“I’m… not sure.” I shake my head, frowning. “Wait, so you want to come to my house?”
He nods. “With food.”
“When?”
“Tonight. Dinner. You like pizza?”
“Pizza?”
Why do I keep repeating everything he’s saying? I’m making myself sound like an idiot. An idiotic parrot is what I am right now.
“Pizza is fun. Let’s do pizza.”
“Shark!” his brother shouts, this time with anger that couldn’t be mistaken as just annoyance. “I got shit to do!”
“Grumpy,” I mutter, causing Shark to chuckle. He takes a step back.
“I’ll see you tonight. Six okay?”
I nod hesitantly, not sure this is a good idea but… if he wants to do it, who am I to stop him? Maybe having a man around will make Dad happy. Or it’ll make him fly off the deep end.
Dinner goes so well. I can’t remember the last time I had greasy pizza from an actual pizza place. We don’t spend money on food like that because we can’t afford it. Dad loved it too. Though he kept asking who I was and calling Shark by the name of Jack Rivers, he didn’t freak out at all. Dad lasted only thirty minutes into the movie before he fell asleep. I was worried about waking him and bringing him to bed because that’s usually a trigger for him, but Shark offered to do it since Dad reacted to him so well through dinner. Kept talking to him like he knew him, and they were old friends. I’ve never seen him like that…
I’m fine with trying anything once, so I tell Shark to have at it. I’m glad for it because it works. Dad doesn’t yell at him or freak out. He only asks why he was there so late and not with his kids. Shark told him he was just checking on him because he wasn’tfeeling well. Dad went right to bed. No fight, no argument, nothing. He just… went to bed quietly.
Now, Shark and I are sitting outside on the porch swing. I’ve got the monitor set up on the banister, the one with the camera, so I can see if Dad gets out of bed since he’s sometimes quieter than a mouse when he does. Other times he’s nearly putting himself through walls like the Kool-Aid man.
“So,” Shark says. “You wanna tell me about all this?” He gestures to the monitor.
Not really, no. But maybe. I don’t talk to anyone about this stuff other than Dad’s doctors and the nurses who come here to help. Maybe talking to someone else, someone outside of the day-to-day, will be nice?
But where do I begin? Where do I start? From the beginning, I guess.
“Dad has Lewy Body Dementia. It’s a neurological disorder. He was officially diagnosed about a year ago, after presenting with symptoms for over a year.”
“So, he just forgets stuff?”
“LBD is a little different. He has hallucinations, tremors, and stiffness, and some other stuff too. For him, the hallucinations are bad. Some days are downright awful.”
“That sounds really difficult.”
I nod, focusing on my hands that are in my lap. “It is,” I agree. “I can’t imagine what’s going on in his head, and for me?” I shake my head. “It’s stressful.”
Shark reaches over and takes my hand, linking our fingers. It’s strange since he’s a stranger and all, but at the same time, it feels really nice. Plus, we agreed to be friends, right? And friends comfort each other.
But if we’re just supposed to be friends, why is my skin tingling where it touches his? Why do I want to lean into him and close my eyes? Inhale his scent and just let him hold me and make me feel safe?
“Do you have anyone to help you?” he asks.
“I have nurses that come every day to help.”
Shark shakes his head. “Not with your dad. With you.”
I frown. “Me? I don’t need help for me. I’ve got everything handled. When the nurses are here, I go to work. On my days off, I get everything else done. Laundry, grocery shopping, that sort of thing.”
“Sounds like you need more nights like tonight in your life.”
I huff out a laugh.