CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Dani
I hadn’t seen my mother at all since my trip to Vegas. Her neighbor had been kind enough to check in on her each day, but I still felt guilty for leaving her alone. It had been days since we’d seen each other. I wondered if she would be angry or worse… if she would even realize how long it had been. When I pulled into her driveway, I felt myself begin to shake. Before my mother’s dementia set it, I would have told her everything that happened over the last two weeks. My breakup with Perry. My crazy, drunken marriage. Everything.
Now, I knew I couldn’t. Not only would it confuse her more than ever, but she would become inconsolable. Her emotions were always on edge, and it was my job to keep her calm. I couldn’t risk upsetting her just to make myself feel better. As much as I wanted her advice, I couldn’t ask for it. I had to stay strong, no matter how hard it was. My mother was counting on me.
I stepped through the front door to find her sitting on the couch. She was watching television and didn’t notice me come inside. It made me nervous that she was so oblivious. If someone broke in, she wouldn’t even realize until it was too late. Not for the first time, I was grateful that she lived in a safe neighborhood.
“Mom,” I said, walking over to her. “Hi.”
She startled. “Oh, Dani Bug, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I’m sorry. I should have knocked.”
“Don’t be silly,” she laughed. “You never have to knock. How are you?”
“I’m okay,” I said with a fake smile plastered on my face. “I had a long weekend. How are you feeling?”
“Just wonderful,” she assured me. “I feel just wonderful today.”
“That’s great,” I said and meant it. She really did seem to be okay. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and her eyes were alert. So often now, she was pale and disoriented. I liked to see her this way. “So, Mrs. Gleason checked on you this weekend, right?”
She blinked rapidly and almost seemed surprised to see me beside her. “What?”
“Mrs. Gleason,” I repeated. “She came over this weekend?”
“Um,” she blinked again, and suddenly, her eyes weren’t as alert. She looked around her, trying to find her bearings. I hadn’t meant to confuse her.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said quickly. I grabbed her hand and held on. “Let’s talk about something else.”
The lines on her forehead deepened, but she nodded. “Okay.”
“My art show went well. I—”
“You had a show?” she asked with excitement. My stomach dropped.
“I did.” I ignored the tears pricking the backs of my eyes. “Last week.”
She turned fully to me, looking for a moment like a little girl. “Oh, how was it?”
“It was great,” I lied. “I sold so many paintings. I think my art is really starting to take off. You would have been proud of me.”
“I’m always proud of you,” she gushed.
My throat clogged. “Thank you,” I managed to say. She patted my hand and turned her attention back to the television. I knew she couldn’t focus on our conversation for too long. It was draining for her. She did the best when she could just sit and relax. Her mental capabilities were failing her more and more. I hated seeing it. It broke my heart each time she got a little worse.
We sat together for a few hours, just watching television and relaxing. Everything was fine until it wasn’t.
Mom squealed and jumped to her feet. Right away I could see the problem. She had wet her pants.
“It’s okay,” I said gently, but she had already begun to cry and fret over the mishap. “You change and I’ll get this cleaned up.”
She looked mortified, her cheeks flushed a bright pink as she trudged to the bedroom, and I got to work on the seat cushion. After that, I did a load of laundry while she napped, my mind spinning like the washer the whole time.
Seeing my mother that way was the hardest thing I’d ever experienced. Just a few days before, she seemed okay. Now, she was deteriorating again. These things happened so quickly that I was never prepared for them. One second, she just forgot small details, and the next, she couldn’t remember how to use the bathroom properly. While I folded her clothes, my eyes began to water. I didn’t know what to do.
I didn’t have the resources to care for her properly. She so desperately needed to be in a home, but I couldn’t pay for it. My mind turned to thoughts of Talen, and I wished I hadn’t stormed out of dinner the night before. Talen had a way of getting under my skin. In the short amount of time that we’d known each other, he was able to infuriate me more than anyone else ever had. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him that bothered me so much, but I hated it.
Still, I knew I shouldn’t have left like that. In the moment, I didn’t think I could handle being his wife for an entire month. Just talking about the plan made me queasy. Coming up with a backstory? A lie? It sounded so terrible, so unlike me, that I wanted to run screaming from the restaurant. While I didn’t scream, I did run. I ran all the way to the street and grabbed the first cab I saw.
It wasn’t smart, but it was what I needed to do. As I stood in my mother’s house, listening to her soft snores, I knew I’d made a mistake. Talen was offering me a chance to finally make some real money. I worked constantly, either at my part-time job as a waitress, or my other part-time job as a bookstore clerk. Together, I was still barely able to pay for rent and essentials. My paintings weren’t selling the way I needed, and my mother’s condition was getting worse every day. She couldn’t wait much longer. I sighed and folded the last of the laundry, thinking that I needed to call Talen as soon as I got home.
That afternoon, I said goodbye to my mom and headed home to get ready for my waitressing shift. I’d seriously thought about staying the night in case she needed me, but she seemed better. Her mood had improved by the time I left, and she almost seemed like herself again. She would be okay until the morning at least.
I drove through town, enjoying the silent comfort of my car. My head was still spinning with thoughts of Talen and my mom. I’d made my decision while I folded her laundry, but I still didn’t feel right about it. The idea of calling Talen and asking for a second chance felt wrong. My cheeks flushed with shame before I even made it to the restaurant.
Hours later, my feet hurt but I had another hundred dollars in my pocket so I couldn’t complain too much. It was after midnight when I let myself into my apartment, and my eyes fell on my easel. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while, and I wasn’t ready to call Talen yet, so I placed a blank canvas on the wood and went to work. Again, I didn’t plan my painting. I just chose a few different colors, and let my emotions lead me. I thought about my mom and Talen. I remembered the way I felt when I woke up next to him, my new husband. As my paintbrush hit the canvas over and over again, tears formed behind my eyes. I blinked them away, not wanting to obscure my view of the painting.
When I was done, I took a step back and admired my work. The painting was of the chapel where Talen and I got married. It was blurry and unclear, exactly the way I remembered it. It looked like it had been doused in water, the colors running smoothly together. I smiled to myself. I didn’t need anyone to tell me this painting was good. I knew it was. There was a beauty to it that wasn’t easily achieved. I was immediately proud of myself and filled with a sense of confidence.
I rode that confidence all the way to my phone. When I picked it up, I dialed Talen’s number without hesitation. It rang twice before he picked up.
“Dani,” he said, his voice sleepy. I glanced at the clock and realized it was after four in the morning. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I said back. “Sorry for calling at this hour, but I wanted to apologize for the way I acted last night. I shouldn’t have left dinner. That was rude.”
“Yeah,” he said but not unkindly. “It was, but I understand. This entire situation is crazy.”
“I’d like another chance to make this work,” I said quickly before I could lose my nerve. “I think we can both get something out of this arrangement.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying since the beginning.” There was a bite to his tone.
I didn’t appreciate it. He was upset about the previous night, but that wasn’t an excuse. This wasn’t easy for me, and I wished he could appreciate that. Instead, he was acting like a child. I was frustrated, but I forced myself to stay calm. Picking a fight with him wouldn’t do either of us any good. He needed my help, and I needed his money. My mother’s face flashed before my eyes, and I took a deep breath. She was my reason for everything. I had to find a way to help her, even if that meant sucking up to Talen.
“You were right.” I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Okay,” Talen sighed. “Well, if we’re going to do this, then your attitude needs to change.”
“My attitude?” I asked, immediately bristling.
“Yes. You can’t keep walking out when you don’t like something. You have to actually participate. Otherwise, no one will believe we’re a couple.”
He was right, and the knowledge made me want to scream. Instead, I took one of the deep, cleansing breaths I learned in a yoga class long ago.
“I can do that,” I promised. “But I’m not the only one who needs to change.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that you can’t keep bossing me around,” I snapped and immediately went back to my yoga voice. “I’m not your property, Talen. I understand that you’re paying me to do this, but I’m still a person. You need to show me some respect.”
“I have been!” he argued. “At least, I’ve tried, but you haven’t exactly made it easy.”
“Neither have you,” I fired back, all hope of calm lost.
We were both silent for a few seconds. I could hear Talen’s breathing on the other end of the phone. We were butting heads again, and I seriously wondered if we would be able to pull this off. Finally, I sighed and sat down on my couch. One of us needed to budge, or we would end up right back where we started.
“Let’s just agree to be nicer to each other,” I said softly. “You respect me, and I’ll respect you, okay? We have to work together, right?”
“Right,” Talen agreed. “We do.”
I leaned my head against the cushion, feeling very tired. “Okay. So let’s just start there.”
Talen was silent for a few minutes. I waited to hear his response, hoping that he would agree with me. I wasn’t about to let him walk all over me, but I knew I could be a bit nicer than I’d been. This situation wasn’t entirely his fault.
“Dinner tomorrow night,” Talen suggested. “We can talk more then, okay?”
“Sounds good.” I tried to smile, but I was glad he couldn’t see me. The smile was weak and all my trepidation would have shown in my eyes.
“I’ll text details. Have a good night. Um, I mean morning.” There was actually a bit of humor in his voice. We seemed to be making some progress.
“Good whatever,” I said, really smiling this time, and hung up.
I set the phone down and laid back on the couch. With my eyes closed, I tried to remind myself why this was a good idea. I would have to see Talen again, and I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I had to believe it would be worth it. I thought about the money and how much it would mean to my mother. She would be able to move into a stable environment where she would always have someone around to help her. That, more than anything, was my motivation.
When I sat back up, my eyes fell on my painting again. It looked even more beautiful the longer I gazed at it. I could see my pain and sadness reflected in every color. There was an undeniable desperation in each brushstroke.
And as I stared at my reality as told on canvas, I began to cry.