attitudes.”

Tony and I belted out laughter once again. I’m going to miss my friends and I know that while I’ll make new friends in California, I won’t make friends like this.

“I’m going to miss you guys,” I gasped out, as Racheal rubbed my back. “If for no other reason than the laughs, and my inability to breathe around you all.”

Just before an alarmed Jacoby called a code on me, I regained my breathing, assuring him I was fine.

“I think our friends are a danger to your health,” he quipped, which, of course, caused another fit of laughter. “And so am I.”

I managed to recover from the laughter in a short amount of time and finally made my way to the refreshment table. There were two large sheet cakes for us and assorted snacks and beverages. Coffee was my vice, of course, so I got a cup of that with two creamers in it. The CEO of the hospital was here, along with other assorted higher-ups in the chain of command, and I figured there’d be some sort of speech about us before we were allowed to continue mingling.

“Good afternoon everyone,” Charles Stankey, the current CEO said, smiling. There was a small microphone set up at the front of the room and we all turned to face him. “First, I’d like to congratulate Jimmy and Jacoby Shaddix on their retirement from Creighton. It’s great to see such dedicated workers and we’re sad to see them leave. I took over as CEO about ten years ago, and I’ll never forget what the departing CEO Edwin Allistar told me about Jimmy: “Charles,” he said, looking quite stern. “That Jimmy Shaddix; watch out for him. He’ll give you grey hair.”” We all paused to laugh, because it was true. “I asked to what he meant and he said that Jimmy was one of our best workers but sometimes bent the rules a bit. I said that was fine with me as long as he didn’t bend them out of proportion and I didn’t have to fire him.”

That caused a lot of laughter, though I knew what Edwin really meant. It was all in the past, though, and in the last years before he retired, we’d gotten along quite well. He’d apologized for firing me out of spite when I had the worst problems with my mental health, and I’d apologized for all the trouble I’d caused.

“But all kidding aside, you two are some of the best medics we’ve ever had. I know, Jimmy, that you struggled mightily in the beginning. But it’s a testament of your strength that here you are, 45 years later, retiring from a job that you have loved. You’re easily one of my best pilots, nurses, and medics I’ve had the pleasure to work with. You’ve formed lifelong friendships and a workday with you felt less like work and more like a day spent with great friends. You and Jacoby raised two beautiful girls and now have five amazing grandchildren to spoil.”

I smiled, nodding, as I held Jacoby’s hand; we loved our grandkids and life wouldn’t be complete without them.

“We have developed a tradition here at Creighton in the last several years for our employees upon retirement. Of course, your pictures are already in the 40 plus years display case of employees and you got your raises for that. You’ll be drawing on your retirement account now, which you’ve worked so hard for. But we also want to acknowledge you for all your hard work and dedication in a more permanent way. Therefore, we’re going to start a scholarship fund in your names. The focus will be on students who wish to pursue a medical field related to EMT, Paramedic, nursing, piloting, or flight nursing and who are facing hard times. When I first started at Creighton years ago as a doctor fresh from medical school, I heard Jimmy’s story and couldn’t believe he’d done so well. In that spirit, I want to give other kids like Jimmy a chance to make it. The first recipient will be chosen on June 1st, 2045 for the 2045-2046 school year. We’ve got ten applicants to choose from and we know that number will grow over the years. Congratulations on your retirement guys and best of luck in your future pursuits.”

Everyone in the room applauded even though I was still stunned by the scholarship fund. I was so pleased to hear about it, hoping it would help others like me, and I couldn’t be happier. I hugged my husband, kissing him, as a camera clicked. The formal part was over and now it was time to mingle. Putting thoughts of the next couple of days out of my head, I got in line for a piece of cake, in need of relaxing for a couple of hours. I smiled as I thought about the future medics the scholarship would help; maybe there was another me out there somewhere.

***

I must’ve checked my suitcase five times by now. Finally, I zipped the large case shut, thinking how final that sounded. I double checked my carryon as well, and finally, I took my bags downstairs. I tried not to look at the stacks of boxes in our living room, tried not to think how empty this house looked. I hadn’t seen it this empty since we moved in. Sighing, I put my bags near the door, then returned to the living room, settling into my chair and firing up my laptop. I’d had one final appointment with my doctors today and was pleased: Dr. Magnus gave me a good report, Dr. Sullivan said if I stay on the oxygen I’ll be fine for now, and Dr. Marsden said my heart is fine for now. The pacer is on hold for the time being and I couldn’t be happier.

But as I looked around the living room, I thought about the first time I saw this place. Jacoby took advantage of a day trip I’d earned and wanted to show me his future home. Of course, at the time, I didn’t know it’d be our house; he’d bought it because he was tired of the city.

Looking at the house before me, I glanced at Jacoby. We had an uneasy friendship, but since he was the only person who gave a shit about me, I let him be around me. He wanted to find my family, but I didn’t know exactly who I was yet, just that my name was Jimmy Sullivan. Apparently, any family I had was in hiding, because he sure couldn’t find them.

“Really, Jacoby? You bought this shithole of a house?” I asked, glancing over at him. “Wow. I always thought you were smart.”

I’ve gotten a little mouthier since I’ve been in rehab. Thirty days down, sixty to go! But I’m going to do it this time, since Jacoby is helping me get a degree as an EMT and I find I like the work. Meanwhile, as I gawked at the ruin of a house in front of me, Jacoby was grinning.

“Sure did. It cost me a whopping $2,000. Now, of course, I took out more than that, because I’m going to have this thing rebuilt from the inside out. I’m starting with $10,000 to do the outside and the floors and stuff; I can’t let this awesome farmhouse go to waste.”

Biting my lip, I tried not to laugh. “Can we go inside?” I asked, and Jacoby shook his head.

“Uhm no. We might fall through the floors.”

Taking my new friend by the shoulders, I shook him a bit. “Look, I’m a drug addicted fool with no family, but even I’m not this dumb. Jacoby, this is a poor choice. You have not used good judgment in this matter. This house is falling to pieces, do you see that? I know, I know, you’re some little history buff, I get that. But some things are not meant to be saved, got me? Use that spare money, get a bulldozer, knock it down and make it your dream home.”

Looking slightly offended, Jacoby shook his head. “Watch me, Slim,” he challenged me, using his irritating new nickname for me. “I’m going to make this my dream house without tearing it down. You watch.”

And so Jacoby had done just that. I looked at this house, remembering what I faced on that first day: a two story, square farm house, with peeling white/grey paint, no trees worth having, a brown yard, and a porch that was too slanted and weak to walk on. But Jacoby had borrowed money here and there and indeed this was now our dream house. I remember the day trips I’d earn in rehab before I graduated the first time. We’d come out here and he’d show me the blueprints and the progress he was making. When we first moved in, I apologized for the rude comments I’d made that first day.

Tomorrow it would all be over: at four, Tony was going to drop us off at the airport (our trucks would be with the moving trucks) and we’d fly to California one last time. We’d start our new lives in retirement living with my dad, closer to our kids and grandchildren; we’d be starting a whole new life. I think, as much as I’ve begged Jacoby to return home with me, we always thought we’d retire to our little farm just like Hank and Eleanor.

On a whim, I dashed a quick text to Jacoby that I was going out, grabbed my camera and headed for my truck. I needed pictures and this was my last chance to get them. Heading up the gravel first, I took pictures of friend’s houses, Hank and Eleanor’s house (now belonging to the Nash’s, of course), you name it. Then, I drove out to the black top, went two miles south and turned left. Entering the little cemetery, I drove to the south west corner, got out, and sat on the ground.

“Hey mama, dad,” I said, snapping a photo of their headstone. “I miss you. I know we’ve talked in my dreams about what’s going on, but I wanted to talk in person. I don’t know when or if we’ll be back to visit, though we’ll try. I know we’re doing the right thing, but why am I getting cold feet?”

Of course, there was no answer and I hadn’t expected one. Eleanor was one to visit me in my dreams rather than appear to me when I was awake. But I felt better just sitting here, looking over the headstone I’d helped pick out. The people who had been the only parents I knew for twelve years had been dead for more years than I cared to count.

“I know this is the right choice for us, mom, I really do. My health should improve out there and as long as this dementia medication keeps working with the oxygen, my memory is good. But it’s a short term solution to a long term problem; I know that someday, I’m going to forget everything. And I don’t want to forget you guys or Jacoby. So, just let me know that we’re doing the right thing, okay? That we’re not just riding off into the sunset only to turn around and return at sunrise.”

I kissed my fingers and gently placed them on the headstone before I stood. As cliché as it sounds, I felt a little breeze wrap around me and I knew I had my answer. As I got into my truck, I swear I saw the pair of them waving at me from under a nearby tree, blowing me kisses. Smiling, I waved back and returned to the house, excited now to think of the new adventure waiting for me.

30

May 31st, 2045

Standing in the baggage area of Los Angeles International Airport, I watched for my parents. I couldn’t believe it was time for them to finally move here. I know the last few days have been difficult for them, saying goodbye to everyone they’ve grown to love out there. And I know that living in town is going to be hard for them as well, but I’m so excited to have them out here.

The kids were excited as well. Marianna was almost two now and even she seemed to pick up on the excitement. Finally, I heard the conveyor whir to life and I grinned, seeing my parents at the top of the escalator. Dad was still using his oxygen, but hopefully that would change when he got settled out here.

“Dad!” I called, waving my arms at them. I’m as tall as Jimmy and just as damn skinny, even after three kids. “Dad!”

Finally, they caught my eye and I grinned, waiting for them to get their suitcases. I hugged them tight as soon as I could, listening to Jimmy laugh a bit.

“Welcome home!” I shouted, and they both laughed a bit, but they were smiling. “How was your flight?”

They both shrugged as we moved for the conveyor and finally the parking lot. “It was fine. A bit of turbulence over L.A., but that was it,” Jacoby said, donning his sunglasses. “The weather is a bit hot today; it was about 57 when we left Omaha.”

I nodded, grinning, as I hit the remote start on my car. It won’t cool it down a lot, but it every little bit helps. “Yeah, but you’re in Southern California now, remember. It’s going to be a bit warmer than you’re used to, I’m afraid. I’m just glad you’re here for good now. The kids were so excited when we told them.”

That seemed to make their faces light up, but I could see that they were still unsure. Of course, this is a big change for them and I think we’d all be a bit uncertain. And don’t think I’ve forgotten about that little matter of their funerals, either. However, I’m not going to bring that up until it’s time.

“When does the moving truck arrive?” I asked, as we climbed into the car. I had today off, so I could help them with anything they needed.

“Should be here Saturday,” Jimmy answered, yawning a bit. They got an early flight out of Omaha, putting the time at just after one in the afternoon Omaha time. “Sorry.”

“No worries. Your flight left at what? 5? I’d be tired, too,” I sympathized, pulling into traffic. “I’ll take you to grandpa’s, then?”

They nodded and I almost laughed at how tired they looked. They’re not getting any younger, of course, so travelling isn’t what it used to be. I was just glad that, after this, they won’t have travel any longer, unless they want to go back to Iowa for a visit.

By the time I pulled into grandpa’s an hour later, both were practically snoring. I hated to wake them, but they could sleep once we got their stuff inside. I know they shipped some things ahead and those arrived yesterday, so they’ll have a few things of their own until the moving truck arrives.

“Come on guys,” I said, gently shaking Jimmy. He started a bit, but finally got his wits about him and got out of the car, as Jacoby stretched. “You can take naps once we get your stuff inside.”

I laughed when they flipped me off, as we took their suitcases inside. Grandpa was waiting and hugged them both as they came in. I let them go upstairs to settle in on their own, looking around the entryway. Already, there were changes being made, since I knew my folks would add some of their own touches to the place. Grandpa had someone coming on Saturday to buy his furniture and it was odd to think the old set would be gone. It was also strange to see that some of the family pictures he’d once had up were down, and I noticed there were fewer pictures of grandma on the walls now.

“It’s okay for me to take her down now,” he assured me, squeezing me into a sideways hug. I couldn’t help how I felt, though. “I’m not erasing her from the house, just making way for Jimmy and Jacoby to put their own pictures up. It isn’t going to be easy to combine these two houses, you know. They have over forty years of memories they left behind and they’re trying to bring that all out here to me. We’ll make it work, of course, but it won’t be easy. In the spirit of doing that, I had to make some changes.”

I nodded, but the house still didn’t feel right to me. I know we were all happy they were out here now, but perhaps moving in with grandpa hadn’t been the right choice. I mean, I know they’re going to inherit the house someday, but perhaps starting over with their own place would’ve been right.

“Don’t worry, Eliza,” grandpa assured me, as the door to my parent’s room opened. “Everything will turn out for the best in the end, I promise.”

“It’s not my fault you forgot to pack underwear!”

I glanced toward the stairs, noting that one of my parent’s infamous fights was starting; although this fight would probably be short lived, since it seemed to relate to Jimmy’s packing abilities.

“I thought you were double checking everything,” Jimmy protested, as they came down the stairs, clearly oblivious to grandpa and me. “You were so gung-ho on approving what went in the boxes and what went in the suitcases I thought you had everything under control. So, therefore, it’s not my fault some things were forgotten.”

Grandpa looked like he was about to start laughing so we quietly escaped into the kitchen. “You want to live with them or me?” I asked, as we both started laughing. “I mean, it’s not too late.”

Shaking his head, he smiled. “Your grandma and I used to fight over stuff like that. It was completely ridiculous, but we were so serious about it at the time, you know? It will be kind of nice to have life in this house again, even if it is their petty fighting.”

“Well, excuse me while I go to fucking Wal-Mart now for new fucking underwear.”

Oh, Jimmy really was in rare form today. I jumped when the front door slammed shut, slammed open, and slammed shut again. Glancing at my grandfather, his eyes were wide and he looked a bit surprised.

“I wonder if I should’ve gotten a stronger front door. I didn’t realize they were so good at slamming doors.”

I nodded, wondering whose car they were going to take. I remembered, then, that I’d given them my keys so they could access the car for unloading. Looks like I’m staying until they get back.

“I learned from the best as a teenager,” I told him, which caused more laughter. “Trust me, I could almost shake the house down with a door slam; clearly, my parents were great teachers.”

Grandpa nodded, shaking his head. “Well, since they have your car, want to hang out for a while? I’d offer you a ride home, but my ride was sold a while back, so you’d have to walk.”

Laughing once again, I accepted his offer. We moved into the living room and I sat down on his couch, wondering why I was feeling so wistful about an old couch that had lost its comfort.

“It’s going to be strange to see my parent’s furniture in here,” I commented, as Grandpa reached into a little mini-fridge near his chair. I accepted a bottle of water and took a long drink. “Though I’ll admit their couch is more comfortable.”

He nodded, reclining a bit. He was keeping his reclining chair, since it had a remote for it, but otherwise, the furniture was going. “It will, but I’m looking forward to the changes. I’ve missed having your dad around and while I’m sure this wasn’t exactly how he’d planned to spend his retirement, I’m ready for it. The house has been lonely without your grandma around the last year and some. I mean, I have Clancy and Abba, but their lives are winding down and while I could’ve gotten new cats, human company is still preferred.”

I should mention that Eleanor and Oliver flew out with my parents. Word is that they didn’t much care for the trip and I haven’t seen them since I loaded their carrier into my backseat. Presumably, they’re in hiding somewhere.

“At least you’ve had us nearby for the last few years,” I told him and he nodded, taking a long drink of his water. “But it will be nice having my dads around. I’ve missed having them so close by the last few years.”

Grandpa nodded, rubbing his face a bit. “Just give them time to settle in. I think if everyone goes visiting right away, it will become overwhelming for them. They didn’t do this lightly, after all; they took time to consider their options and make an informed move. So, we should all give them time to settle in. I emailed everyone with that information right before you got here.”

“I can’t believe you got me purple underwear!”

I guess my parents are back from Wal-Mart.

“It’s all they had! It’s not my fault this Wal-Mart doesn’t have the selection you got used in CB! Good grief! You only have to wear them until Saturday and then the moving truck will be here. Go take a nap, Captain Crabby Ass.”

Shaking my head, I shared another good laugh with grandpa as my parent stormed upstairs. “Their first day here and they’re already fighting. You know, we have a spare room if you want it,” I offered watching his face.

“I’ll let you know how the first week goes,” he deadpanned, shaking his head. “Do I have any new grey hairs?”

I laughed as I stood, collecting my keys and purse; it was time to be heading home. “Not yet, but I bet you will by tomorrow. I better get going since Clayton’s got a photo shoot coming up in another hour. Marianna can’t really go along. But call if you need anything or want some down town from the odd couple up there.”

“I will,” he promised, hugging me tight. “Don’t be a stranger, though, okay?”

I nodded, pulling away and heading out to my car. A few clouds had moved in and it smelled like it could rain. I did miss the summer storms of my youth and can’t get those here as often. It does storm from time to time, but not very often. The few times we took the kids to Iowa in the summer, Corey would always get scared with the thunder and couldn’t understand how people lived with the storms.

“How are your folks?” Clayton asked, when I walked in the house ten minutes later. I kissed his cheek, smiling as Mari waved at me from the table.

“Mommy!” she called, trying to get out of her booster seat. “I’m stuck!”

“They’re good. Already arguing, but that’s nothing new for them. Hey Mari, I missed you! How are you stuck?”

“Daddy buckled me in!”

Laughing, I unhooked the lap belt, then took her into my arms for a tight hug. I had finally started on my stomach tattoos, and was glad we weren’t having anymore kids. I love the three we have, but can’t see me having anymore than that.

“I hafta go potty!”

She wiggled from my arms and I followed her to the downstairs bathroom. Potty training had gone far quicker with her for some reason, but I wasn’t complaining. When she was finished I smiled at her for a moment, wondering if this is how my parents felt as we grew up.

“Grandpa’s here?” she asked, as we walked back into the kitchen.

“They’re here, but we’re going to give them a couple of days to rest, okay?”

She nodded, running to the backyard to play as her sibling came home. There was a second of chaos as they dropped their bags and ran for the backyard, but I didn’t let it bother me today. I was just happy to have my parents home in California and hoped they’d made the right choice.

31

“Is that it?” I asked, as the last of the movers left our house.

“Yes, sir. We’ll see you in California on Saturday; if that changes, we’ll let you know.”

Jimmy and I stood in our yard and watched as the semi-truck filled with over forty years of our life pulled out, ready to hit the road for California. With a sigh, I returned to our now-empty house, where only our suitcases and carry-on bags remained. With Jimmy, I walked upstairs and stood in our bedroom, looking out over the backyard.

“We’re doing the right thing, aren’t we?” he asked, his voice wobbling a bit. I nodded, biting my lower lip. “I can’t believe you more or less re-built this place from scratch and now it will be occupied by someone else. I know the winters were getting to be too much and I know my health will improve, but I don’t want to leave our home, Jacoby. I want to stay home.”

I held him for a moment, my emotions a pretty direct match for his. “Me, too, Jimmy, but we’re doing the right thing. We need to be closer to the girls, your dad, and the grandkids. Your health isn’t going to hold up out here. I’d like to have one winter where you aren’t fighting for your life in the hospital. I know that California isn’t going to be paradise or anything; your health is still going to decline over the years. But you’re going to be better off out there.”

I heard a little meow and I turned to see Eleanor wander in with Oliver right behind her. Both looked confused and I felt for them. They would fly with us, since we were not giving them up; we hoped Abba and Clancy wouldn’t object to their new life partners.

“Remember when we got married?” Jimmy asked, and I nodded, as we moved into Eliza’s old room. “It wasn’t even a legal marriage, but we did it anyway. It’s hard to believe that it’s so common now, you know? Randi and Priscilla will never know the struggles we went through for equality.”

“I remember you sitting in that damn rocking chair right before you had Cilla and Penny,” I said, laughing a bit. Oh it was so hard to put Penny’s urn in a box. The movers were threatened to within an inch of their life if that urn broke and if they lose the picture album with her only pictures in it, they will die. “That damn chair caused us so much grief.”

I laughed with Jimmy, thinking how it wasn’t very funny a few years ago. “I hated that chair. I was glad when we finally got rid of it,” he remarked, as we moved into Cilla’s room. “Remember the window alarms?”

I belted out a good laugh then, nodding. “Oh god. Is that why we have so much grey hair? The door and window alarms, all because she’d sneak out and get drunk or high or arrested; I can’t believe we lived through that.”

He nodded, and I knew he carried some guilt about that. “I’m glad she got clean and stayed clean…it’s hard to do that after the first rehab stint. But I’m proud of her and that time made us better parents. Remember the screaming fights those two would have?”

We were walking down the stairs now, toward the living room. “And how the house would shake when someone slammed a door? I thought the house was going to come down around us before those two graduated high school.”

“I’ll never forget the nights you and I spent cuddling in a chair or on the couch. Or bringing the kids home.”

“Or you passing out because you couldn’t breathe. The first time the girls really saw that, I think it sunk in how fragile life can be. They were so scared. I swear the boot prints of the medics are still ingrained in the wood,” I said, as Jimmy nodded, looking out our front window. The gardens were just starting to bloom, and we had arranged for their care while Alise and her husband settled in. “I’m going to miss our gardens, Jim. I know we can grow all of this out at your dad’s but I’m still going to miss our gardens. We’ve worked so hard on them…how can we leave all of this?”

Shrugging, Jimmy grabbed his camera from the kitchen counter. I followed him outside and smiled as he photographed our gardens, Penny’s tree, as much of our property as he could. He got the house inside and out, and I smiled; we’d have our memories to take with us.

“Ready?”

I looked over at Tony and nodded, as the reality of what we were doing finally settled in. Locking up, I put the keys in a lock box outside, made sure we had everything, then stood to look at my house one last time. It didn’t matter how much money I’d sunk into making it a home; what mattered was the life we made there and the kids we raised. Eleanor and Oliver were howling in their carriers, obviously aware that something was changing.

“I’m going to miss this place,” Jimmy said, wiping his face. He took one more picture of Penny’s tree, now big and providing great shade for our yard. We’d even had the play set dismantled and sent to California. It’s only thirty one years old, but it was in great shape. “And Penny’s tree; I can’t believe how big it is. Hard to believe she’d be thirty one this year, Jack, isn’t it?”

I nodded, looking wistfully at the maple tree, and impulsively reached up and grabbed a leaf. Finally, I nodded at Tony and climbed into his truck, once our things were loaded into the bed of his truck. Jimmy sat in back with the cats and I watched the house until it was long gone from sight.

***

Right now I’m starting to wish we’d stayed in Iowa. The moving truck just arrived and the moving team is getting all of our stuff off the truck and into Joe’s house. His furniture went this morning to the family that bought it, but we’re just now realizing how much smaller his living room is than ours. I don’t think everything is going to fit.

“We can put some of the smaller boxes and stuff in the den if need be,” he said, as he helped me check labels. Some stuff was obvious to where it needed to go, but other stuff was marked “office” or “living room” and that was the stuff headed for the den.

“This is going to be a nightmare,” Jimmy muttered, directing the couch movers into the living room. “Just make it fit for now. We’ve got friends coming later to help us arrange things.”

The movers nodded, and I directed another mover to our bedroom. I would be glad when that damn truck was empty, but that was going to be a while. Not only did they have the semi to unload, but we didn’t sell all of our winter toys. We sold the blades for the trucks, the snow blower, and the riding mower to Alise and her husband, but we kept the four wheelers and snowmobiles. Where are we going to go snowmobiling? I don’t know. But I know there are places around here that are open to us. We kept the trucks and the trailers (those were a BITCH to move), so we should be good for a while.

“Upstairs, second door on your left,” I said, feeling like a robot. We’d been at this for an hour, and I hoped we were done soon.

“Mr. Shaddix? We’re getting ready to unload your trucks and stuff. Where should we put the outdoor stuff?”

Fuck. I didn’t think about that; Joe doesn’t have a shed…we’re going to have to change that. Looking at my father-in-law and feeling like a damn heel, I sighed.

“Uhm…can we borrow your garage?” I asked, my voice quiet. I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much, but it is.

“Of course. I don’t use it anyway,” he said, quite cheerfully. He patted my back for a second to calm me. “Don’t worry about it. Put the four wheelers and stuff there and then we’ll figure out a more permanent location. It will all fit, so don’t worry.”

I nodded, feeling relieved. “Sorry about the poor planning on that one. We’re used the farm and all,” I muttered but Joe just smiled and nodded.

After three hours of directing traffic, it was finally over. I collapsed onto my couch, glad to have something from home for this transition. I know we’re going to be okay here, but it’s going to take a while.

“The guys will be over in another hour,” Jimmy announced, laying on top of me. Any other day it would’ve been welcome, but I was hot, sweaty, and tired. “Sorry.”

I felt bad, as he moved to another couch, but I was too tired to really care. “Sounds good. I’m sorry, honey, I’m just hot, tired, and sweaty.”

We’d already had a silly argument over underwear; I didn’t want another one over this. I was about to speak again when Joe beat me to it.

“We’ve got plenty of time before your friends arrive,” he reminded us, still smiling. “So, go upstairs, get a bath and relax. I’ll call when it’s time to do more.”

Neither of us could argue with that and were soon on our way to the shower. It’s odd where you can suddenly find energy, isn’t it? Of course, it’s not that kind of energy, but it was enough to get us a bubble bath (what?) and get us upstairs.

“I’m glad the moving truck is gone,” Jimmy said, as he sank into the steaming water with me. Joe had asked us if we wanted anything redone and we’d requested a Jacuzzi tub. It was something we’d installed at the farm a few years ago and we loved it. Of course, it was impossible to move (as was our pool and hot tub, but Joe has a pool and we’re getting a hot tub next week), so we got one installed out here. “And I’m glad we got a new tub. I think this one is better than the old one, if that’s possible.”

I turned on the jets and closed my eyes, holding Jimmy close to me. We’re starting over, which is not something I’d ever imagined us doing. But I’d promised him that, someday, we’d move out here and now we have. I still have some guilt that we waited this long, but that’s water under the bridge.


“I can’t wait to see what adventures lie ahead of us,” he murmured, as we sank further into the water. I nodded, kissing his cheek. This moment was not sexual for us, it was simply relaxing. “Thank you for doing this.”

I smiled, squeezing him for a moment, and I nodded. “You’re welcome. I love you, James Owen Shaddix.”

“I love you, too, Jacoby Dakota Shaddix.”

I have no idea when we fell asleep, but a knock on the door startled both of us. The water was also cold, which didn’t help, and I called for our visitor to enter, since the water covered any nudity.

“Your helpers are here,” Joe said, smiling. “You two look like you just woke up.”

“We did,” Jimmy answered, rubbing his eyes as he yawned. “Let us grab a shower and we’ll be right down.”

Joe started laughing and we blushed. “Don’t be too long.”

With that, he closed the door and I glanced at my husband, who burst out laughing. “Well, I guess we’d better get to that shower, then, so we can go direct more traffic.”

Jimmy nodded, removing his oxygen tubing since it was uncomfortable for him when it was wet. I warmed the shower, listening to him breathe; it wasn’t too bad today. I hope that, in our time out here, it can get better. We’re taking two weeks to settle in and then he’s off to a couple of days in Los Angeles to get evaluated by the top doctors in the country for memory and COPD.

“I love you,” he said, smiling, as we hurried through our shower. I wanted to get things moved around so we could finally work on settling in. “Now, let’s see if we can cram our house into dad’s.”

I nodded, as Jimmy turned the shower off and we stepped out. I felt refreshed and it was nice, even if I was still exhausted. I wanted to sleep in our bed tonight and once we got the sheets and blankets on it that could happen.

“Hey guys,” Jimmy greeted his friends as we finally made our way downstairs. “Thanks for taking the day off to help us.”

Matt smiled, as I greeted everyone, including our son-in-law. We needed muscle and Jimmy isn’t allowed to do anything with his breathing problems. I made sure he replaced his oxygen tubing, even if he grumbled about it.

“It was no problem. The shop runs itself while we’re gone,” Zach assured us, grinning. “And since I have to chase my little granddaughter around later, I’ll try not to overexert myself.”

We all laughed and Jimmy punched him on the arm. Despite their misgivings concerning little Vanessa Rae (who was now almost a year old), he and Gena loved her greatly and had forgiven Garrison for his indiscretions. He and Maria were due to marry in another year or so, and everyone was proud of them.

“Well, now that your muscle is here, what do we need to do?” Matt asked, stretching a bit. This man is the same age as Jimmy and still works out every day, runs at least six miles a day (sometimes more) and is considering running a marathon in a couple of years. Yes, I feel like a total couch potato next to him, despite working out daily.

“We need to get furniture together, unpack boxes and make our house fit into Joe’s,” I said and Matt laughed.

“No small task, then. Jimmy I understand you’re not supposed to be doing much in the way of heavy lifting?”

He shook his head, his face set in a frown. “Not until my breathing improves. I’ll work on unpacking stuff, hanging pictures, that sort of thing.”

With that, we all set to work, ready to make this house a home. I know this is a good thing, but the transition has already been tough for Jimmy and I suspect it’s going to get increasingly tough over the next few days. When he settles, though, things will improve; for now, that seems like a long way off and I wish time would hurry up.