Chapter 17

Sensing a change in my mood, my mother touches my hand, then folds it between her own. Her skin is smooth from lotion despite the lines time has etched deeply into her flesh. “Brian, listen,” she starts, smiling down at our clasped hands. “I’m fine, really. The doctor says another few days here for observation, a couple more tests, and I’ll be home in no time.” Lowering her voice, she leans closer and looks me in the eye to make sure I’m paying attention. “It’s your father I’m worried about.”

“Dad?” I ask. “Why?”

My mother sighs. The sound worries me. “His memory’s not so good.”