Page 75 of Open Secrets
“If you’re here for Trey, you’re too late. The nurse just took him to the visitors’ lounge.”
I nod. “We’re not here for him.” I crouch down, forcing a smile. “Do you remember me?”
He shakes his head, apologetic. “Sorry, young man. My memory isn’t what it used to be.”
Clearly, his eyesight isn’t much better either. I just smile, swallowing hard, when Maria kneels down beside me and rests a hand on my shoulder.
“We’re friends of yours,” she says softly. “Old friends.”
He chuckles. “Oh, how wonderful.”
Maria sits cross-legged on the grass. I follow her lead, sinking down beside her, the early sun warm on our shoulders.
“How are you?” she asks.
“I’m good, sweetheart,” he answers with surprising cheer. “This place is very nice. Are you thinking of moving in?”
Maria shakes her head. “Not quite yet. We have kids.”
His eyes brighten. “Oh, how sweet.”
Maria pulls out her phone. “Would you like to see their photo?”
He beams. “Why not?”
She scoots closer, scrolling through. One by one, she shows him pictures of our kids—candid shots, messy hair, missing teeth, grins caught between bites of food.
Then she hesitates before swiping to another. “This is them with their grandparents,” she says softly. Her thumb lingers, and then she adds, “…and my dad.”
The image flashes across the screen: him, years younger, the kids clambering over his lap.
He takes the phone from her, staring at it longer than the others. For a second his face shifts, like a curtain might be lifting.
Maria leans forward, breath held. “Do you recognize anything?”
He blinks, the moment slipping. His face smooths again. “What a wonderful family,” he says warmly, handing the phone back. Then he pushes on the armrest of his chair. “Well, I believe it’s time for my medicine.”
“Can I come with you?” Maria blurts.
He shakes his head. “No, I feel like I’m going to take a nap.” Raising a hand, he waves over a man in scrubs who comes to wheel him away.
“Can I come back?” Maria asks quickly, desperate. “To see you?”
He shrugs with a faint smile. “It’s a free world, young lady.”
Maria holds her smile until he’s gone, then turns to me, eyes brimming. “He didn’t even recognize me. I thought… I thought the photos—”
I pull her against my chest, holding her as tight as I dare. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“Let’s go,” Maria whispers, her voice thin and frayed. She pushes herself up before I can answer. I follow, watching the stiff line of her back as we move through the halls, out the doors, and into the Texas sun.
We don’t speak until we’re in the car. The door slams shut, her seatbelt clicks, and then it breaks out of her.
“I can’t believe he’s like that.”
Her voice is sharp, jagged.
“That’s my dad, Lyle. My dad. And he looked at me like I was some stranger trying to sell him insurance.”
