Such a Beautiful Family: A Thriller(25)

“Just the day.” He gestured up the hill toward the trail. “I should go.”

She stood and brushed herself off. “Great. I’ll walk you home and maybe get a peek inside the haunted house.”

“Um—” When she stood, Trevor noticed she was an inch or two taller than he was. Her dirty-blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was cute, and he felt suddenly tongue-tied.

She walked right up to him and stuck out her hand. “My name is Gillian.”

“Trevor,” he said, wishing his hand wasn’t so sweaty as he reached out and took her hand in his.





CHAPTER ELEVEN

Nora sat on the back deck with Mom and Dad and gave them the rundown on what was going on with Hailey and Trevor and work. Anyone afraid of heights might not enjoy sitting on what felt like the top of the world surrounded by tall trees and a wide expanse of calm blue water. But Nora loved it. Sitting here now, she was reminded of how much she enjoyed being at the lake house. There was a chill in the air, and she zipped up the front of her sweater, put her face to the sun, and inhaled the fresh, crisp air. When Mom went inside to grab a blanket for Dad, Nora asked him what he’d been up to.

His eyebrows suddenly drew together, making his forehead wrinkle. “It’s time for me to go to work. I don’t want to be late.”

Before he could get up from the old wooden chair he’d made with his own hands, Mom appeared.

“Calm down,” Mom told Dad. “You have the week off, remember?”

There was a bewildered expression on his face when he peered up at Mom. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. It’s on the calendar.”

He chuckled, relaxing again as Mom settled the blanket around his legs, tucking it under his knees.

“I’ll get you some hot tea,” Mom told him. “Does that sound good?”

Dad nodded, his gaze straight ahead, seemingly on the shimmering water.

Nora followed Mom into the kitchen. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That Dad has gotten so much worse in the months since his diagnosis. He thinks he’s late for work?” Nora gestured toward the deck. “He doesn’t know he’s been retired for more than a decade?”

Mom took the kettle to the sink and filled it with water. Once she had the kettle on the stove and the burner was turned on, she fixed her gaze on Nora and said, “He’s fine. He forgets little tidbits here and there, but it doesn’t happen often. Why would I worry you every time he’s forgetful?”

“Because then I could have talked to the kids, readied them for what might happen. He forgot Trevor’s name the last time you were at the house with your grandchildren. He called him Lucas.”

Mom’s face paled.

It worried Nora that her parents never talked about the accident. Surely it wasn’t healthy for them to keep what happened tamped down inside themselves. After the collision, Nora had nightmares every night for years. Since then, she had talked to more than one therapist who helped her work through some of her anxiety, but when she suggested her parents do the same, they both said it was all in the past and there was nothing to be done now. “Do you ever think about Lucas?”

“Of course I do. We both do, but there’s nothing we can do to bring him back.”

Mom’s hands began to shake. Nora didn’t want to upset her, so she let it go. “Has Dad been to the doctor since he was diagnosed with mild dementia?”

“Yes. Of course. The doctor has done a wide array of tests and assured me there was no need to get overly worried.”

“What sort of tests did they do?”

“Problem-solving tests, language skills—speech and comprehension, that sort of thing.”

Mom quickly busied herself with searching through the cupboards for a mug. She’d never liked talking about anything that caused her grief. Nobody did, but sometimes it was important to talk about uncomfortable things, especially if you wanted to move forward.

“Do you want tea, dear?”

“No thanks.” Nora waited until Mom had put a tea bag in the mug and had nothing left to do but wait for the water to boil. “So, what does Dad think about these tests? Does he ever get a clear head and realize he’s retired? Does he talk about what’s happening?”

“He’s aware . . . and frustrated by the changes taking place, especially when he can’t remember an event or when I ask him to make a decision.” Mom’s eyes watered. “He doesn’t like when he can’t process what someone has told him.”

“How often does he forget things, Mom? Once . . . twice, three times a day?”

“At least.” She was fiddling with her wedding band. “I didn’t want to say anything. I kept hoping he would improve, but you’re right. He’s gotten worse.”

Nora’s stomach felt as if she’d swallowed a brick that was now floating slowly to the bottom of her gut. Before she could say another word, the front door came open, and Trevor appeared with Tank and a young girl at his side. “There you are,” Nora said. “I was wondering where you’ve been.” Her heart filled with hope. She smiled at the young girl, excited to see that Trevor had possibly made a new friend. “Hello. I’m Nora. Trevor’s mom.”