“Just don’t get your hopes up,” I warned.
“Come say hi.” Millie tugged on my arm before I could refuse.
When we walked up, Ma was in a deep conversation with Doris.
“My son, Kyle, is a police officer. He's probably around here somewhere.” She made a show of craning her neck to search the crowd.
Doris greeted me with a smile and Ma finally noticed that I was standing before her. I went to lean in for a hug, when she straightened her back.
“Good evening, sheriff. I hope everything's going smoothly with the festival.” She offered a polite smile and crossed her hands over her lap.
“So far, so good,” I replied in the most official tone I could muster, unsure where she was going with this.
“I was just telling Doris here about my son, Kyle. I hope he isn't giving you too much trouble at the station.” She winked teasingly. “We're just so proud of him.”
I stared at her for a moment in complete shock. Then, it hit me.
She didn’t recognize me.
Of course, she didn't. I managed to avoid speaking to her for the past few weeks, and my weekly reports from Doris explained that she was losing more and more memory each day, contrary to what Millie thought. But it still hurt.
To see your own mother look at you as if you were a complete stranger?
It hurt.
Millie noticed a moment too late. She wrapped a comforting hand around my arm, but I shrugged it off and stepped away, offering some excuse about having to get back to work.
I was gone before she could stop me.