What Happened to the Bennetts(47)

“I’m on the phone. I know it’s confusing.”

Lucinda was mirroring the patient’s feelings, one of the guidelines her doctor had given us.

“I don’t know what we’re doing.” My mother-in-law tugged a strand of her hair on the side, a gesture when she became agitated.

Lucida shot me a worried glance. My mother-in-law’s anxiety had worsened lately, so the doctors had tweaked her dosages. Her mood had returned to her typical temperament, cheerful and agreeable but off, somehow. She laughed easily but at nothing, emitting an odd chuckle. Still it was easier than the anger I had seen in other patients.

Special Agent Lingermann reappeared behind my mother-in-law, pointing at the phone screen. “Mrs. Romarin, here’s your daughter, right here. That’s her, right now.”

“Don’t be silly!” My mother-in-law chuckled. “Oho! That’s just a picture!”

“No, it looks like a picture but it’s not.” Special Agent Lingermann pointed again. “Your daughter is on the phone right now. You can talk to her.”

“Stop! I think you’re being silly. Oho!”

“Mrs. Romarin, all you have to do is talk. She’ll talk to you. You’ll see. Just talk.”

Suddenly my mother-in-law refocused on the phone, bursting into a smile, a brief flash of her old self. “Cindy!”

“Yes, it’s me, I’m here!” Lucinda’s face lit up, and I felt a surge of happiness for them both. The bond between mother and daughter was palpable, and my mother-in-law was still the only person who called my wife Cindy.

“Mom, I’m here. It’s so good to see you. I miss you, Mom!”

“I miss you, too, dear! Oho, how funny to see you! How funny!”

“I want to hear how you’re doing. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, dear!”

“Are you having a nice day?”

“Yes! Very nice! Everyone is very nice here! Oho! Oho!”

“I’m good, and everybody here is good, too.” Lucinda smiled, and my throat caught, watching her. I had no idea where my wife found the strength to pretend Allison was alive.

“That’s good! It’s good to be with you, dear!”

“The sweater looks so nice on you, Mom. Navy blue is your color.”

“Thank you!” My mother-in-law beamed, smoothing her sweater. The doll slipped down farther, its blue plastic eyes fixed on us. “I think it’s very smart, myself. Navy blue is a very smart color.”

“Yes, you look very pretty today.”

“Oho! Thank you! You’re very nice! You’re very nice!”

“So are you. You taught me to be very nice. I’m your daughter. You’re my mother.”

“Yes!” My mother-in-law burst into laughter, as if Lucinda had said something hysterically funny. Lucinda smiled anyway, her eyes shining with love and pain. She told me once that she was grieving her mother while her mother was still alive, then we found out it was called pre-grief.

“Mom, do you have your book? Your special book?”

My mother-in-law blinked. “No.”

“It should be there on the desk. Do you see it? You know, your special book?”

“I don’t see it. It’s not here. It’s gone.”

Lucinda pursed her lips. The special book was a construction paper booklet that had photos of us, with captions explaining who we are. The kids had made it when my mother-in-law first moved into Memory Care, and the special book was the way of introducing Ethan and me into the visit, suggested by her doctors.

Lucinda motioned to me. “Mom, I’m here with my husband Jason. Would you like to say hello to Jason? He’d love to say hello to you.”

“Oho! Oho! Yes, yes, I’d love to say hello.”

I leaned in, waving. “Claire, how are you, you gorgeous lady?”

“Oho! Oh my, you’re silly, you’re so silly!” My mother-in-law giggled, which gave me a bittersweet kick. My father had adored her, saying she had class, and they’d share a cigarette like two naughty kids. It was the only time I saw her smoke, since my starchy father-in-law disapproved.

I waved again. “It’s so nice to see you, Claire.”

“Well, it’s nice to see such a handsome young man!”

Lucinda laughed. “He’s not that young.”

I interjected, “But I am that handsome.”

“He’s so handsome! My, my! Oho! Oho!”

I laughed, my spirits lifting. I tried not to think about the future or the way her illness would end. I tried not to think about the past because there was Allison. Death was everywhere, in the present, in the past, in the future. I wondered why we bothered with time at all.

Lucinda motioned to Ethan. “Mom, your grandson Ethan is here. He would like to say hello to you, too.”

Ethan hurried over, grinning and turning his head sideways, being goofy. “Hey Muggy, it’s Ethan! Your grandson—” he started to say, but grimaced. “Why does she have Allison’s doll?”

I touched his arm. “Ignore it,” I whispered, realizing he didn’t know about the doll.

My mother-in-law blinked, frowning. “My Jo is gone. I don’t see my Jo.”

Ethan managed a smile. “No, I’m Ethan, your grandson Ethan. My name is Ethan.”