Page 96 of Friend Me

“No. Gimme.” I snatched the cup from his hands and inhaled the nutty, caramel flavor. “Thank you. And thanks for visiting us. It means a lot.” I tried to infuse my gaze with every bit of sincere affection and appreciation I felt.

“Is everything okay at the office?” I asked. “Did you fix the bug?” Ben had refused to give me any scoop, sticking to his line about focusing on what was important. And I had. But I still wanted to know what was happening with my friends. Especially Tyler.

“Yeah. Amazing how motivated people can get over a bottle of whiskey and bragging rights. Sam found it.”

Sam?My money would’ve been on Tyler. And I’d been half-hoping Jackson would say his name so I’d hear something about him. The silence was starting to get to me. I could practically feel the hostility radiating from thatReadicon.

In a low voice, Jackson said, “Take a walk. Go get an early dinner. Or something chocolate. I’ll keep an eye on your dad.”

He knew me well. I whispered, “Actually, I have an appointment with the social worker. I should be back in half an hour?”

He nodded and sauntered over to Dad. “Hey, Will.” He shook his hand. “Jackson Jones. I’m Marlee’s—”

Dad stopped him. “I know you. You’re her boss. You drive a race car, and Marlee’s always having to clean up your messes.”

Jackson ducked his head. “That’s me. Can I take over for her?” He sat in the chair I’d vacated and picked up my cards.

Thank you,I mouthed to him.

As I left, Dad said to Jackson, “Marlee and I were playing for candy, but you’ll play for cash, won’t you, John?”

Oh, boy.

In the social worker’s office, I started to wish I’d stayed up in Dad’s room. Getting shellacked at cards was much better than being on the losing end of an argument I desperately wanted to win.

“Why wouldn’t I be able to take care of him at home? I’ve taken care of my dad since his injury.” They’d said I couldn’t do it then, too. But I’d made him do all the exercises the physical therapist had recommended. I’d hefted him into the truck to take him to doctor’s visits. And I’d seen to it that he’d taken his medications.

Her eyes softened with something too much like pity for my taste. “Your father’s mental health has deteriorated significantly since his prior accident. The nurses reported that he’s been uncooperative.”

“Withthem.”I tried to keep the defensive tone out of my voice. “My dad would never act like that with me.”

She stared at me, a challenge. “He wouldn’t.” Disbelief flattened her tone. “He’s never been difficult with you?”

“Of course not.” I jutted out my chin.

She stared directly into my eyes. “What was he doing the night he fell?”

I looked down at my hands, twisting the bottom of my pink cardigan into a rope.Great Galileo.“He was taking the telescope outside.”

“And if he goes home with you, how are you going to keep him from doing it again? Are you going to install keyed locks on the inside of your doors? Watch him every minute? What about when you go to work?”

“We’ve hired a daytime nurse.”

Her eyes were a warm brown, and although she wasn’t much older than me, their expression told me I wasn’t the first stubborn daughter she’d encountered. “What about when you need to work late, or go to the grocery? Or you need five minutes to yourself?”

Each question was a knife in my heart. I’d failed Dad when I’d done exactly those things. They were going to take him away from me. I blinked hard.

“We can recommend several home-like facilities where he’ll be comfortable, and you’ll be able to visit him whenever you’d like. Every day if you want.” She paused until I turned my eyes from my lap to her face. “They have specialized memory-care units. They know how to care for your dad. They have enrichment programs to keep his body and mind active.”

Better than that ratty oldBeauty and the Beastpuzzle. I remembered the pamphlets Tyler had brought me. He’d been trying to talk me into the same thing. “He won’t be lying in a bed all day? He won’t be”—I swallowed—“restrained?”

“No. There will be safe places for him to walk. Gardens. Art classes. Music.”

“It sounds expensive.” I bit my lip.

“It’s not cheap. But there are programs to help pay for it.”

“And it’s what’s best for my dad?”

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