"Oh, great." She turned away from me. "The asshole is here."
"Nice to see you too, Mom." I took my usual spot in a reclining chair. She sat across from me in a bucket armchair that I had brought from her apartment when I moved her out.
I set a bag of grapes on her dresser. "Brought you some grapes."
"I don't want them."
"You love grapes."
"I'm not able to …" She frowned. "I'm dead."
I sighed. She said that a lot while I was with her. "You're not dead."
"Then you need to kill me."
"I'm not going to kill you, Mom. I'll end up in jail."
She looked toward her full closet and pointed at it. "There's a white one with a twist."
"A twist of what?"
"The thing … right there."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
My mom sighed. "I have no clothes."
"Mom, you have at least ten new shirts that you picked out at the store last month."
She rose and walked to the closet. She fingered a few of the shirts. "I don't like these."
"I'll take you shopping again." I hoped she'd forget I said that. I hated taking her out. Guaranteed during an outing, she'd break down crying. Plus, she often threatened to jump out of my moving car. The most fun was when she refused to go back into the care home on our return.
She wandered to the bathroom door. "They're mean to me."
"Who?"
"Those people."
"What people? The care aides?"
"It's your fault." My mom shook her finger at me. "I hate it here."
"Where am I supposed to put you? You can't live on your own."
She came back and sat on her bed. "I'm scared." She patted the mattress. "I lie here and cry." She stood and straightened the quilt. "This blanket is terrible. I'm cold."
"Then why don't you ask for another blanket?"
She stared at me but didn't answer as if the suggestion didn't register.
It probably hadn't.
The door opened and the care aide, Christine, popped her head in. "Dinner time."
Mom scowled as she left us. "What does he want?"
My shoulders tensed. "Mom, we've talked about this. Christine is a woman." A woman who was one of the kindest and most patient people I'd had the pleasure of meeting. She was good to my mom. She put up with her. Her moods, anger, lashing out, and generally aggressive behaviour.