Page 86 of The Unraveling

But just as the doors are about to shut, he sticks his hand between them.

They relent and open back up for him. He keeps a hand on one and looks me in the eye.

I’m braced for anything. I’m ready to be reprimanded.

“Jocelyn,” he says.

“Yes?”

“I just want you to know that it is taking everything from me to step into this elevator right now.” His eyes drop briefly to my completely hidden body. “It’s taking everything. I’m trying to be a good man.”

He then gives a half shake of the head and grits his teeth.

I wait for him to say something else, but instead he releases the door and steps backward, his eyes dropping down one more time to my body before landing on my eager, heavy gaze.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

The doors shut.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I’ve been replaying the kiss in my head all day. How did that happen? What were we thinking? What was I thinking?

Every time I picture it, I’m struck with the feeling of shame and embarrassment at my boldness, but then, dichotomously, with the excited thrill of how good it felt. I want more. I want more badly.

Every time my mind wanders to desire, it comes crashing back down with the guilt again.

How had I been willing to risk everything? What was wrong with me? I must control myself. I must. My phone dings with a text alert. It’s from him.

I’d like to pay for your grandmother’s care. Please send me the name of the facility. Xx

Oh my god. My thoughts are racing. I can’t believe he’s doing that. I think I just fell for him more and also he didn’t mention the kiss. Ugh, I can’t help but think he must regret it.

I distract myself with other things, first thing being that I call Mimi. It’s been too long since I’ve talked to her.

I set up an appointment to talk to her, so an aide is going to set up FaceTime for her on an iPad. I sit, anxiously waiting for the call to go through.

I breathe in deeply. It always makes me nervous.

Mimi is sitting in a large, plush armchair in a warmly decorated room. She’s reading a magazine and listening to Louis Prima.

“Mimi,” I say, smiling as I see her.

She looks up, her face lighting up when she sees mine, but then her eyes dim a little as I see that she does not recognize me. I feel even worse for the few and far between calls I’ve done with her and the fact that I moved so far from her. I know her memory loss is degenerative and not necessarily attached to how much or little I interact with her, but I have to believe that if I saw her more, she’d know me more.

The truth is, it scares me and upsets me to see her without the strong sense of self she had for my entire life. It feels unkind of me to protect myself in this way, feeling like after a lifetime of her being so devoted to me, it was only fair that I give her the kindness of engaging with her now even if it’s uncomfortable. But it’s easy for me to rationalize it away since she doesn’t know if I do or not. If she was merely ill, then I would have kept in closer contact.

“It’s me, Jocelyn,” I say, struck as always with the incorrect feeling that I am condescending to a grown woman. “Your granddaughter.”

She nods. “Of course, of course.”

I know she doesn’t quite remember, but it’s clear she knows she should know me.

“Your room is looking nice today,” I say.

“Oh, I’m only staying here for a little while, I’ll go back home soon.”

“Right,” I say.

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