“I was only gone for a few hours. I’m sorry you were worried.” Emmi turned her head to deliver a meaningful gaze to Cara.
Cara bit her lip, anxious at seeing further evidence of Flo’s Alzheimer’s disease taking hold.
Emmi walked closer to Flo and asked gently, “Did you eat?”
“No. There was nothing to eat.”
“But I left you some dinner. It’s wrapped in foil in the oven.” She turned and went directly to the vintage O’Keefe and Merritt oven that had baked cookies and cakes for them since they were children. She grabbed a mitt from a hook and retrieved a covered plate, then carried it to the table. “See? There’s chicken and a baked potato. And salad in the fridge. It’s all written down on this note,” she said, pointing to a sheet of paper on the kitchen table.
“A note?” Flo scoffed. “I didn’t see any note.”
Emmi sighed audibly and looked again at Cara for help.
Cara felt as if a bowl of ice water had just been dumped over her head. The progression of dementia seemed to be advancing more rapidly. The change in Flo was shocking. She looked more frail, older, much less able to care for herself.
“Flo, come sit down,” Cara urged kindly. “Look what we’ve brought you. Delicious samples from the wedding menu for you to taste. I need your opinion. They’re all delicious.”
“What in heaven’s name?” Flo asked. “The wedding menu? What wedding?”
“Cara’s wedding,” Emmi said as she returned to Flo’s side. Gently she guided the old woman to the kitchen table. “You remember Cara and David are getting married?”
Flo did not reply.
Cara went to the cupboard and pulled out a fresh plate. Grabbing tableware on the way back, she set it all in front of Flo. “We sampled food and wine for the wedding menu,” she explained again.
“Wine, you say? Just how much wine did you sample? You two are acting mighty strange. What’s that?” Flo asked, pointing to a mozzarella, tomato, and basil stick. She picked it up and inspected it more carefully.
“You go on,” Emmi said, shooing Cara out with her flapping hands. “You’ve got that ferry to catch.”
“Are you sure? I can stay for a while.”
“Don’t be silly. We’re fine, aren’t we, Flo?”
Flo was chewing, her mouth full, focused on her food.
Emmi followed Cara to the door. She looked over her shoulder to check on Flo. The old woman’s head was bent intently over her plate.
“Oh, Em,” Cara said with dismay. “She’s slipping faster now.”
“Yeah, I know. She’s becoming more and more dependent on me. She’s afraid when I leave her alone.”
“This isn’t just your problem. When you bought the house, you didn’t take on the responsibility for Flo.” Cara paused, hoping to convince Emmi she wouldn’t have to bear this burden alone. “Emmi, both our mothers are gone, God rest their souls. Flo is a second mother to both of us. A treasured aunt. We’ve always said that. I’m here to share this with you.” She put her hand on Emmi’s shoulder. “You won’t be able to keep this up on your own much longer.”
Emmi looked away but didn’t reply.
Cara was aware of having to catch the ferry. “Listen, this is a big discussion. I don’t want to miss the ferry. Let’s arrange a time to talk about this. Soon. I’m afraid it’s time. We have to make some decisions.”
Emmi sighed with resignation. “I’m afraid so. But it breaks my heart.”
“Emmi? You there?” called Flo. “What’s this? Can’t figure out if it’s potatoes or cauliflower.”
“Be right there, Flo!” Emmi called back. She delivered a quick kiss on Cara’s cheek. “All good here. Today was fun. Thanks for including me. See you tomorrow.” Then without another word, she shut the door against Cara’s “Good-bye, Flo!”
Night had fallen. Cara walked along the garden path toward the white fence that separated their two properties. The reality of Flo’s condition weighed heavily in her thoughts. She and Emmi both knew that eventually—someday—they’d have to make decisions regarding Flo’s advancing dementia, but that day had always seemed a ways off. Tonight, Cara witnessed how quickly the disease was progressing, and how much the burden of care had fallen onto Emmi’s shoulders. She’d never complained. Never uttered a word. That was like Emmi, Cara realized. Partly a saint, partly denying a reality she didn’t want to face.
The gentle breeze carried the heady scent of the spring honeysuckle blooms. Cara breathed deep and exhaling, she heard in the distance the sound of a woman humming. She held her breath. There was something familiar about the song, but she couldn’t place it. She swung her head toward the sound, squinting in the darkness.
In the dim light of the rising moon, Cara saw a slight woman dressed in vintage clothing coming from the beach. The woman stopped to bend and investigate a wildflower. Even in the darkening sky, Cara could see the luster of her blond hair. Straightening, the woman began humming again, strolling slowly toward her.
“Mama…” Cara whispered on a breath, sure she was seeing a ghost.
The woman continued to approach. Stepping into the warm yellow glow of light pouring across the path from Emmi’s kitchen windows, she looked Cara’s way, stopped, then waved exuberantly.
“Aunt Cara!”
Cara’s breath returned in a rush, and she laughed inwardly at her own foolishness.
“Linnea? What on earth are you doing here? You should be in California!”
Linnea rushed up the beach path into Cara’s outstretched arms. They were far more than mere aunt and niece. They were confidantes. Friends.
“Dear girl,” Cara exclaimed, her gaze taking in the vintage clothing that Linnea preferred, “you gave me a scare. You looked so much like my mother!”
Linnea giggled. “And you thought you were seeing the ghost of Lovie?”
Cara shook her head, a bit embarrassed. “It wouldn’t be the first time. But, Linnea! What brings you back? Where’s John?”
“Long story. I came right from the airport. My phone died.” She rolled her eyes. “I decided to see you before Mama and Daddy. They’re out anyway. But of course, you weren’t here. So I took a walk along the beach. It’s good to see the Atlantic again. But those mosquitoes are eating me alive.”
“The wretched things. I’m sorry you had to wait. I was at Lowndes Grove making wedding plans.”
Linnea’s eyes lit up. “Fun.”
Cara sighed, letting that go. “I stopped off at Emmi’s. I’d have hurried home had I known you were here. Let’s get you inside. I’ll rummage something up in the kitchen. You must be starved. And you might try to call your parents.”
“I’d like that. They’re probably camped out by the phone by now.”
* * *
LINNEA LOOKED AROUND dear Primrose cottage and was relieved that little had changed since she’d lived here a few years ago. It still held the same comfort of both old and new. The walls were painted white or a whitewashed blue. The polished floor was heart pine, adorned with Persian rugs in vibrant hues of red and blue. The upholstered furniture was covered in creamy linen slipcovers, and the long, matching linen drapes at the windows were open. Cara went around the room lighting the lamps on the side tables, creating pools of yellow light.