Chapter 12: The Cold Return
David gently draped his suit jacket over his mother’s trembling shoulders as he knelt beside her on the cold concrete landing. Water dripped from his short brown hair, but he didn’t seem to notice. Martha looked up at him with wide, uncomprehending eyes, clutching the damp fabric of her nightgown as if she were a frightened child lost in a storm.
“Mom, what were you doing out here? You could have caught pneumonia,” David said, his voice a mixture of desperate relief and underlying panic.
“I was looking for the gate,” Martha whispered softly, her teeth chattering slightly in the cold autumn air. “The gate to the pasture. Clara said she left it open.”
Jessica arrived a moment later, breathless and soaked from the rain. Taking in the heartbreaking scene, all her lingering frustration melted away instantly. She knelt beside Martha on the wet concrete, ignoring the water soaking through her black pants.
“Martha, let’s get you inside where it’s warm,” Jessica said gently, her voice calm and steady, devoid of any harshness.
Martha looked at Jessica, a brief flicker of recognition crossing her pale blue eyes. She nodded slowly, allowing Jessica and David to support her as they guided her back up the service stairs and into the warmth of the apartment.
Once inside, they stripped off her wet nightgown, wrapped her in thick wool blankets, and seated her by the radiator in the living room with a mug of hot chamomile tea. David moved with silent efficiency, fetching dry clothes and tending to his mother with a quiet, heartbroken gentleness.
Jessica sat on the edge of the sofa, watching Martha slowly sip the tea. The reality of the degenerative disease was crashing down on them with undeniable force. The breakthroughs and lucid conversations were miraculous, but they didn’t stop the march of time or the relentless erosion of Martha’s mind.
“We can’t keep doing this alone, David,” Jessica said quietly, looking across the room at her husband once Martha had drifted off to a fitful sleep.
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David sat down in the armchair, resting his head in his hands. The corporate confidence that defined his professional life was entirely gone, leaving behind a weary, grieving son. “I know. I talked to Dr. Harrison this morning before I left the office. There’s a specialized memory care facility in town. It has an opening next month.”
Jessica felt a heavy ache in her chest. For so long, she had wanted Martha out of the house to reclaim her own life. Now, standing on the precipice of that reality, the thought felt like another kind of loss.
