“You know I don’t.”
“Good. And while we’re on the subject,” I said, looking over my head, “I happen to know of a place that’s up for rent. Best deal in Brooklyn, in fact.” This had occurred to me just an hour earlier as I was cleaning the apartment in preparation to have everyone over.
“What?” said Piper, opening her eyes even wider than usual.
“Laine, you’re a genius,” said Josh. “That would be perfect.”
“That’s your title—but it is a pretty good idea if I say so myself,” I said.
He started running a hand through his hair repeatedly, like he sometimes did when he was on the verge of a breakthrough. “Actually, I’ll make it even better. What if I kept an eye on Mom? I’d be here every night, and I could be around if she needed anything during the day.”
I pulled my head back. “Whoa—that’s a pretty big offer. Are you sure?”
“I know it is. And yes, I’m sure. There might come a time when it doesn’t work anymore. But let me do this thing for you all, Laine,” he said. He leaned in and said, so only I could hear, “I can handle it. Really. It’s the least I can do for your family. Our family,” he corrected himself.
“Did I just hear something about Josh moving in upstairs?” said Hadley, who was all smiles.
“Yep,” said Josh.
“I’ll let you two discuss,” I said, looping my arm through Piper’s so I could pull her toward the kitchen.
“What’s going on, Laine?” she said. “Please tell me it’s not bad news.”
“Not at all,” I said. “You’ll probably think I’m crazy, but I think you and Josh might end up spending more time together now that he’s moving here.”
She looked aghast. “Laine!”
“Listen, I know this is weird for me to say. I just wanted you to know that if you two stay close . . . I’m okay with it.”
Piper hesitated, then leaned forward and wrapped me in her bony arms. “You’re so weird sometimes,” she said. “But thank you.”
Before I had a chance to respond, my mother was hollering for us to join her in the living room.
“You’re all here!” she exclaimed. She was holding Joy in her arms, and I was tempted to tell her to be careful, maybe even take the kitten from her. But then I remembered that she, of all people, knew what to do with a cat. And when she was having a good moment, like she was now, my only job was to let her enjoy it.
“What’s going on, Mom?” asked Hadley.
“Please, sit,” said my mother. She was in front of the fireplace, and she waved her hand at the rest of the living room. “As you can see, Laine’s been working a miracle here.”
I had been, actually, but the real marvel was that my mother hadn’t immediately undone my efforts. Josh and Piper sat on the love seat, and Hadley and Topper took the sofa. I started for the armchair in the corner, but Hadley patted the space between her and the armrest, so I sat down beside her.
“What a treat. All of my daughters in one place. And my sons,” she said, smiling at Josh and Topper. “All of my children in one place.”
I glanced at Hadley, who was looking at me quizzically, then at Piper, who was frowning. What was going on?
“So, there’s no easy way to say this,” said my mother. She was still standing in front of us, and she didn’t seem nervous in the least. “Laine and I had a talk the other day . . .”
She looked at me, almost as if for reassurance. When I nodded, she continued.
“There’s something that all of you need to know.” She took a deep breath, then said, “As you may have already suspected, I have Alzheimer’s disease.”
Hadley drew in her breath sharply. “Are you sure?”
“Mom, you haven’t been to the doctor,” said Piper. “You don’t know just yet.”
“Piper, Hadley,” she said, looking at them. “I’m very sorry—as Laine recently learned, there’s something I’ve been keeping from you. Your Nana Meyers didn’t have Parkinson’s disease; she had Alzheimer’s. She felt ashamed and never wanted anyone to know, and so I kept her secret for her, because I felt that’s what good daughters did for their mothers. But as your sister pointed out, that’s not really fair to the three of you to lie about something like that, especially when it might affect you one day. I don’t know all of the details, but I have to assume that having both a mother and a grandmother with memory loss means something for you girls,” she said, smoothing out an invisible wrinkle in the front of her dress. “I owe you the truth.”
Hadley reached for my hand. “Thank you, Mom,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, I am. But it’s going to be okay,” said my mother. She looked at me again. “And, Laine, that’s true even though you won’t be living here with me.”
Piper and Hadley both looked at me, and I nodded at them, confirming that I’d told my mother.
My mother’s voice quavered as she continued, “Together, we can work something out . . . something that keeps me safe. And when that doesn’t work anymore, we’ll find a place where I can get the care I need. Girls, I’ve given Laine power of attorney, but I trust you to work together to find a solution when it comes to that. All three of you will share medical power of attorney.”
I wanted to thank her, like Hadley just had, but I couldn’t speak. My mother had often told us she loved us over the years, and, of course, I’d always believed her. But this was a different sort of declaration of her love for us.
Piper’s eyes were wet with tears, but Josh had just grabbed a tissue box from the bookshelf, and she took one and squeezed his forearm quickly. Then he spoke. “I’ve been thinking about making a change, too—a big one. Laine suggested I rent the upstairs apartment, and I’ve decided I’d like to. If you’ll let me, Sally,” he said, looking at my mother. “I can help you out, make sure that you’re safe and have what you need.”
“Joshy, you’d do that for me?” she said, fanning herself in an attempt not to cry.
He nodded. “I know things are a little different than they used to be, with Laine and me getting divorced, but you all are my family. Sally, I don’t know if this will work out for us both, but I’m willing to give it a try.”
“I would love that,” she said, dabbing at her eyes. “Thank you, Josh. But, Laine . . .” she said, looking at me.
“I’m good with it, Mom,” I said. “Josh will always be one of us—he’s an honorary Francis for life. And I’m going to stay through the beginning of July to help him get everything set up. I’ll be visiting a lot more often. And I’m going to help in other ways. But . . .” I glanced at Hadley, whose bottom lip was quivering. And Piper, who was dabbing at her eyes with her wrist. “Then I’ll need to go.”
“It’s okay,” said my mother, but when I put my arms around her, she started to cry. “It’s just been so lovely, Lainey, having you here.”
“I know.” I wondered if she remembered our fight, and decided it didn’t really matter. “I can’t pretend it’ll be the same if I’m just visiting. I’m sorry.”
Then I let her cry. My decision brought her pain, and my sisters, too. I’d made things harder for them, at least in the short term.
But I was beginning to understand that the goal wasn’t always to make things simple and painless. Sometimes embracing the pain, and yes, the mess, was what it took to get to where you really wanted to be.