Verity(60)

She doesn’t move. I try to think of something else to say that would make her react. Something she wouldn’t be able to keep her composure after hearing. I stand up and lean into her, bringing my mouth to her ear. “Jeremy is going to fuck me in your bed tonight.”

I wait again…for a noise…for a movement.

The only thing I notice is the smell of urine. It fills the air. My nostrils.

I look down at her pants right when Jeremy begins to descend the stairs. “Did you need me?”

I back away from her, accidentally kicking the wooden ball I tossed toward her earlier. I motion toward Verity while bending down for the ball. “She just… She needs to be changed, I think.”

Jeremy grabs the handles of her wheelchair and pushes her out of the living room, toward the elevator. I bring a hand to my face, covering my mouth and nose as I exhale.

I don’t know why I’ve never been curious about who bathes her or changes her. I assumed the nurse took care of most of that, but she obviously doesn’t do it all. That Verity is incontinent and has to wear diapers and be bathed makes me feel even sorrier for him. Jeremy is now taking her upstairs to do both of those things and it makes me angry.

Angry at Verity.

Surely her current state is a result of the terrible human she’s been to her children and to Jeremy. Now, for the rest of his life, Jeremy will have to suffer the consequences of Verity’s karma.

It isn’t right.

And even though she flinched at nothing I said, the fact that I seemed to scare her has me convinced she’s in there. Somewhere. And now she knows I’m not afraid of her.

???

I ate dinner at the table with Crew, who played on his iPad the whole time. I wanted to wait for Jeremy, but I knew he didn’t want Crew to eat alone and it was getting past his bedtime. While Jeremy was tending to Verity, I put Crew to bed. By the time Jeremy got her showered, changed, and put to bed, the spaghetti was cold.

Jeremy finally comes downstairs as I’m washing the dishes. We haven’t talked much since our kiss. I’m not sure what the vibe will be between us, or if we’re going to be awkward and go our separate ways after he eats. I can hear him behind me, munching on garlic bread as I continue to wash the dishes.

“Sorry about that,” he says.

“What?”

“Missing dinner.”

I shrug. “You didn’t miss it. Eat.”

He takes a bowl out of the cabinet and fills it with spaghetti. He puts it in the microwave and then leans into the counter next to me. “Lowen.”

I look at him.

“What’s wrong?”

I shake my head. “Nothing, Jeremy. It’s not my place.”

“It is now that you said that.”

I don’t want to have this conversation with him. It really isn’t my place. This is his life. His wife. His house. And I’m only going to be here for another two days at the most. I dry my hands on a towel just as the microwave beeps. He doesn’t move to open it because he’s too busy staring at me, attempting to coax more out of me with that look.

I lean against the island and sigh, dropping my head back. “I just…I feel bad for you.”

“Don’t.”

“I can’t help it.”

“You can.”

“No. I can’t.”

He opens the microwave and pulls out his bowl. He sets it on the counter to cool off and then faces me again. “This is my life, Low. And I can’t do anything about it. You feeling sorry for me doesn’t help.”

I roll my head. “But you’re wrong. You can do something about it. You don’t have to live like this, day in and day out. There are facilities, places that can take much better care of her. She’ll have more opportunity. And you and Crew won’t be tied to this house every day for the rest of your lives.”

Jeremy’s jaw hardens. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. “I appreciate that you think I deserve better. But put yourself in Verity’s shoes.”

He has no idea how far I’ve walked in Verity’s shoes over the past two weeks. “Believe me, I have been.” I make a frustrated fist and tap it on the counter, trying to find a better way to word it all. “She wouldn’t want this for you, Jeremy. You’re a prisoner in your own home. Crew is a prisoner in this home. He needs to get away from this house. Take him on vacations. Go back to work and put her in a facility where she can receive full-time care.”

Jeremy is shaking his head before I even get the sentence out. “I can’t do that to Crew. He’s lost both of his sisters. He can’t go through another loss like that. At least if she’s here, Crew can still spend time with her.”

He didn’t indicate his own desire to have her here. Only Crew’s.

“Take moments, then,” I tell him. “You can put her in a facility part time so it’s not weighing you down. Bring her home on the weekends, when Crew is out of school.” I walk over to him and take his face in my hands. I want him to see how much I worry for him. Maybe if he sees that someone actually cares about his well being, he’ll take this conversation more seriously.

“Take moments for yourself, Jeremy,” I say quietly. “Selfish moments. You deserve to live a life where you have moments that have nothing to do with her and everything to do with you and what you want.”