Page 21 of Where We Fall

I get so lost in conversation with her, that I'm surprised when the captain comes on to let us know that we need to buckle up for landing. Although, we were only coasting in the air for about thirty minutes.

When we get to the hotel, Marcus still insists on taking my suitcase. Gabe checks us all in and hands me a keycard to my room. It looks like I'm on the twentieth floor. Marcus walks with me to the elevator and hops on while the others decide where they want to eat.

I've already told them I was going to check in and then go visit my mom, so I'm surprised Marcus is following me to my room.

"How far is your mom's from here?" he asks, leaning against the opposite wall of the elevator as we go up.

"It's thirty minutes outside of the city. She's in an assisted living facility."

He seems surprised. "I didn't realize it had gotten to that level yet."

"She actually has an early onset case of dementia. She can't live alone."

"Does your dad help out too?"

The elevator doors open, and we walk out.

"He's not in the picture. Left when I was young."

He stops in front of my door and turns to me. "I didn't know any of this. I'm sorry you have to take this on by yourself."

I shrug. "I'm used to it."

"Doesn't make it any easier, I'm sure."

I don't know why, but I can't meet his eyes. I don't want to see the sympathy in them. Just more confusing feelings that I don't need in the mix right now. Being kind and understanding of my family life is another layer of him I don't need to know.

I hold up my keycard and open my door.

"Well, thanks for everything. This week, the plane, helping me to my room."

"Don't forget, you're the one helping us out. Thankyou, Lex."

I nod my head and close the door.

Instead of dwelling on anything, I freshen up and take a car to the assisted living center. I'm familiar with most of the front desk staff, but tonight there's a man I've never seen before.

"Hello, there," he says as I approach. "How may I help you?"

"Hi. I'm here to visit my mother. Elaine Miller."

He glances down at the daily itinerary.

"Not a problem. Looks like she just had dinner. She should be back in her room. If you would just sign in over here, please."

I sign the sheet, like I've done a hundred times before, then thank the man and head towards my mother's room. When I get to her door, I peek inside. She's sitting in her rocking chair as she watches the television across the room. A rerun of I Love Lucy is playing.

I knock on the door.

She looks up at me with a blank stare, but at least it's not one of confusion. I feel hopeful that tonight will be a good visit.

"Hi, Ma," I say. "How are you?"

I grab the seat by the door and move it closer to her. She looks older than when I saw her last. Her sixty-five is looking more like seventy-five to me. It hurts my heart just thinking about losing her early. She was diagnosed at sixty. We managed pretty well for the first three years, not seeing too much of a difference. But she has been on a steep decline in the last two years, and I worry that it isn't going to slow down until it takes her away from me.

I don't want her to see me cry, so I do what I always do when I see her and want to break down, I suck it up.

"It was apple pie day for dessert."

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