her. Morning, Shamu. Where’s your good-for-nothing husband?”
“His dad needed him today.” Chris’s family owned several nurseries and ran a large landscaping business in the area, which Chris oversaw day to day. Asher worked in their admin offices. Nina sniffed at me over her shoulder. “Ew. Couldn’t you have at least rinsed off the sweat?”
I held my damp shirt away from my body. “And deprive you ladies of my natural scent? Why would I do that?”
“Gross. No wonder you can’t get a date.”
“I don’t want a date.” I grabbed a piece of buttered toast off the plate and took a giant bite.
My sister slapped my hand. “That’s for breakfast, jerk.”
“Perfect, that’s why I came. Got any coffee?”
“It’s in the pot,” said my mother, sliding fried eggs onto the chipped blue platter she’d put Sunday bacon and eggs on for as long as I could remember. “Could you two please stop bickering? I already have a headache.”
“Sorry, Ma.” I poured a cup and leaned back against the yellowed Formica. “Where’s Ash?”
“Resting.”
I nodded. Living with CP meant his body expended something like five times the energy mine did just doing everyday tasks. Going up a flight of stairs was like a marathon for him. “How was his week? I didn’t see him much.”
“Okay. He’s been having trouble sleeping. Seems agitated about something. And he had a partial seizure yesterday.” She shook her head. “I think he’s working too much.”
My gut clenched. A partial wasn’t as bad as the tonic-clonic seizures Asher sometimes had as a child, but they still made me worry. “Is he still taking the muscle relaxant at night?”
“Yes.”
“How about exercise? Did he go to swimming last week? Or do his stretches?”
“Swimming, yes. I haven’t seen him stretch much lately.”
“I’ll try to get him out for a walk with Renzo later. Sometimes that helps with the sleep.” Asher loved walking Renzo and just being around him in general. I think he enjoyed feeling like a caretaker, since he was always the one being worried about and fussed over, usually by my mom. Despite the fact that she worked full time, she refused to hire any outside help for Asher except for a neighbor lady named Mrs. Reynolds, who drove him to and from work or therapy, and occasionally put together meals for him if my mother had to work late—which she often did. I knew she worried about money, especially with my dad gone, but I’d promised him I wouldn’t let her run herself into the ground, and I was always trying to get her to take a vacation.
“You book your ticket yet?” I asked her. For months she’d been hemming and hawing about visiting her two sisters in Florida during the winter, or joining them on a Caribbean cruise. She had terrible arthritis that was always worse during the cold months, and it got pretty fucking cold during Michigan winters. I’d told her a million times to book it—I’d stay with Asher while she was gone, or he could come stay with me. I had a downstairs bedroom all ready for him.
“Not yet. Here. Make yourself useful.” My mother handed me the platter of eggs and bacon. “Put this on the table, please. And the orange juice.”
I stole a piece of bacon off it first. “Take the trip, Ma. You’re not getting any younger.”
My mother poured more coffee in her cup. “I’m still thinking about it. But it’s difficult to get all the days off at work, and—”
“I specifically remember you and Dad talking about retiring in your sixties so you’d still be young enough to enjoy your life,” I said. “You’re sixty-two already.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” she said drily.
“I’m just saying, you need to do these things while you still have the energy. Didn’t you two always talk about going to Ireland?”
“You think I want to do that by myself?”
“So get your sisters to go. Ask a friend. Join a tour group. You don’t have to go alone if you don’t want to.”
“He’s right, Mom,” my sister chimed in. “There are plenty of options. You should do it.”
She wiped up some spilled coffee on the counter, her lips pressed together. “It’s not just work. It’s the expense. And leaving Asher is hard. He needs me. I cook all his meals and do all his laundry. I make sure he’s eating and sleeping and not working too much. I make sure his communicator is charged because he often forgets to plug it in. And the disruption to his routine will—”