Jameson (In the Company of Snipers #22) - Irish Winters Page 0,78

sure as hell wasn’t going to saddle Kelsey with it. That meant his father’s feeding, bathing, and God, more intimate personal care than Alex wanted to think about, would be his responsibility now. He’d be the father; Mel would be the child. Son of a bitch. What an ugly kid.

“I’ll mail you and your wife a list of homecare businesses that are reasonably priced,” Denton continued quietly. “When things deteriorate, and they will, you’ll have to move him into a nursing home. I’d advise you to start looking for one now. There are waiting lists. He’s a big guy, and there’s no way to know how fast this disease will progress. He could wake up one morning and unintentionally hurt your wife or children. I don’t recommend you take that chance.”

“I won’t.” Alex’s cheeks ballooned with a measured exhalation, half of him pissed that his dad had shown up only when he’d needed something, the other half pissed he’d never given so much as a thin dime to Gramps after he’d dumped Alex on him, then disappeared from everyone’s life.

All right then. Plan B. Clear a temporary bedroom. Set another place at the table. Get Mel a decent set of new clothes, shoes, and a shaving kit. Set him up with a live-in nurse. Figure things out from there.

“There are medications that may help you regain some of your memory,” Doc Denton told Mel.

Of course, Mel, who knew absolutely nothing about everything, waved that smart suggestion off. “Don’t use drugs. Never have. Not going to start now.”

If true, that at least, was good to know. But he would take whatever medication Denton prescribed. Alex would make damned sure of that.

“It would be smart if you discussed this life change with your lawyer, Alex. Take care of what details you can, now. Powers of attorney. Living wills. Trusts and estates. Probate issues.”

Alex grunted. “That’ll be easy. He doesn’t own anything.”

“Yes, I do!” Mel declared, his chest stuck out again, like the braggart he was.

Again… there was no sense debating with a fool.

“Please stay in touch, Alex,” Denton said with a distinct undertone of sadness. “I know how hard this is going to be for you. My wife’s mother suffered with Alzheimer’s for years. Don’t be afraid to ask for help when life gets too tough. There are plenty of good resources for patients and caregivers. I’d like to see him next week if that’ll work for both of you. Make an appointment at the front desk on your way out.”

For years? Alex ran a hand over his head, the sudden yoke of caretaker for his elderly, belligerent father heavier than he’d expected. Guess that was part of the figuring-things-out stage. Which, until today, was something he’d always been good at. Making quick adjustments at the last moment. Plotting a sure azimuth in wicked, stormy weather. Only the monumental task before him now, felt more like a son of a bitchin’ category four hurricane than just a simple change of direction.

“You bet,” he replied with a sigh. “Come on, Mel. Let’s go.”

“Why, sure!” Mel exclaimed, as Denton helped him down off the table. “See ya later, asshole.”

“Next week,” Denton replied calmly.

“Thanks, Doc,” Alex said as he shook the patient, understanding guy’s hand. “Sorry about my dad—”

“Call me,” Denton interrupted sternly. “Don’t think you have to go through this alone. It’s going to get harder. Reach out. I will always be here to help you and your family.”

“Thanks. I will.”

At the front desk, Alex made the next appointment while Mel flirted with some young thing in the waiting area, like the old letch he was. The ride back to Kelsey was quiet. Alex had a lot on his mind. He still had to deal with Mother’s demand to be made partner, and he’d soon be losing Ember to a couple months of maternity leave. She wouldn’t be there to provide solid technical support. Beau Villanueva had proven to be a top-notch techie, but he didn’t mix well with Mother. Like that was a surprise. Beau didn’t appreciate being bossed, and bossing was what she did best.

The op with Jameson Tenney and Maddie had ended with them being secured at a nearby safe house. But Lucy Delaney—God, he hated that name—was still out there somewhere. She’d disappeared after Taylor and Maverick had tracked her down and confronted her. He’d sicced whatever TEAM agents were available on finding her, but so far, no luck. Eric had already phoned in a timely Sit Rep. All things