“Do you, Robert James Hargrove, take Lottie Bernhardt to be your lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health…”

It was a beautiful afternoon in that spring of 1966, the priest’s words getting lost as a nice breeze blew through the outdoor wedding, Robert’s twenty-six year old smile widened by the second as he gazed into the beautiful blue eyes of this twenty-four year old heartthrob he was now marrying. Wonderful violin music playing in the background, vibrant flowers decorating the area around them.

Lottie Bernhardt looked every bit the gushing bride, he thought, as the breeze blew the veil covering her face slightly. Brunette locks, done up in some do or another, a gorgeous white skinned complexion…he loved it all, but those eyes…those eyes….

“So,” the priest asked. “Do you?”

“What,” Robert asked, pulling himself from the picture of perfection standing by his side. “Yes…Yes, of course I do!”

The crowd gathered for the nuptials laughed at the daydreaming groom.

“And do you Lottie Bernhardt, take Robert James Hargrove to be your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” she beamed. “I love you Robert James, forever and always.”

_____________________________________________

“Dad?”

Robert opened his eyes, taking in the smell of another cool spring breeze.

“Dad…Earth to Dad,” the woman seated next to him said, waving a hand in front of his face. “Get ready. You’ll probably have to go up there soon.”

“Oh,” he replied, remembering where he actually was.

He sighed as he looked over the small group of people that had gathered for this solemn day. The reverend continued to speak to them in a very monotone, very low voice. No wonder he had gotten lost in a daydream. Christ, he wanted to fall asleep!

But it had been very easy to get lost in memory today, especially that memory. It was on a beautiful day like to day that he had married his wife. The breeze, the sun, the park…

Well, this wasn’t exactly a park. It was in fact a cemetery, he reminded himself. Our Lady of Peace Memorial Park, just outside of town.

And so much…oh, so much had changed since that day that seemed just like yesterday to him at that moment. He wasn’t a twenty-six year old young man with thick blonde hair anymore, he thought, running a hand through the thinning white short-cropped hair atop his head. Hell, he wasn’t anything like that young soldier anymore.

He had gained some…alright, a lot of weight since then, and life…alright, life and cigarette smoking, had left him with more than his fair share of wrinkles and other health issues. He hurt sometimes. Sometimes for no reason, his body just ached. He wasn’t a fan of getting old. Or funerals.

“Amen,” the reverend announced.

“Amen,” those gathered replied.

“Now, I’m told Mr. Robert Hargrove would like to say a few words,” the reverend added. “Mr. Hargrove?”

Robert took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling a hand on his shoulder.

“Go ahead Daddy,” the woman seated next to him said gently. “You’ll do fine.”

Robert nodded, then grunted as he got to his feet, and shuffled past a few of those gathered, before reaching the aisle. He paused when he reached a wheelchair bound guest at the end of the row. A smile formed across his lips, which gave him the confidence to walk up that aisle, to the alter which overlooked a brown open casket, decked to the hilt in wonderfully fragrant flowers.

The smell welcomed the memory of his wedding day back again, but he pushed it aside for the moment. He fiddled with his suit jacket, feeling so cramped in the fitted clothing. He hated getting dressed up too. Give him a pair of slacks and a white t-shirt, and he was good to go…but that was neither here nor there, he thought, scanning those that had gathered for this service. They weren’t here for him.

He allowed another deep breath, exhaling slowly while those gathered turned their attention towards him. He slipped a pair of reading glasses and some folded sheets of paper from the pocket of the black suit he wore. Placing the papers on the podium, while putting the thin glasses to his eyes, Robert took another moment to look out over the gathering.

Friendly yet solemn faces stared back in anticipation. Some smiled, some wept. It was an odd assortment, he thought. He knew some, while others were just strangers. Friends of friends and business associates, he guessed. Not even his acquaintances, but that didn’t matter. He paused extra long on his family, and gave a smile. He loved this small, growing group of people, as any father would, but these past months had brought him so much closer to them. He felt that he had become the figure that he always thought he had been to them, but never actually was.

They had all grown so much in that period of time, it sometimes felt amazing. As much of a tragedy as it seemed sometimes, it had really succeeded in bringing a family back together again. Strange how things work out sometimes, he allowed, as another breeze blew in, bringing the smell of lilacs to his nose. Oh, that familiar perfume. Lottie’s favorite. He smiled, taking pause on a member of his family again.

A toddler babbled in the audience, and Robert could here his daughter’s trying to keep the young child occupied, as the silence continued. He watched an ancient man in a wheelchair eye the child, as if trying to figure out what type of creature he was. Robert shook his head with a smirk.

Alright then, it was time to do this, before the natives got restless. He took a deep breath again, steadying his aging heart. He had a story to tell, and he would tell it. It would make sense to some, others would be left wondering, but he needed to tell it, in order to honor the deceased that had become such a large part of his world. It was time to start.

“Thank you, Reverend,” he said quickly over his shoulder to the rotund man seated behind him. “I’ve, uh…I’ve never been one for Church or anything, so forgive me if this little speech isn’t filled with hallelujahs and all that.”

He cleared his throat, before eyeing the papers laid before him.

“Love. Love is just a word. Nothing special about it. It’s used to describe a feeling. A feeling that in no way can be described through words,” he began. “Some find it many times in their lives, while some never find it at all. Luck of the draw, I guess.”

“But let me tell you another thing about love. Like the word, the feeling is nothing special to the world at large. It’s only special…it only means so very much to those that are experiencing it. I don’t care what movies or books or experts try to tell you, it’s nothing special to anyone except those involved. Nobody gives a flying fig. To them…to those people, love is special…love is the world, and you can’t do a damn thing about it.”

“My Lottie and I…we’re apart of those people that found love and never let it go. Sure, it changed over the years, maybe diminished a little here and there…Hell, sometimes I wish I had never found it to begin with!”

The crowd giggled a bit.

“But it never failed.”

He sighed, taking another deep breath.

“And it was tested. Sweet Jesus was it tested. Especially in the last couple of years.”

He waved off his comment, clearing his throat.

“But that’s getting a little ahead of ourselves. Let me backtrack a little.”

“Lottie and I met back during Vietnam. I was a soldier, and she was training to be a nurse. Love didn’t happen upon us instantly, and I had to work to even get her to speak more than a couple of words to me. But eventually, I worked my magic and we began to date.”

“A bullet to the right knee ended my time there, and I was shipped back home and discharged with full honors. Lottie’s tour ended soon after, and we decided to get married. And on a day just like today, Lottie and I were married in the spring of ’66.”

“We waited a little while to have children. Lottie wanted to finish nursing school back in the states and I was busy earning my teaching degree, but the years passed by fast, and before we knew it, our first daughter was born in ’68, with our son following in ’70, and finally, our youngest daughter in ’73. Raising three kids and working. Sometimes I don’t know how we did it. Guess it helped that Lottie had gotten a job as a nurse at the same high school I was teaching history at.”

“But boy oh boy, we thought the years had flown by before…”

The crowd chuckled.

“Three kids, two careers, and before you knew it, it was time to retire. The kids moved away and that old house on Sycamore Avenue was an empty nest, with two people trying to find each other again. Now, I’m not the most…”

He cleared his throat.

“I’m not the most attentive person around, I guess. And unless there’s a problem, why mess with something that has worked this long, you know? Why would I think anything would really change with the woman I’d spent my time with for so many years? But, that’s life, I guess. Has a way of changing leaving you completely unprepared. That’s what started to happen with my Lottie...and I hardly even realized it. Or if I did, I guess I really didn’t think what was going on was too much of a concern.”

_____________________________________________

“Thanks so much for your help today Mike. We really appreciate it.”

“It’s not a problem, Maddy,” the man standing in full fire gear responded. “Just glad that nobody was injured.”

Madison Hargrove nodded her head, rubbing her hands together with anxiety, as she ventured a glance over to the older woman nestled in an armchair behind her. A paramedic was still talking to her.

“Take care of your mom, Maddy,” the fireman responded, as Maddy’s eyes returned to his. “God knows we all love her, but she needs help. Especially if your dad isn’t going to be able to do it alone.”

Again, Maddy just nodded. Mike turned to walk away, but stopped himself on the edge of the stoop. Maddy took notice, as he turned back.

“And I know it’s a weird time,” he started. “But I haven’t seen you in forever. I hope…I hope everything’s been alright with you…you know…since your separation. You’re a good person, Maddy. You need to take care of yourself, too.”

“Thanks Mike,” she responded with a slight smile. “You’re a good friend.”

This time, it was Mike’s turn to nod, and as her old friend turned on the stoop and walked down the front steps of the old Colonial home, Maddy couldn’t help but feel a little relieved that it had been Mike to respond to the call. The paramedic quickly followed behind him, muttering a friendly goodbye, before also leaving the home.

Maddy closed the door and sighed.

She felt her hair graying. She knew it was. This was the kind of situation that instigated such a thing in people, she thought. She instinctively put her hair through the long wavy mane of brunette hair. She had already earned herself a nice streak of gray that ran from her hairline towards the middle of her head. A shitty marriage and a divorce had seen to that.

My God, she thought, that mess had just been signed and finished, and now this. She felt like crying…but stopped herself. She was strong, just like her mother had taught her to be. Strong and independent, and she would do what needed to be done.

This conversation had been coming, she told herself. It needed to be done, and today proved that waiting around wasn’t good for anyone in this house.

She sighed again, this time audibly, wishing her brother was here to help with this burden.

“Stop sighing,” she heard a gruff voice say from behind the morning’s edition of the Hometown Gazette. “Everything is good now. Just an accident.”

“An accident he says,” she muttered, her brow furrowing, feeling her anger quickly rising. “An accident! She nearly burned down the house!”

“Please! It was just a small kitchen fire. She forgot the stove was on,” the voice from behind the paper responded. “Nothing to get your panties in knots over.”

“Oh yeah, Dad,” Maddy started. “A ‘small kitchen fire’, really? Half of your friggin’ kitchen is cinders, old man! The stinkin’ dog still has ashes in her fur!”

Robert Sr. crumpled the paper down to look at the old yellow lab seated at his feet, reading glasses falling slightly down the bridge of his nose. Dasher looked up towards her owner, and whimpered. Indeed, the dog’s normally yellow-white fur was marred with gray and black ash. He bent over the arm of the chair to wipe off his pet.

“Who’s my good girl,” he asked, as the dog rolled over onto its belly with a sigh, only succeeding in grinding the remnants of the fire on her fur into the tan carpet.

“You still have ashes in your hair too,” she mumbled, shaking her head.

“Hmm,” Robert answered, running a hand over his short white hair.

“How about that. Guess it’s back to the old ‘salt and pepper’ look again,” he joked returning to his paper.

“You’re such an ass sometimes,” Maddy seethed, her voice rising higher, angrier. “You were supposed to be watching her, Dad! Why the hell was she using the stove to begin with? You’re supposed to be watching her! I thought I could trust you! For Christ’s sake, Dad! I can’t be here everyday to watch out for her! I live forty minutes away, I work not one, but two jobs to try and support my daughter, since her asshole of a father refuses to participate! Talk to me, Dad! Why was she using the stove?”

“I was making your father his breakfast, dear,” a small voice answered from the armchair. “And please watch your mouth. I don’t approve of the language that you use sometimes. You’re a lady. Act like it.”

The voice sounded distant, concerned, but not at the screaming going on around her. She turned from her father, towards her mother. The woman seated in the chair seemed troubled, yet resigned to her fate.

Maddy fought tears as she looked at Lottie Bernhardt-Hargrove; her mother; the rock of her ever stormy life, staring out the bay window onto the home’s perfectly manicured front lawn.

This woman had changed so much in the last two years; so drastically fast. How could such an independent, loving, caring woman; a woman who dedicated herself to being a wonderful mother to three rotten kids, be crumbling right before her eyes. The thought made Maddy shake her head. Life was such a bitch.

Yes, the woman was nearly seventy-two, but she seemed to have aged so drastically since her seventieth birthday. The perm that she kept meticulous seemed to be looser, and hadn’t been colored in quite some time. White was now working its way throw the center of the light brunette head. And those glasses…those big wide old lady glasses Maddy had taken her mother to get a few years before…they just topped off the image of a sick elderly woman.

It was the disease, Maddy reminded herself. It was all just that friggin’ disease working its dark magic.

“Your father does keep an excellent lawn,” Lottie said, a smile forming on her face, breaking Maddy’s thought.

“Yeah, Mom…yeah, he always did,” Maddy replied, still troubled. She moved in closer to her mother, who was still gazing out the window.

She looked so skinny, Maddy thought. Was she eating? Was Daddy making sure that she was eating? Her tan blouse seemed to be hanging too loose on her frame.

“We should really go out for a walk today, Maddy dear,” Lottie announced, turning towards her daughter with a big smile. “A shame to sit here all morning, watching the world from inside.”

For a moment, Maddy thought the suggestion was a great idea. She loved taking walks with her mother. It always calmed her, but just as quickly, she remembered what she was doing in that house this morning, and the weight of the world was coming down upon her again.

“No, mom,” she began, squatting down and putting her hands on her mother’s lap. “We need to talk about what happened today.”

“Oh,” Lottie responded quizzically, concerned, putting her aged hands atop her daughters. “What happened today, dear? Is everything alright?”

“My wife had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease two years earlier, shortly after her seventieth birthday. She was always kind of forgetful. ‘Mommy brain’ the kids and I would call it, but it seemed to get a lot worse after her seventieth birthday. I just never noticed it.”

Robert glanced down at Madison.

“Or maybe I just didn’t want to notice it,” he said, taking a pause.

“The doctors said that it was a moderate case, and put her on all kinds of medicines to try to stem the progression. We asked if there was a guarantee that they would help; that maybe he could give us a timeframe. Being the fine nurse that she was, though, Lottie knew that there wasn’t any guarantee. The mind is a complex thing, and Alzheimer’s…or ‘the memory thief’, as I’d taken to calling it, would do its damage on its own schedule. Medicine could push it off a few more years…maybe even a decade. Or her mind could be a sieve in no time flat. It was up to the disease. Not me, the kids, or Lottie. But life had to go on. Why dwell on the eventualities? Lodi had never lived that way before, so why start now, I thought? Besides, I didn’t want to begin to even think of my life changing that drastically.”

“I’m a man of routine, always have been,” he continued. “Some say I’m just OCD, but I like a routine. I like my routine. Out of bed by 7:00AM, even after retirement. Morning cigarette and coffee. Breakfast by 8AM, morning paper sometime after that, and then we see what the day brings.”

He sighed.

“Lottie never questioned that. She thought I was as crazy as the next guy, I know, but she loved me. And she made sure that my routine stayed on schedule. Never questioned it. Just did it. And that’s what she was doing the morning of the kitchen fire. Making my breakfast.”

He looked up and smiled.

“Bacon and eggs is what I think she burned out the bottom of the frying pan making. Carbonized it the stove.”

The group chuckled a bit, lightening the room a little.

Even Maddy gave a slight smirk, he noticed.

“Anyway, she shouldn’t have been using the stove anymore. That hadn‘t been the first time something like this had happened. She had nearly incinerated us both making a meatloaf a few weeks before, and the kids decided that she shouldn’t be allowed to use the stove anymore. I would have to cook, they said. Like that was going to happen.”

Again, the crowd chuckled.

“As far as the kids knew, Lottie was kept out of the kitchen. I had become the chef of the house. In reality, when watching eyes weren’t around, I let her cook. She enjoyed it. It kept her happy. She didn’t have any accidents for weeks, and I had my breakfast.”

He grunted, as if holding back an emotion.

“I miss the breakfasts she’d make me,” he finally said.

“But that’s life I guess,” he quipped, running a hand through what was left of his hair.

“As much as I wanted to ignore it, life was going to change. After the kitchen, incident there was no more pushing the talk aside.”

_____________________________________________

“You really don’t have to do that,” Robert heard Lottie say into the phone as he came back into the house.

He had just finished taking the last bag of debris out to the garbage. The kitchen was clear of everything he could physically take out himself, but still looked like a complete wreck, he thought. Lottie had sure done a number on it. Oh well, he thought. She had been bugging him for a remodel for years, so wish granted.

“Lottie, can…”

She held up a finger to her husband. He huffed audibly, shaking his head. She had been on that phone with their son, Robert Jr., for the better part of an hour. Madison had undoubtedly given him a call to share the news of the kitchen’s destruction, much to Robert’s dismay. He wished that kid could just keep things to quiet once in a while, instead of just blowing everything out of proportion. Robert shook his head again. It would have come out eventually, he guessed.

“Alright Robbie, dear. We’ll see you when you come in then. Out love to Danielle and the children...alright…yes, that’ll be fine…OK…all our love…bye-bye, dear.”

“Who was that,” Robert asked, as if he didn’t already know.

Lottie hung up the phone. “It was Robbie. He said he’s flying in tomorrow morning.”

“Oh,” he asked quizzically, again, as if he didn’t already know the reason.

“Madison called him…”

“Can that girl ever keep anything private,” Robert said, finally expelling his irritation. “Now she’s making Robbie fly in for no reason!”

“He’s our son, Robert,” Lottie responded. “And she’s our daughter, and they are worried about what happened.”

“Everything’s fine,” Robert said, waving off the comment. “Everything’s cleaned up. We’ll get a contractor in here, and the kitchen will be right as rain soon enough.”

“I hope so,” Lottie simply said, concern in her voice.

Robert noticed the familiar worry in his wife’s words. “Listen, baby. We’ve been handling this for two years on our own. There’s nothing to be worried about. The medication’s doing its job…”

“That just buys time,” she cut in, the trained nurse in her shining through. “Nothing more.”

“Well, whatever,” Robert said. “We’ll go back to the doctor…maybe they’ll up the dosage or something. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I do worry,” Lottie replied in a low tone. “And I wish you wouldn’t be so stubborn sometimes.”

“Stubborn about what,” he asked, fighting back.

“About this,” she said harshly, opening her arms as if to reveal the burned out husk that was now half of their kitchen. “I did this…and I don’t…I don’t remember it happening…”

She choked back a flood of tears, putting a hand to her mouth. Robert huffed yet again. Please don’t cry, he thought. Why do you have to cry? He never liked it when Lottie cried. It was because he was mean or selfish, he always told himself, but because he didn’t like how it made him feel. He wasn’t very good when it came to emotions.

Robert walked over to his wife. Though pretty dirty from having cleaned up the ashen kitchen, he took her in his arms, and Lottie buried her head in his chest, sobbing.

“I’m losing my mind,” she muttered, beginning to take hold of herself.

Lottie had always been a strong woman with strength of character to match, and though she gave into her emotions whenever they arose, she’d always quickly remind herself of that fact, and regain her composure. She lifted her head and looked up at her husband.

“Well…it could have been worse,” she finally said.

“There you go,” Robert replied with a smile.

Lottie looked at the kitchen and sighed.

“I can’t make dinner tonight,” she said. “Maybe I’ll just run out and pick us up something to eat.”

“Well, that’d be…”

Robert suddenly found the words catching in his throat. That was a terrible idea, his mind screeched. After what had just happened with Lottie today, try as he might to convince himself otherwise, it would be a stupid idea to allow her to get behind the wheel. Never mind the fact that Maddy would never let him hear the end of it if something happened…God forbid, of course.

“What’s wrong,” Lottie asked.

“Nothing,” Robert replied, shaking his head with a smile as he thought. “Nothing at all…How about you and I just go out to eat tonight?”

“Really,” Lottie asked, a little shocked at the comment, a smirk forming on her face. “I don’t know if you’ve met my husband, but Mr. Hargrove doesn’t like to go out to eat on a weeknight, unless it’s for a special occasion.”

Well, she had him there, Robert thought. It went against his precious routine, and Lottie had grown to accept this fact over the years. This wasn’t a special occasion, just an ordinary Tuesday night…well, minus the fact that the kitchen had been veritably burned to the ground, his dementia-stricken wife seemed to be getting steadily worse, and the fact that their children would soon descend upon the house out of concern for that fact…other than that, just an ordinary Tuesday.

“You’re a funny gal…but it is a special occasion,” he began.

“And what’s that,” Lottie asked.

“We’re going to celebrate the fact that we’ll be getting a brand-new kitchen,” Robert announced, throwing his arms up in the air with a laugh.

Lottie joined in on the amusement, looking relieved. Robert smiled, and embraced his wife for a kiss. She felt good in his arms at that moment, and he was determined to ensure that it wouldn’t change anytime soon.

Robert took a shower, while Lottie freshened up. They had decided on one of the more pricier restaurants in town for this ‘special occasion’, so Robert was finished and ready to go, as Lottie took nearly twice that time to make sure she looked her best for the outing. If they were going out, they mine as well go out in style, Robert had argued, though in all his years with the woman, he still couldn’t figure out why it took her so long to get ready. A mystery for another day, he thought, as she finally emerged from the bedroom.

She looked wonderful. She was wearing a blue gown that matched her eyes. It was an older piece of her wardrobe, but it was Robert’s favorite. The usual compliments between a man and woman of a decades old marriage ensued, and they were soon walking towards the front door. Lottie stopped, catching Robert’s attention, as she looked towards the kitchen. It was guilt or sorrow on her face anymore, though, he noted. It was a look of surprise, as if she were wondering what had happened in there.

Robert found his concern grow as she just stood there. He questioned whether to act or not, but Lottie made the decision for him, as she simply waved off the sight and turned back to her husband, all smiles, ready to leave for their unusual night out. The car ride was a silent one. Lottie seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, as she smiled out of the window. Robert found his own mind dwelling on Lottie’s strange behavior before they had left, which made him reflect even more on the day’s developments. It gave him anxiety, and he hated it.

None of that mattered, he told himself, clearing the thoughts from his mind. So what if her mind wasn’t all that clear anymore? She wasn’t a vegetable or anything, just a little forgetful. Nothing to worry about he reassured his mind. Nothing needed to change as far as Robert was concerned. He stole a look over at his wife. She was still smiling pleasantly out of the window.

Robert smiled, nodding his head slightly as he watched her. Just enjoying the car ride. Nothing to worry about at all, though his anxiety wouldn’t let up. He again pushed the thought aside, determined to instead revel in the fact that even though the decades had aged her, Lottie Hargrove was still one firecracker of a woman. Lottie still possessed that same natural beauty that had hooked him years before; that same intensity and energy that never seemed to diminish with age.

She still managed to gain his attention after all these years, without having to lift a finger. That thought stayed with him as they pulled into the parking lot, and walked into the restaurant. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, and Lottie would giggle and blush at the interest, though she’d try her hardest not to let him notice, which fueled him more, as it had when they were first dating.

“Don’t get any ideas into that head of your, Robert Hargrove,” she teased, pointing a finger at him with a smile, as the approached the front desk.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he quipped with a wink and smile.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hargrove,” the maitre d’ exclaimed as they approached. “On a weeknight? Whose birthday is it, if I may?”

Lottie let out a laugh, looking at Robert, as he took a turn feeling embarrassed, scuffing his shoe across the floor.

“Can we just have a table, if you wouldn’t mind,” Robert finally insisted.

“Of course,” the headwaiter said, with a wink towards Lottie, as she continued to enjoy the situation. “Right this way.”

The waiter led them to a table for two near the old brick fireplace that sat along the back wall of the restaurant. He seated them, gave them their menus, and left to get them the usual bread and butter starter.

“He had you pegged,” Lottie poked.

“Keep it up lady, and you’ll be washing dishes here tonight as payment for this meal,” he volleyed.

“And you keep it up, Mr. Hargrove,” she finished with a smirk, as she put on her reading glasses to look at the menu. “And that attitude will earn you a comfy spot on the couch tonight, instead of next to me.”

“Sassiness will get you everywhere, baby,” he laughed, pulling a pair of glasses from his pocket to do the same.

He found focusing on the menu to be impossible at that point, however, as his eyes would consistently drift above the menu to gawk at the beautiful woman sitting across from him. His mind began to drift into memories of their younger lives, and one in particular kept prodding its way to the forefront.

_____________________________________________

“If you don’t go talk to that fine looking woman, I’m going to.”

“I’ll do it, Buzz,” Robert responded, taking a cigarette from the lanky soldier next to him, as he continued to relax against a beat-up jeep.

“Five bucks says you won’t,” Buzz replied, lifting a flask to his bearded mouth, a helicopter flying in low over their heads.

Robert continued to stare at the young, vibrant woman who was running assessments over a truckload of wounded American and South Vietnamese forces. He and his unit had just returned from a combat mission. Though he and his division had been spared the brunt of injuries and casualties, other units hadn’t been so lucky. After days of losses, American and ARVN troops were finally pulled back to Nha Trang, South Vietnam to take care of their wounded and rest.

Sergeant Robert J. Hargrove had spent his time wandering around the medical camp since his arrival, trying to get the last few days out of his mind to no avail. That was until he caught sight of a new brand-new nursing recruit. She exuded a confidence that made him weak in the knees. He’d watch her from time to time, trying not to look like a pervert in doing so, but he couldn’t help himself. Robert found that he was quickly infatuated with her.

“You fella’s check out the new batch of sweet ass they sent our way,” another soldier asked as he walked up to Robert and Buzz, taking the flask, and throwing back a swig. “Nice, my friends…real fine quality.”

“Robbie here’s got a hard on for the brunette over there,” Buzz announced, nodding his head towards the nurse Robert had been eyeing.

“Oh, boy,” the soldier howled. “She’s a nice one! I’m gonna go get me some…”

“No,” Robert said, pushing off the jeep, finally convincing himself he was going to go talk to her. “I saw her first.”

“Watch out now, boys,” Buzz exclaimed. “Robbie Hargrove finally grew some balls!”

“Shut up,” Robert muttered, still eyeing the woman, trying to get his courage in order, as she walked back into the hospital tent.

“C’mon, Robbie,” the other soldier said. “All them pretty whores in Saigon, and you’re worried about talking to some nurse.”

“I’m not worried…”

“Then what’re you going to say to her,” Buzz asked laughed.

“I’ll think of something,” Robert smirked.

“Then go do it,” Buzz laughed again. “Or else somebody else is gonna get your girl.”

“Alright…alright, fine,” Robert replied sternly, taking the flask and draining it. “I’m going to do this.”

With a slap on the back from his buddies for extra confidence, Robert was on the move. He felt his stomach churning in nervousness, but there was no turning back now. He made his way into the medical area, and into the hospital tent that she had disappeared into. Robert navigated his way around some stretchers, peeking into the medical stalls, until he came across an empty one.

He slipped inside, and sat on the bed. How stupid, he thought, trying to calm his nerves with a few deep breaths. He had no idea if she would even be working this section or not…in fact, he didn’t even know her name. This whole idea was stupid. Just get off this bed, turn around, and get right back…

“Name?”

Oh crap. Robert looked up, stunned to find that beauty of a woman standing before him, wearing the white nurses uniform and cap that made her look like some glowing angelic form to him. His nerves kicked into overdrive. There was no turning back now, Robert thought. Time to put on his best and brightest smile and take a leap of faith.

_____________________________________________

“Mr. Hargrove?”

Robert glanced above his menu, this time at the voice of the headwaiter. He had sunk deep into that memory, and it took him a moment to regain himself.

“What’s that,” he replied, with a smile to Lottie, before turning to the waiter.

“What would you like to drink,” the man asked.

“Oh…just a water, please.”

“Very good,” the maitre d’ said, before turning to Lottie. “And you, ma’am?

She didn’t answer right away, and Robert finally took a good look at his wife in that moment. She had put the menu on the table, and was just gazing at the fireplace, with that same oblivious smile she had on in the car.

“Mrs. Hargrove,” the waiter asked, his own concern growing. “What would you like to drink ma’am?”

“Isn’t this fireplace grand, dear,” she said, seemingly unaware of the waiter’s question.

He turned to Robert with an awkward shrug, to which Robert just gave a nervous laugh. Something was wrong with his wife, and that familiar anxiety flooded back with effort.

“Lottie…what do you want to drink,” Robert asked his wife in a slightly tense tone.

His voice seemed to pull her back a bit, and she turned from the fireplace to look at her husband.

“What’s that, dear?”

“What do you want to drink, Lottie,” he asked again, anxiety rising slightly higher.

“Oh…I…oh,” she answered, her eyes darting from Robert to the waiter, and back again.

She was clearly confused, and something just seemed off in her eyes, Robert noted. She was becoming nervous and almost afraid, as if she didn’t recognize where she was. Robert needed to act before she lost it here in the restaurant.

“Lottie, honey,” He began, trying his best to stay calm. “We’re at the restaurant, remember? Out for our ‘special occasion’?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Lottie finally muttered, a smile on her face, though it masked the confusion that was still in her eyes, as she turned to the visibly concerned waiter. “I’ll have an ice tea, please.”

“Yes…yes, of course,” he replied with a friendly smile and nod, before he walked away. “Coming right up.”

“Why did we come out tonight, Robert, dear,” Lottie asked perplexed as the waiter left. “It’s a Tuesday night, and I don’t recall it being anyone’s birthday. I’ll tell you something, though, it’s a nice treat!”

Robert’s face dropped, and he felt his heart take a dive as well.

“Yes…it is a nice treat, isn’t it,” he replied sullenly.

Though Robert’s mood had changed significantly, dinner continued. Lottie’s mind continued to come and go randomly throughout the meal. Robert tried to downplay it as much as he could, though his mind wouldn’t allow him to escape the realization that his wife was very sick and definitely getting worse. The meal ended, and the two drove home, again in silence. Lottie went up to bed. Robert joined her, but sleep seemed to escape him.

His mind raced and worried. He couldn’t deny the fact the Lottie’s Alzheimer’s had progressed. Maybe Madison was right in calling home Robbie, he thought. Maybe they did need to sit down and discuss what was happening, and what would now need to be done. It was the only logical thing to do…too bad Robert was never the most logical of thinkers, especially when his stubbornness plunked down, refusing to move. And it had most certainly arrived.

“She doesn’t need anymore help,” he whispered in the darkness, battling his anxiety, drifting off to sleep. “She has me. She has her home. She’ll be fine. We’ll get through this.”

Morning came a little sooner than expected. Robert awoke with a headache, only to find the bed empty. His mind immediately went for the worse case scenario. Where was she? Had she gotten into the car or something? He panicked, his heart racing, only to find that Lottie was merely in the bathroom. Robert took a breath of relief to calm his nerves, but he had a feeling that this was the start of a rotten day. The hours would pass, and his premonitions would turn into unfortunate conclusions.

Right off the bat, his precious morning routine was thrown out of whack, as he walked downstairs, and remembered that the kitchen had been destroyed. No usual breakfast or coffee. Not a good start. Lottie’s mind seemed to be in a state of haze the entire day, never fully grasping reality, which made Robert’s unease that much worse, and his nerves frazzled, as he tried to keep her on track. It was exhausting, he realized.

In two days, it was if her dementia had progressed to a whole new level, which boggled Robert’s mind. She’d had her moments since getting diagnosed, that was for sure, but they were quickly multiplying, or maybe Robert was now distinctively aware of them. Had these episodes been happening with this frequency before, he asked himself. No, he assured his mind. If they had, he would have noticed, unmindful as he could be sometimes, he would have noticed.

Lottie would forget where she was for long stretches or what she’d been doing a minute ago; she’d constantly repeat stories and ask the same question a dozen times. It scared Robert to watch his loving wife lose it like this, and a nagging thought kept pounding on the wall of his stubbornness: Can I keep her here like this and care for her?

Soon, his burden was lifted, though a new anxiety threatened to take its place: Maddy had arrived at the house after having picked Robert Jr. at the airport. He loved his kids, that was for sure, but it was the reason why they were here that sent chills down his spine. They were going to have to talk about the future of his wife and their mother, and that wrenched his stomach like nothing else.

The kids quickly took to their mother, right away noticing that she wasn’t her normal self. Robert explained the day they had experienced, following the usual pleasantries. The rest of the day went by quickly. Having other people around to occupy Lottie helped, and she seemed genuinely happy to have them around, though the fogginess of her mind refused to lift. They ordered dinner in, reminisced and caught up, before Lottie retired for the night, complaining she wasn’t feeling that entirely well.

Robert was left alone with Maddy and Robbie. It was only a matter of time before the conversation he wished so hard to avoid would occur.

_____________________________________________

“Can you please think of someone other than yourself,” Maddy screamed across the kitchen table at her father.

“Maddy, calm down and sit down,” her father hollered back.

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” she fumed. “If there wasn’t a visible problem, I sure as hell wouldn’t even be here right now…”

“You know where the door is,” Robert replied, as Madison gasped at the comment, prepared to fully retaliate.

“Alright, this is getting out of hand already,” a salt and pepper haired man interrupted, putting cups of fresh coffee down between the warring family members, as he mouthed to ‘sit down, and let it go’ to Maddy. “Usually we can get at least half way through a conversation before screaming ensues.”

“Thanks Robbie,” Maddy muttered, taking the hot drink, and breathing in the steam, trying to calm herself.

Robert Sr. sat with arms crossed, slowly shaking his head.

“And your welcome Dad,” Robert Jr. said sarcastically to his father, as he sat between the pair at the kitchen table.

The dreaded conversation had started off fine. Once Lottie had gone to sleep, the small talk began to dwindle, phasing into the discussion at hand. They spoke about what had happened in the kitchen, and what had transpired over the following day. Everything was civil, but Robert could see that his children had other intentions; something else they were waiting to spring on him, that he knew in the back of his mind may be the foregone conclusion.

The trio had been talking for less than half an hour, and it had already descended into a screaming match, the surface niceties all but evaporated. The smell of burnt metal and plastic still hung in the air around them, almost pushing them to continue the conversation, just to be free of that room. The sheer obstinacy between father and daughter, however, ensured that they’d probably be there a lot longer than anyone would have liked.

“Did you get an estimate for the kitchen yet,” Robbie asked his father, trying to steer away from the main point of argument for the moment.

“Nope,” Robert replied, going along with the welcome change. “I called the insurance company this morning, but they said someone wouldn’t be able to come out until tomorrow at the earliest.”

“Oh, well that’s how it is dealing with them, I guess,” Robbie agreed. “Remember when I…”

“Are you freaking serious,” Maddy interrupted, her eyes widening, head slowly shaking.

Maddy wasn’t having any of it. This needed to be hashed out and finished.

“Mom. We are here to talk about our mother, Robbie. Not the stupid kitchen, alright?”

“Alright,” Robbie shrugged, seeing that there was no changing his older sister’s determination.

“Mom’s fine,” Robert Sr. said calmly. “She’s sleeping. She’s fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“You mean, until she decides to wake up in the middle of the night to…I don’t know…get in the car and drive herself to the store or something? Christ Dad! Mrs. Weisberg admitted to me that she found Mom wandering down the street the other day, not knowing how to get back home…and she was just going to get the mail!”

“Agnes Weisberg? That old crazy lady? Please, she was probably just making shit up. She never liked your mother anyway…”

“OK, Dad,” Maddy replied rolling her eyes. “Agnes and Mom have always been good friends…”

“I’ll get the mail from now on,” Robert Sr. responded with a wave of his hand, cutting off his daughter. “I’ll hide the car keys before I go to bed. Problem solved.”

“You can be such a…” she began to answer back.

“STOP! Seriously, just cut it the hell out,” Robbie screamed, taking both his sister and father by surprise.

“I am so sick of this shit between you two,” he continued, standing from his chair. “This isn’t some petty crap that were talking about here.”

He turned towards his sister.

“You need to calm down. Turning this into an insult fest isn’t going to help the situation, and we’re never going to get anywhere! Please, just take a deep breath or something.”

Maddy’s eyes went wide before she acquiesced to her little brother, as he turned towards his father.

“And Dad,” he began, running both hands through his hair. “You really need to stop being so hardheaded. Mom needs help. You can’t do it…”

“The hell I can’t,” Robert Sr. interrupted.

Robbie shook his head.

“You can’t Dad. You didn’t even stop her from using the stove.”

Robbie looked into his father’s eyes.

“I know this must be hard. I don’t believe I’m even discussing doing this for my mother. I can’t begin to imagine what it must be like deciding this for your wife. You love her,” Robbie continued calmly glancing at his still brooding sister. “We both know you do, but this isn’t about love, or if you can care for her all by yourself. This is about what’s best for Mom. The doctor says the disease is progressing a lot faster than they anticipated, even on the meds. You can’t do it yourself. You just can’t.”

Robert Sr. seemed huffed, but seemed to soften at his son’s words. Even Maddy seemed to drop her guard a bit as she watched her father.

“What if we all chipped in,” Robert Sr. asked in a quiet voice, eyes down. “Could she still stay here? Home? What if we just got some help from like an agency or something?”

Robert Jr. was about to answer, when Maddy put a hand on his arm.

“Mom is beyond just needing someone to pop in once in a while, and your insurance won’t cover having someone live here fulltime,” she began. “Robert is all over the world at any given time with his photography, I’m working two jobs, and trying to get my life back together, and God only knows where Vic even is at the moment. We can’t be here at a moment’s notice. We all live too far way, and she’s declining too fast. It was just pure luck that I decided to come see you guys the morning of the fire. If something were to happen with Mom…something that you couldn’t handle by yourself…”

Robbie shook his head agreeably, realizing that Maddy’s words were beginning to have an impact on their father.

“I know…We know it’s hard for you, Dad. It’s hard for us. But she’s not dying. We’re not talking about killing her. Just moving her someplace where she can have the help she needs, and be safe. And you can continue to be completely independent here in the house, without the worry of trying to care for her by yourself. You’re not getting any younger Dad, plus you have a heart condition. The stress of constantly trying to keep an eye on her would be too much.”

He paused.

“We’re slowly losing one of our parents,” he began again, tears filling his eyes. “We don’t need to lose both of you.”

Robbie’s talk seemed to have done the trick, both children noticed, as their father slowly nodded his head.

Maddy took the moment to slowly push the pamphlet under her father’s gaze. He eyed it, all of his anxiety and fear rolled up into one small folded sheet of colorful paper. He knew this was going to be the end result of their conversation from the beginning, and he hated it. Robert knew his son was right, however his mind railed against the idea, but putting his wife into a nursing home? Taking her out of the home she loved so dearly? It made him fell sick.

“Mountainside is only ten minutes down the road, as you know…”

“The place where your grandfather is,” Robert Sr. asked, muttering under his breath. “Joy of joys.”

“Yep. The same place where Pop is. They just opened a whole new Memory Pavilion a few months ago. I went there yesterday while I was visiting Poppop. It’s beautiful. I think Mom would do great here.”

“So do I,” Robbie agreed.

“But the same place her father is,” Robert Sr. asked, almost disgusted, as he put on his reading glasses to look over the pamphlet.

Both Maddy and Robbie rolled their eyes with a smirk and answered ‘Yes, Dad’.

“Mountainside Long-Term Care Center and Assisted Living. That’s the place where they wanted to send my wife. The care center had been opened decades ago, but had recently celebrated the opening of their much acclaimed Memory Care Pavilion. Two stories of newly renovated space, dedicated to those that suffered from memory disorders. No matter the name, though…no matter the purpose…it was just a glorified nursing home.”

“A place where you throw elderly people to die when you don’t want them around anymore. Believe me, I know. We’ve been going to that place for years to visit Lodi’s father, Harold,” Robert explained.

“The old coot is ninety-six years old, has been there for almost two decades, and just continues to hang around and annoy everyone in his presence.”

The crowd scoffed yet snickered at the comment.

“What’d he say,” an old man, with thick coke bottle glasses asked in a shaky voice, straining in his wheelchair to hear the man speak.

“He said he loves you, Poppop,” Robert Jr. replied with a smirk.

Harold Bernhardt scoffed, while hacking a little, waving his had dismissively.

“If that bag a’ waste said that, I’d curl up and die in this chair right now!”

Robbie couldn’t help but laugh, as his maternal grandfather sucked hard on his oxygen tank.

“And that’s where they wanted to send my Lottie. To the place that we committed her father when he could no longer care for himself so many years ago. Now they’d opened up some state-of-the-art ‘Memory Care’ pavilion, and Maddy and Robert had signed us up for a tour, more for me and Lottie to get accustomed to the place, more than them. They’d already been there. They knew what to expect. And that’s where they wanted to send my Lottie.”

_____________________________________________

“Hi Maddy, good to see you again,” the woman began, shaking Madison’s hand vigorously. “Mr. and Mrs. Hargrove, I presume? Welcome to The Warren F. Klein Memory Pavilion at Mountainside Long-Term Care Center and Assisted Living!”

Robert Sr., Lottie, and Madison walked through the automatic doors from the old Mountainside facility, into the new Memory Care Pavilion. He took a moment to look around the place, and had to admit, it was nice. Everything seemed to be brand-new and kept up nicely. He had to remind himself that this portion of the nursing facility was still pretty new.

Time was, the used to keep the Alzheimer’s patients in with the rest of the residents, but it had become clear, as more and more people came looking for a place to put their loved ones suffering from some sort of dementia, that a separate extension would be needed. It hadn’t yet taken on that patented ‘nursing home’ smell; that smell of the sick and elderly and the hopelessness they gave off, he always assumed it was, that the old part of the facility had. He hated that smell.

His view moved from the Pavilion itself, to the residents. They just seemed to roam around the halls, lost in their own minds. Some babbled to themselves, while others babbled to each other. There were two wheelchair bound individuals that just sat there having random conversations between them. Unable to wheel apart form each other, the loop of insanity just kept right on going.

They would look at the new comers, some diverting their to talk to themselves, while others continued to stare as if they were supposed to have known them somehow. Some looked like skeletons fumbling around, as if they hadn’t eaten in a while, but it wasn’t for lack of trying, he knew. He had shared more than a few meals in their resident dining areas when they’d come see his father-in-law for one reason or another. Food wasn’t that bad at all.

A dark part of his mind couldn’t help but think that if you put striped uniforms on these poor souls, added some barbed wire, taped it in black and white, and added some tragic violin music, you’d have something out of an old World War II documentary. The thought made him sink deeper into the worn out, tan ‘members only’ jacket he constantly wore.

And here they were, testing this place out to see if it would be a good home for his Lottie. This was a place you threw someone like Harold when they got old, not his Lottie.

“So, what do you think? First impressions,” the woman asked pleasantly.

“Fancy name for an extension of a nursing home,” Robert Sr. muttered, as the woman shook his hand.

“Oh no,” Mr. Hargrove, Janet Green, one of Mountainside’s many care representatives and self-proclaimed tour guides said happily. “The Pavilion is a brand new, state-of-the-art care center, dedicated to taking care of the long term needs of dementia and Alzheimer’s patients.”

“It does seem so very nice, dear,” Lottie said, putting her right arm throw her husbands crossed arms. “Oh look, they have birds!”

Lottie had found the Pavilion’s large display of in home ‘care pet’ parrots. There were four altogether, each at home in cages that made some Cape Cod style homes look small.

“Oh yes, Lottie,” Janet announced, following Lottie’s gaze, as she took the old woman’s hands in her own. “The Pavilion is home to many different kinds of animals that we keep in-house in order to assist and add to the therapy given here.”

“Great,” Robert muttered again. “My wife will be living in a zoo.”

This incurred a nudge to the side from Maddy who gave him a stern look.

“I do enjoy animals, Robert,” she said. “I hope we can afford to vacation here though.”

“Come with me, Mrs. Hargrove, and take you over to see the birds,” Janet said. “May I call you Lottie?”

“Oh yes, of course, dear,” Lottie said with a smile, joining Janet, as she walked over to the cages.

Robert sighed heavily, as he watched his wife walk over to the animals.

“Just try…try to be a little bit open to this,” Maddy pleaded.

“I’m here, aren’t I,” he responded. “I…”

He cut himself short, as he heard the automatic doors open again, and watched as a man and a teenage girl wheeled an elderly man in a wheelchair into the room.

“For the love of mercy,” Robert cringed.

“Well, lookie what we have here! If it isn’t Mr. Friendly and my beautiful granddaughter come to visit their oldest living relative,” Harold wheezed, breathing deep into his oxygen tank. “Wheel me over to your old man, Robbie! I want to give him the ol’ ‘one two’ while I can.”

Harold clenched his fists. To Robert Sr., the old man’s closed, shaking hands looked like two rotten apples attached to broom sticks covered in rice paper. He couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Harold. Still alive I see,” he said.

“I’ll out last you, you son of a bitch,” his father-in-law responded.

A normal hello as it was for these two men.

The teenage girl accompanying Robbie and Harold walked to Robert Sr., and put her arms around his waist, resting her head against his back.

“Nah,” Gabrielle Keller said. “My Pop is going to live forever.”

Robert put his hands around the fifteen year old girl’s arms, and lit up with a big smile, as this young woman had the power to make him do oh so often, and flashed his white teeth towards Harold.

“Chew on that for a while, old man,” he responded, head held high.

“I’ll give ya something’ to chew on, you…”

“Alright then,” Maddy announced, coming between the two old foes, hands up. “That’ll be enough. We aren’t at home. We’re guests at the moment. Gabby, wheel your great-grandpa away from your grandfather please.”

“Alright Mom,” Gabrielle answered, giving her grandfather a peck on the cheek before she did.

“Now hang on a minute there, young lady. I ain’t no guest,” Harold scoffed, as Gabby approached his chair. “I am home. I got a reason to be here any who! Which reminds me…where is my dearest offspring anyway?”

“She’s right here, Harold” Janet said hesitantly, a look of frustration hidden under her big, friendly smile.

“Oh, my Chocolate Goddess,” Harold announced, both arms rising, as his cataract-filled eyes fell upon Janet. “Come over here and give me some of that brown sugar!”

Janet clenched the teeth forming her smile, and took a steadying breath.

“No, Harold. You know the rules…”

“Fuck ‘em,” he exclaimed in return.

“Jesus Christ, Pop,” Maddy said, approaching her daughter and grandfather. “Leave the poor woman alone!”

“It’s quite alright. Something we have to get used to with some of our residents,” Janet responded, before turning to retrieve Lottie, her gaze returning to the parrots. “Lottie, honey, come here and see who came to see you!”

“Come over and see Poppop,” Robbie added, guiding Lottie back over to the group.

“C’mere, my gorgeous daughter,” Harold said, nearly pushing his body to the edge of the wheelchair. “Give your ole Daddy a big smooch!”

Lottie hesitated.

The group fell quiet as the look in her eyes turned quizzical, as if you could see the gears in her mind straining to work. Harold’s smile slowly softened into a frown.

“Do I know this man, dear,” Lottie asked her son.

“That bad, huh,” Harold mumbled to Maddy and Gabby, both of whom just nodded slightly in return.

“Yes, Mom,” Robbie answered gently. “It’s your father. It’s Pop. Your Daddy.”

For a moment, the gears of Lottie’s mind didn’t seem to except the assistance, but then, like a light fog lifting on a spring morning, she smiled, and scampered over to Harold.

“Oh Daddy, you old sweet talker,” she said brightly. “How are you? You look well…”

Robert Sr. sighed. Lottie was getting worse, he had to admit. She almost didn’t recognize her own father. Perhaps this was the best place for her…

“Squirrel.”

“Wh-what,” Robert Sr. asked, his attention turning from Janet Green and his family to the person that uttered the word.

He looked down to find a man not much older than himself seated in a wheel chair, bathrobe slightly undone, so that you could see an old white t-shirt. A tattered quilt covered his waist and legs. He was of average build, but balding heavily, to the degree that one could see that the scalp underneath seemed to almost form a point.

“Squirrel. He likes you.”

The man held out an old children’s toy for Robert to see. It was a little six inch stuffed brown squirrel, worn out on and discolored in places, whiskers of black yarn shooting out in strange directions, while others were missing altogether.

“OK,” Robert finally responded, hesitantly. “Glad to hear that. Can you…uh…wheel away from me or something”

The man scowled a bit, and then turned the stuffed animal so that he was looking into its button eyes.

“I don’t think he likes you, Squirrel,” the man said calmly, eyeing Robert. “Yeah, I think he’s rude too…”

“My God, he’s talking to a stuffed squirrel,” Robert said, running a hand over his stubbly face, as the other fingered the pack of Marlboros in his side jacket pocket. He glanced back to Lottie, suddenly concerned that maybe this wasn’t the best decision after all. “This place is like One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest”.

“His name is Willy,” Janet Green said gently, approaching the old man and Robert. “Moderate to late stage dementia. Causes him to suffer from hallucinations at times…”

“What did that bitch say,” Willy asked, insulted, his voice turning low and angry, much to Robert’s shock.

“Told us we got mind problems,” Willy answered Squirrel, his voice returning to normal.

“Talking…through his stuffed animals…helps him to communicate,” Janet answered, Willy’s insult rolling off of her shoulders. “Isn’t that right Willy?”

“Bah,” he responded in the squirrel’s voice.

“Alright then, Willy, looks like it’s time for lunch. Why don’t you go with Bernie and find your friend Duck so you don’t miss it,” Janet said softly, as an orderly approached Willy’s chair to take him to lunch.

“Duck,” Robert asked, almost afraid of the answer, as Willy disappeared down the hallway.

“Another stuffed animal. They comfort him.”

Robert simply nodded. Janet could see the concern growing in his eyes, as he glanced back over to Lottie and his family.

“Whatever makes our residents comfortable, we accept and embrace here,” she began. “The Pavilion is a place where those cursed with memory disorders can come and find the help they need to guide them through…to help them as best we can…as their minds diminish. These are terrible conditions, but that’s just life. We do our best to make sure they get the best care we can give, while continuing to live their lives the best way they know how at any given moment.”

She placed her hand on Robert’s arm, as he continued to look towards Lottie.

“We aren’t taking your wife from you,” she added. “We’re just here to allow her to live whatever is left of that life without incident.”

Robert just nodded.