Accidental Tryst (Charleston #1)(16)

Penny nodded. "I've been in contact with the Medicaid planner you found to evaluate the eligibility requirements between New York and South Carolina. I think you might be able to make the case for him to get Medicaid assistance there. But because of the change of state you’d need to cancel his eligibility here, and then reapply in South Carolina, so there may be a period where you'd have to pay out of pocket."

"And hope he gets approved. That might be almost impossible." Completely impossible.

"Keeping him in New York may be the easiest option as far as funding goes," Penny continued, her eyes bleeding sympathy. "But as long as he doesn't see you frequently he deteriorates. And of course, a move to another facility will further affect him. Adversely. Although that might be unavoidable at this point."

The lump in my throat had grown so much it had sunk into a boulder in my chest. "So my choices are move him closer to me, but risk losing coverage that he desperately needs, or keep him in New York, but he'd have to leave this facility anyway?"

"I'm afraid so, yes."

I willed myself not to cry. "H-how long do I have until you can't keep him anymore?"

She let out a long breath. "As the dementia grows, the more he fights and argues with the staff. Unfortunately, recently he has gotten physical at times."

"What?" The thought of David becoming violent was as alien as Trystan Montgomery turning out to be a virgin. I wrapped my hands around my waist. Where in the Sam Hell had that thought come from? "My God. I'm so sorry. Are . . . are you sure? I mean, David isn't . . . I mean he's never been violent. Ever."

"It often happens with dementia patients. Bizarrely, it's sometimes in their moments of extreme lucidity that it happens. They 'wake up' as it were and don't understand why they're here, where they are, or why they don't recognize anyone. Often times they might try to leave and have to be restrained. And they get quite belligerent with people trying to stop them. We've put an ankle bracelet on David, and it sets off the sensors by the exit several times a week. He's been trying to walk out of here pretty consistently."

I tried to wrap my mind around what she was telling me. I'd thought he could stay here indefinitely until I figured out a way to get him closer to me. But now that was off the table too. "Are . . . are there any facilities you recommend for someone like David. I mean, if he stays in New York State?"

Penny pursed her lips. "We've put some calls in, but are you sure that's what you want to do? I think seeing you more often would be better for him."

My nose stung, and I lost the battle against tears as my eyes filled. "No. Of course I'm not sure. I don't know what to do."

"Is there anyone you know who might be able to pull some strings to get him into an affordable place closer to you? Oftentimes, if you know someone, they might be able to put in a good word, bump him up the list.”

"But I can't risk him losing coverage if I move him to South Carolina. I can't afford to pay for it out of pocket. It's an impossible position."

"I know," Penny said gently. She grabbed the box of tissues next to her and held them out to me. "That's why I was hoping you'd know of any other family members or relatives of David's who might be able to share the burden with you. I'm sorry you are on your own with this. But whatever you decide, he'll have to leave this facility before the end of next month."





9





Emmy





Outside the overcast clouds threatened rain. It was early evening when I finally said goodbye to David, having left him eating a plate of meatloaf, mash potatoes, and beige broccoli. I wished I could sign him out and take him for a meal at one of the old expensive steak houses he used to frequent in the city. Smith & Wollensky's perhaps. I blinked back more tears from my swollen eyes. I'd told David I had allergies when I came back from talking to Penny.

I'd finally remembered to text Trystan to send me the confirmation email I got from Airbnb to his email but I still hadn't heard back from him. God, this was getting complicated.

I walked along the narrow sidewalk. Within minutes I felt I could wipe a layer of grime from my skin and see it. The smell of the halal grill on the corner sent the pungent scent of roasting meat and strong spices wafting out to mix with the exhaust or honking rush-hour taxis and stagnant drains.

Finally, after a twenty-minute walk, I found the right address. I squinted at the dirty numbers on a brick pillar next to a rickety looking metal stairway that looked like it descended into the bowels of hell.

I looked down into the gloom. Were those eyes peering back up at me?

"You better be a cat down there and not a rat," I whisper shouted. My spidey senses were zinging off the charts as I stood on the sidewalk debating what to do.

I was a headline: Single girl books "room" in New York for two nights at low, low price. What did I expect? I guess I expected Lady Luck to give a shit, but she'd been on an extended smoke break since this morning when my flight was delayed, I lost my phone, and the news about David's eviction had been dumped on me.

I pulled out Trystan's phone to see if he'd emailed the confirmation and mulled my options for a few more minutes. Knock on the door and risk meeting a serial killer or double check the address? Double checking seemed like the smart decision. I opened a new text message to Suit Monkey.