Page 62 of Afternoon Delight
“You saw the nutcrackers?”
“So many nutcrackers.” He shook his head. “He read me every little sign about them like they were clues in National Treasure.”
I propped my elbow on the table and leaned my head on my hand, adoring him for indulging his father that way.
“The drive home was fine. The roads were clear and dry. Dad knew where we were. He said stuff about the different towns. ‘Your mother bought a dress there once.’ Things like that. We got home, and I put on his game shows. I usually shower when he’s watching those. He likes them so he doesn’t get up and wander outside or start cooking.”
My heart stuttered at what that told me about how closely he had to watch Dale, so his father didn’t become a danger to himself or others.
“I walked across to my room, got dressed. I guess he heard me because he was in the hall when I came out. He was really scared. Wanted to know what I was doing in Zak’s room.”
I could see how bewildered Zak was. How hurt.
“The doctor warned us this was likely to happen at some point.” He rubbed his face. “They said we shouldn’t, you know, correct him or try to make him believe reality, but I couldn’t help it. I said, ‘I’m Zak.’ He said no, Zak was out with his wife. And where’s Zara? What have I done with Zara? He was really angry. Really upset. I thought he was going to hit me.”
“Oh, Zak.” I reached across to squeeze his hand. He gripped mine tight. I could feel him shaking.
“I tried to distract him,” he continued in a hollow voice. “I asked what he wanted for dinner. Soup and sandwiches? I just wanted him to accept that it was okay I was there, but he was so scared. Of me.” He released my hand and used his thumbs to wipe both eyes again.
I unraveled our cutlery from its paper napkin and offered the napkin to him.
“Thanks.” He pressed the napkin into each eye. “I couldn’t stand there terrifying him.”
“No,” I murmured, heart breaking right along with his own.
“I went over to Carl’s, asked him to try calming him down. They’ve been neighbors since Zara and I were little. Dad let him in, and I could hear Dad saying he wanted to call the police, that he’d had a break-in. I called Zara from Carl’s place—he had her number beside the phone or I wouldn’t have known it. I didn’t have my phone. Once Zara was there, I just started walking.”
“Oh, Zak.” He looked so lost I wanted to slide around the booth, sit beside him, and hug him again.
Our food arrived. I’d never been less hungry.
“Will you text her for me?” Zak his pockets. “I still don’t have my phone or my wallet. I don’t know how I thought I would buy groceries.”
“Sure.” I texted Zara, telling her where we were and that she could call Zak on my number if she wanted. She called a few minutes later, but they didn’t talk for long.
“Dad is calmer. She’s going to stay the night with him,” Zak relayed. “I’ll sleep at her place. Tomorrow we’ll get him to the doctor, but...” He shrugged. “There’s nothing they can do. We already know that.”
This situation was the absolute worst.
“Do you and Zara belong to any support groups?” I asked.
“We’ve talked about it, but I think we’ve been in denial about how bad it is. It went so fast. One day she said, ‘I think Dad’s becoming absent-minded,’ then suddenly it was, ‘Dad can’t live alone.’ What the hell do I do now?” He sat up straight and rubbed his face as though he’d been freshly sucker-punched. “I can’t live with him if he’s afraid of me. What do we do? Put him in a home where nothing is familiar? Where no one cares?—”
He stared at the back of the booth, clenching his eyes shut against fresh tears.
I thought again about moving to his side, but he picked up his burger. He looked like it took all his effort to chew and swallow.
“You don’t have to eat it,” I said gently.
“No, I’m hungry. I just...” He trailed off.
“This is the shittiest of shitty situations, Zak. I’m so sorry.”
“It really fucking is.”
The helplessness was killing me.
“Hey,” I said, remembering something as I shook vinegar onto my fries. “I’ve been talking to a facilitator who specializes in senior sexuality. I’m trying to organize some info sessions at the shop. I’m sure she’ll know of some good groups for caregivers. Let me get the details for you, save you calling around. If you don’t use it, no skin off my nose, but at least you’ll have a number if you want it.”
