Page 19 of Her Alien Librarian

“Hey,” I say, lowering my voice just in case Mom is listening at the bottom of the stairs, “I found a bunch of used tissues under Mom’s pillow. Is this something you’ve dealt with? I don’t know what to do.”

“Ah,” she says knowingly. “She’s hoarding again. Yeah, I found loose cashews in her sock drawer a couple times.”

“Loose cashews?”

“It happens,” she says calmly. “Dr. Fisher said it’s common for people with Alzheimer’s to hoard things. I think she gets confused and assumes she won’t be able to find something again or that it’s about to run out, so she takes the last of it and puts it in a secret spot.”

“Okay, that makes sense. Should I let it continue?”

“I would check around the room to see if she’s hoarding anything else,” she suggests. “Tissues seem relatively harmless. If you’ve already thrown them out, fine. But wait until she’s in a place where you can have a rational conversation with her about it. If it’s food, take care of it immediately so you don’t end up with ants or mice, and let her know that’s why she can’t hoard stuff anymore. It’s not about taking away her stuff, it’s about preventing pests.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll check the rest of her room.” I let out a relieved sigh at the reminder that I’m not in this alone.

“Okay, I need to help Xavier with his homework before the game. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Okay, bye.”

As soon as I hang up the phone, it starts to ring, and Mylo’s viral photo flashes across my screen. “How’s the sexiest man in Sudbury?”

He chuckles, the sound low and throaty, and it sends goose bumps across my skin. “The library has one hundred thousand followers now.”

“The library?Youhave a hundred thousand followers, which is way more than I have at this point. Took me years to grow my photography account, and it took you a month to surpass me. You’re welcome, by the way.”

He clears his throat and lowers his voice to a whisper. “I believe I thanked you last night. Twice.”

Mmm. He did indeed. I’m pretty sure I blacked out at the tail end of that second orgasm. “You have one talented tongue, sir.”

“I’d be honored to thank you again tonight…”

Since this is day one of my period, going down on me is a no-go, but we can get creative. “I want to, but I have dinner with the family tonight. I’m not sure how late it’ll go, but I’ll text you when we’re done.”

“Can’t wait,” he replies.

I can’t either. For so many reasons.

I spend the next hour going through every nook and cranny of Mom’s room. There were a dozen loose cashews in her sock drawer, but that wasn’t nearly as shocking as the open can of beans and the unfinished container of cottage cheese in the back corner of her closet, covered in a colony of ants that were marching their way toward a crack in the wall.

“Fó,”I mutter to myself, goose bumps covering my skin at the sight. Bile rises in my throat, and I have to hold my breath as I clear Mom’s old sneakers from around the pile of pungent rot. She’s distracted enough by her show to not notice when I race down the stairs and grab the Raid, a pair of dishwashing gloves, and several plastic grocery bags from under the kitchen sink and run back up to her room.

Once I’ve got the gloves on, I hold my breath again and blast the two open containers with a steady spray until most of the ants appear to be dead in a pool of chemicals, then I use the plastic bags as another barrier between my skin and this disgusting mess and grab the bean and cheese mush and race to dump the contents on the patio. A tall glass of water is all takes to rinse away the ant-filled containers, and the bottle of Raid runs dry after I spray what’s left into the crack in the wall, praying to Jesus that I’ve defeated the remaining members of the ant colony.

I don’t find anything else in Mom’s room, but after what I discovered, I’m not sure it could get much worse, and at least now I know to keep an eye on the ant situation.

By the time Marty and Jackie arrive for dinner, Mom’s mood has gone from angry to apathetic, which, after today, I’m fine with. She’s not herself, but she’s not hurling accusations at me either.

“I didn’t have the energy to cook, so I ordered a bunch of Chinese food,” I say as I greet Marty and Holly, gesturing toward the white boxes covering the dining room table. Then I wrap their kids, Oliver and Penny, in bear hugs and cover their cheeks with smacking kisses until they’re each giggling and saying “Auntie Sam!” in mock embarrassment.

I also make a point to show Jackie the containers of steamed vegetables for Mom so she doesn’t scold me too much.

Jackie hands Holly a plate, but she declines. “I’m doing a detox cleanse right now. It’s supposed to be great for your kidneys. I can send you the article if you want your mom to try it.”

I grit my teeth in an effort to keep my eyes from rolling.Don’t take the bait, I tell myself. But a moment later, the question falls out of my mouth. “Isn’t that what your kidneys do already? Detox and cleanse. I’m pretty sure that’s their whole purpose.”

“I know, right?” Holly says, oblivious to my tone. “The cleanse makes them even more efficient.”

Jackie and I exchange looks that are an equal combination of bewilderment and exasperation, but we both refrain from further comments. It’s not worth it.

Marty is loading his plate with chicken fried rice when he points to a square piece of paper on the side table where we keep the mail. “Oh, Sam, I brought over your invitation to Nate’s wedding. I kept forgetting to bring it. Sorry about that.”

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