Autumn Dreams

by Gayle Roper

  Her private line in the kitchen rang, and sighing, she answered.

  “Cassandra Marie.” Mom’s voice was full of tears.

  “Mom! What’s wrong?” Had something happened to Dad?

  “It’s Elsie.”

  Cass’s stomach clutched. Oh, Mom! “What’s wrong?”

  “She’s up in the attic above the garage, and she won’t come down. I’ve called her and called her, but she won’t come down. And I can’t figure out how to get to her.”

  “Oh, Mom, she can’t be up there.” Hopelessness swept Cass. “She’s been dead for several years. Don’t you remember?”

  “What?”

  “Aunt Elsie died a long time ago.”

  “She—she did not.” Cass could hear the horror in her mother’s voice. “Not Elsie. She’s in the garage attic. I can hear her moving.”

  “Mom, where’s Dad?”

  “Who?”

  Cass blinked. Mom remembered her daughter but not her husband? “Dad. You know, Lew.”

  “Oh, you mean that handsome Lew Merton?”

  “Yes, that’s who I mean. May I speak to him?”

  “Let me see if he’s come to visit.”

  “Mom, he lives there.”

  “With Elsie and me? I would think not. It wouldn’t be proper.”

  Cass blinked against her tears, aware that Jared and Jenn were watching her with concern. “Just find him for me, okay? I need to talk with him. Try the kitchen.”

  “Okay. Don’t go away.” And she hung up the phone.

  “Mom!” Cass called, but the line was dead.

  “What’s wrong?” Jared asked, rising.

  Cass stared at the receiver still in her hand. “Aunt Elsie is in the garage attic.”

  “What? That’s nuts.”

  “Apparently not to Mom.” She slapped the phone in its cradle. “I’ve got to go over there right away.” She looked distractedly for her purse and keys. When she grabbed them, her hands shook.

  “Isn’t Grandpop home?” Jared asked.

  “I don’t know.” She rubbed her forehead. “Mom didn’t seem to realize they were married, let alone if he was there.”

  “You shouldn’t go over there alone.” Jared’s brow was furrowed with concern. “Call Uncle Will.”

  Cass shook her head. “He lives off island. It’ll take him much longer to get there than me. And Mom called me.”

  “Then I’ll go with you.” He started for the steps. “Just let me get my jacket.”

  Cass’s heart swelled. What a great kid. “Oh, Jared, you don’t have to come along.”

  “You can’t go alone.” He repeated, clearly incensed at the very idea. “Who knows what you’re going to find.”

  “Aunt Elsie?” muttered Jenn.

  “Funny. Very funny.” Jared launched himself upstairs for his jacket.

  “Do you want to come too?” Cass asked Jenn. “Or do you want to stay here?”

  Jenn pushed back in her chair. Varying emotions flashed over her face: reluctance, uncertainty, guilt, but the primary response was fear. “I’ll stay here.”

  Cass couldn’t blame her. She was afraid of what she would find too. “No problem. I just don’t know when we’ll be back.”

  “What about Mr. Harmon?” Jenn asked as Jared thundered downstairs.

  “Uh-oh! Dan!” Cass raced into the front hall and called, “Dan! Dan!”

  He appeared at the top of the stairs in his stocking feet, buttoning his shirt, tucking it in his jeans as he hurried down to her. “What’s wrong, Cass?”

  “My mom just called.” Her voice broke. “I have to go over there.”

  “It’s like Friday?”

  Cass nodded.

  He turned and started back upstairs. “Let me get my shoes, and I’ll go with you.”

  She stared at him, immensely moved. “Thanks, but you don’t have to. Jared’s coming.”

  “Of course I have to,” he surprised her by saying. “Now you get your car, and I’ll be out back in a minute.”

  Nodding, Cass ran to the garage on the alley, Jared on her heels. While she appreciated Jared’s accompanying her, it was Dan’s coming along that made her feel she might be able to cope after all.

  “Sit in the back, Jared.” She slid into the driver’s seat. “Dan’s going with us.”

  “Okay.” The relief in his voice matched her own feeling of reprieve.

  When they pulled up in front of the neatly landscaped house on Scallop, the smoke alarm was blaring and two old men stood on the sidewalk in the dark trying to decide what to do.

  “I don’t see no smoke,” one said to Cass as she scrambled out of the car.

  “I smell it,” the other said. “But I don’t see any fire.”

  “We’ll check it out,” Dan called as he followed Cass up the walk, Jared loping behind.

  “Mom?” Cass called, making for the kitchen and the smoke alarm. “Where are you?”

  She heard no answer and half expected to see both parents on the floor, overcome by fumes of some kind. What she found was an empty room and a pan on a stove burner with a high flame under it. Billows of smoke rose from the burning hamburgers in the pan, little tongues of flame leaping in the grease. All this was overlaid with the terrible fumes from the pan’s melting Bakelite handle. A gray haze clung to the ceiling, swirling around the alarm.

  “Man, these things are annoying,” Dan said as he pried the casing open and released the battery.

  Cass grabbed a tea towel, wrapped it about the handle of the smoldering pan, and rushed toward the back door. “Jared!”

  He beat her by a step, pulling the door open for her. She went out into the backyard, holding the pan as far from her body as possible. Still, waves of heat, acrid fumes, and smoke enveloped her, making her eyes water. How much longer before the little flames licking the hamburgers would have jumped the pan, and there would have been an actual fire? Shivering at the thought, she set the pan in the dirt at the edge of the garden where it wouldn’t fry any vegetation. Dan was right behind her with a pot of water to douse the charred mess.

  “Hey, don’t use water,” Jared called as he ran to them. “It’s a grease fire. Use baking soda.” He stuffed a box of it into Dan’s hand. “I found this in Grandmom’s cupboard.” In no time the flames were smothered. Cass stood back and stared at the mess for a minute, then went searching for her parents while Dan and Jared opened the front and back doors and several windows to help clear the smoke.

  She found both Mom and Dad upstairs in Mom’s pink bedroom, arguing over Elsie.

  “They’re up here,” she called to Dan and Jared from the landing at the top of the steps. The two hurried upstairs and stood behind her in the bedroom doorway.

  “Can’t you hear her?” Mom asked Dad, unaware of the three arrivals. She rested her hands on the wall that adjoined the garage. “There! Charlotte! Charlotte! Get me out! Lew, we’ve got to help her!”

  “Charlotte,” Dad said, his face a mass of worry wrinkles. “Stop this. Please! Elsie’s not there. She’s dead!”

  Mom glared at Dad. “That’s what Cassandra Marie said, but you’re both wrong. I know it.” Her voice quivered, and her face crumpled. “Elsie’d never die and leave me.” She turned back to the wall. “Hold on, Elsie. I’ll save you.”

  Cass wanted to cry. Her clever, intelligent mother! “Mom,” she said, her voice loud to get her parents’ attention.

  They both turned in surprise, noticing for the first time that they had company.

  “Cassandra Marie,” they both said, coming to her with open arms.

  “And Jared.” Dad veered off to shake Jared’s hand.

  “And look, Lew. Cassandra Marie’s brought her boyfriend. Isn’t that nice?” Mom patted Dan on the arm.

  Dan smiled warmly. “Hello, Mrs. Merton. It’s good to see you again.”

  “Have you eaten yet?” Mom asked him, apparently as taken with his smile as Cass was, apparently snapping back to real life at the sight of him.
Them.

  “None of us has eaten,” Cass said.

  “None of you? Well, we’ll fix that. Lew, let’s call that seafood place—oh, what’s its name?—and get flounder dinners brought in.” She turned to Dan, concern clear on her face. “You do like flounder, don’t you?”

  “Very much.”

  “Good.” She put her hand in the crook of his elbow and led him from the room. “Fried or broiled?”

  Cass reached out as her father started from the bedroom and caught his arm. “Wait a minute, Dad.”

  He stopped and looked at her with a question.

  “Jared, go down and help Grandmom order what we need from Campbell’s, will you?”

  “Yeah,” Dad said. “Don’t let her call the order in. Who knows what we’ll get if she does it.”

  Jared thumped downstairs, calling, “Grandmom, I want fried flounder with french fries and coleslaw.”

  Cass sat on her mother’s bed. She patted the place beside her. “Sit here, Dad. We need to talk.”

  “Not now.” He edged toward the door. “Dinner—”

  “—will be at least a half hour.” Cass crooked her forefinger to call him to her.

  He came reluctantly, his shoulders slumping, his step dragging. He dropped to the bed and stared at the floor. Hopelessness sat like a pall about him. “She’s only like this part of the time, Cassandra. Most of the time she’s fine.” He looked at her, his eyes suddenly fierce. “Most of the time she’s fine!”

  “Dad, she left food cooking on the stove over a very high flame. Didn’t you hear the smoke alarm?”

  “Food on the stove?” He looked stricken. “That was my fault, not hers. She forgot to make dinner, so I was cooking some hamburgers when she started yelling about Elsie. I had to come up to calm her.”

  “What would have happened if there’d been a fire?” Cass’s blood turned cold as she thought of them trapped upstairs, fumes rising, overcoming them.

  “Well, there wasn’t.” Dad stood. It was obvious that as far as he was concerned, the conversation was over. “Your mother and I are fine, Cass. We don’t need or want your help.” He strode from the room, flicking the light out as he went.

  Cass sat in the darkness, her arms wrapped about herself to try and stem the chill that crawled over her like flies over a carcass.

  Oh, Lord, what are we to do? Should we get someone to live in and care for them here? Should they go to a home? How much longer before Mom needs full-time care? Can they afford it? Can the brothers and I help? How much can I afford? And how do I get the brothers to see what’s going on here? How do I get them to help?

  “Aunt Cassandra.” Jared stood hesitantly in the bedroom door. “We ordered the food. Grandmom wants to drive to get it—”

  Cass’s blood stopped in her veins.

  “—but I told her I would. I said I needed the driving practice.”

  “Good thinking.” Cass fished in her jacket pocket and pulled out her keys. She tossed them to him. “My purse is on the counter in the kitchen. Take the cash you need.”

  Jared nodded and turned to go. He paused and smiled sadly. “You know, we can’t let her behind the wheel anymore.”

  Cass pressed her hand to the pounding pain between her eyes. “I know, but how do we stop her?”

  Jared shook his head, having no more answers than she did.

  Cass continued to sit alone in the dark after he left. Alzheimer’s? The very thought gave her the shakes.

  Dad was clearly in denial about how serious Mom’s problem was becoming. No wonder the brothers didn’t see any trouble. They all shared Dad’s tendency to paint the world as they wanted it to be, and they had the skills and intellect to make that approach work most of the time. But this time reality wouldn’t cooperate.

  Dimly she heard footsteps on the stairs, but she didn’t move. Moving took too much energy.

  Dan stopped in the doorway, a huge silhouette backlit by the hall light. “Are you okay?”

  His quiet concern slid over her like a soothing salve on a wound. She felt her headache take two steps backward, the constriction about her heart ease. “Sure.” She tried to smile but was amazed to find herself crying instead. She swiped at her eyes, trying to stop, trying to regain control. The more she tried to stop, the harder she sobbed.

  “Ah, Cass.” He came to her, took her hands, and pulled her to her feet.

  “I’m sorry!” She sniffed and looked for a tissue box. She saw none. She sniffed again. “I never cry.” She wept harder.

  He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. He rested his cheek against her hair. “Shh, Cassie. It’s going to be okay.”

  No, it wasn’t. She knew it, and so did he. She threaded her arms about his waist and washed his shirt with her tears.

  Ten

  WHEN THEY GOT back to SeaSong a few minutes after ten, Dan was totally drained. He couldn’t imagine how Cass felt.

  “Alzheimer’s,” Jared said as they sat in the quiet dimness of the garage after the silent trip home.

  Cass turned to look at his shadowy figure in the backseat. “Could be. Certainly dementia of some kind.”

  “My dad always said you were overreacting.”

  Cass’s voice was rueful. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “I’m sorry.” Jared sounded guilty as he stuck his hands in his jacket pockets.

  “Don’t apologize for your father, Jared.” She reached back and patted his knee. “And thanks for your help tonight. You were great.”

  “Yeah.” He reached for the door, opened it, and light flooded them. “I’ll e-mail him about tonight. I’ll tell him.” He climbed out and walked slowly to the house.

  “It’s hard for him to see his grandmother like that,” Cass said.

  “They’re close?”

  “Mom’s always been a wonderful grandparent. Dad too. They have the kids for sleepovers at Camp Grand, named for Grandmom and Grandpop. They have the out-of-town grandkids in for a month each summer. Everybody gets great birthday gifts and their own personal night out with them. Oh, Dan.” She choked on a sigh. “This is so hard.”

  Dan’s heart broke a little for her. He slid out of the car and walked around to the driver’s side. Cass still sat behind the wheel. He opened the door and held out his hand. She took it, and he helped her out. He kept her hand as they walked to the house, wishing he could somehow make her pain go away, but knowing he couldn’t. They went in the back door, across the darkened kitchen to the door that led to the shadowy public hall.

  Dan released her hand and took hold of her shoulders. “I want you to get a good night’s sleep now.” He knew he sounded like an idiot, like his mother, in fact, but he persisted. “Tomorrow things won’t look quite so bleak.”

  She nodded, smiled weakly, and raised one hand to rest it on his. “Thank you.” Dan felt another piece of his heart break. At least this time he’d done better than the other night. He’d gone with her, hugged her, offered her verbal comfort even if he didn’t have a solution to offer her.

  Maybe there’s hope for me yet, Lord.

  “Good night, Dan.” Still wearing her sad smile, she waved him through the door. He walked to the stairs.

  Lord, help me help her. Please. I’m still not good at this, as You know, but someone’s got to be there for her. She’s there for everyone; let me be there for her.

  The whoosh of the swinging door opening again caused him to turn.

  Cass stood there, her face shadowed, but when she spoke, her voice was strong. “I almost forgot. I was going to ask you if you wanted to have breakfast with us in the mornings instead of sitting on the sunporch in solitary splendor.”

  “Really?” He stared at her, thinking how nice that invitation was and how special that she remembered to issue it after the night she’d just had.

  She misunderstood his hesitation. “But of course you don’t have to,” she hurried to say, gesturing with a hand like she was waving the invitation away. “It’s no trouble t
o serve you in there. It’s just that you’d said—”

  “I’d love to eat with you.” He meant every word of it. He hadn’t realized how much of a people person he was until this week when he had no one to share his table. Company at breakfast would somehow start the day off with sunshine, regardless of the weather. Of course, lunch and dinner still loomed, but two meals alone were so much less boring than three.

  She hurried on as if she hadn’t heard him. “The kids eat at about seven-fifteen so they can leave for school in plenty of time. I know it’s earlier than I serve in the dining room, but you get up early anyway. And I’ll make the same things for you I’d make if you ate in there.” She pointed toward the sunporch dining area.

  “Cass, I’d love to eat with you guys.” He didn’t really care whether the kids were there or not. Not that he minded the kids, of course, but she was the draw with her lovely hazel eyes and soft blond hair. “And you don’t have to make me special dishes. I’d be happy with cereal or toast. That’s what I usually eat.” Unless he had a business breakfast.

  “Oh, no. You’re our guest. You’re paying for a nice breakfast.”

  “I’m used to cereal. Cheerios. Special K. Raisin Bran.”

  “Cheerios are Jared’s favorite.”

  “We men stick together.”

  “Jenn likes yogurt.”

  “I think not.”

  “Wimp.”

  They smiled at each other.

  “See you at breakfast.” A flick of her hand, and Cass was gone.

  When Dan reached his room, he fired up his laptop and logged on to Google. In the topic line he typed Alzheimer’s. Shazaam! Several thousand sites that could tell him more than he wanted to know about this specific form of dementia. The more he read, the worse he felt for Cass and her family.

  As a progressive, degenerative disease of the brain and nervous system, he read, Alzheimer’s begins in small bites, usually seen in memory loss, and increases over time until it completely disables a person. It attacks the parts of the brain that deal with memory, thought, and language—the parts that make people the unique individuals they are. It is incurable, and though there is a genetic type, most cases are random and unpredictable.