A/N 1: Yet another hiatus, more brief this time. But during that time, I finished my middle grade novel and sent some query letters to agents! Not that it'll be accepted anywhere of course, but still an accomplishment. :) I also got to participate in a musical, which I find incredibly hilarious and fitting given the frequent reference to musicals in this fic. I didn't realize I had interest in participating in musicals, but I suppose that had been brewing in me all this time. Who knew? #ThisIsWhyWritingIsAmazing #InnerTruths
A/N 2: As an American, I'm completely unfamiliar with British healthcare or what the options are for people with Alzheimer's in the UK. Please forgive (what I'm sure are) huge inaccuracies in that regard. I've basically presented American options.
A/N 3: This chapter comes at you from our worldwide time of trauma. I hope you're ok out there. If you need to talk, I'm here. Stay safe. You are loved and needed. #StayHomeWithMe and read fanfic!
A/N 4: Content warning for mentions of sexual assault and emotional difficulties due to that. No graphic content.
Anna distractedly stacked the food containers in Mrs. Bates' refrigerator. She was amazed and saddened at the amount of work John was apparently now putting in daily to care for his mother. In addition to preparing all his mum's meals at his flat, he was transporting them over each day, bringing the dirty food containers home, checking all the appliances were still unplugged, searching for other hazards, and of course, happily spending several hours keeping his mum company. She was thankful he'd gotten his novel finished when he did and no longer wondered why he'd taken a teaching hiatus. Everything he was doing here was more than a full time job in itself.
"I'll make the tea, Love," Mrs. Bates told Anna when she tried to reach for the kettle. "It's the only time I get to, when John's here," she said matter of factly, pulling the packed kettle from one of the bags Anna and John had brought with them.
Looking through the kitchen, Anna knew all the precautions still weren't enough. It would be far too simple for Mrs. Bates to plug the stove back in, to start the microwave with metal in it. And there was the potential she wouldn't be discovered for hours. How did you simultaneously toddler-proof a house — a life — while preserving her dignity? But she had the sinking feeling Mrs. Bates was far beyond that point anyway. Anna had serious concerns that she was no longer safe on her own.
"John tells me you have a beautiful voice," Mrs. Bates said once they were all settled with tea and the biscuit tin. "Have you ever performed?"
"There was this one time when I was teaching," Anna giggled. "It wasn't exactly planned. The headmaster announced the national anthem at an assembly and then handed me the microphone."
"He expected you to sing it? With no notice?"
"He did," Anna shook her head, still incredulous at the memory.
"And you did it?"
"I did. Over in a flash. The entirety of my singing career."
"He's lucky you've got such a good voice. Just the other day I had people here singing."
"Oh?" Anna probed, while John looked away.
"Oh yes. They come around sometimes. People singing in the garden. They have a party. It's very nice. They're friendly." Mrs. Bates explained cheerfully.
"It does sound nice," Anna agreed. She was grateful that if Mrs. Bates was having delusions that they were at least happy ones.
"Your eyes are lovely. They look just like my sister's did, and my mum's. Like the sky on a beautiful spring morning. The promise of good things to come."
"Thank you," Anna smiled, enjoying the warmth of her drink.
"And what is it you do?" Mrs. Bates asked Anna, not remembering that she'd already had a moderately lengthy chat about it moments before as they'd together prepared the tea. But Anna didn't mind. She explained again with the same amount of detail.
"Mam," John cut in. "How's about I get the photo album and you can tell Anna all my most embarrassing stories?" He smiled boyishly.
"Now that sounds like a fun afternoon!" Mrs. Bates agreed cheerfully. And with that, they were treated to nearly an hour of laughs, tales of gut-wrenching worry and keeping busy during John's deployment, and reminiscences of romance from the early years of the Bates' relationship. Mrs. Bates knew her stories well, but there were several times when Anna sensed Mrs. Bates believed she was telling cherished memories to strangers seated in front of her. She'd forget who Anna and John were for several minutes and look around concernedly for her children before recognizing the adult John again. The photo album had been a helpful tool to keep Mrs. Bates grounded, but even still, she faded fast. John went to settle her in bed, and Anna, shocked at the severity of Mrs. Bates' condition, hopped up to tidy the kitchen and pack everything back away.
Anna and John were both quiet on the tube ride back home, both tired from the vigilance and reassurances required during keeping company with Mrs. Bates. Anna rested her head on John's shoulder, prepping herself for the sensitive conversation she knew was not only necessary but necessary immediately.
Thankful for the bags as an excuse to join John in his flat, Anna wasted no time.
"I'm so glad I got to visit your mum. She's wonderful," Anna began as she started unloading and washing the tupperware. "She seems like she must've been wonderful to grow up with, the way she kept looking for child-you like that. Wanting to make sure you were safe."
"Anna…" John interrupted wearily. "Please just say it."
Anna's stomach tensed. She didn't want to hurt John. But unsafe was unsafe. She would've spoken up anyway, but she was glad for John's concedence.
"I admire all you're doing for her. I'd wish the same for myself. But John, I'm sorry, but she's not safe the way it is right now. It didn't feel any sort of right leaving her there alone. Suppose she wanders off to that 'garden party' tonight? Suppose she wakes up scared and not knowing where she is? Do you know how much dementia patients don't sleep? She needs round the clock supervision. By trained people. Love isn't enough anymore."
"I know. It's gotten this way very, very quickly," John acknowledged, but also with a tone that said he didn't want to discuss it further.
"I don't think she even had a full 15 minutes where she was fine, John. Really, I've half a mind to go back right now." Anna pressed.
"None of the options are good. Either an institution where she'll be neglected if not abused or I move in and give her sub-par care or I hire a babysitter - who may also turn out to be neglectful at best."
Anna couldn't counter any of his views on elderly care. "But the current option can no longer be an option. You must see that," she said gently.
John sighed, but didn't say anything. Anna left the dishes to envelop John's arm and caress the back of his neck.
"You could still visit every day," Anna was nearly whispering now. "Make sure she's treated well. But let someone else do the work. She's past the point of knowing who makes her meals or does her dishes. Leave yourself to simply make her happy," Anna soothed. 'In 10 years, those will be the memories you want. You talking to her, her making you laugh, brightening each other's days."
John nodded.
"You don't have to do this alone anymore. Let me do some research, bring you two some options."
After locking and alarming all the doors and doing a security walk of the shelter, Anna grabbed a cup of coffee and set about researching local assisted living facilities that would accept Alzheimer's and dementia patients. There wasn't much to work with. The senior living communities seemed to be nearly entirely set up for people who were only experiencing normal physical deterioration, people who were safe inside their own heads. She did locate one, exactly one, facility that seemed to be both humane and set up for the level of care Mrs. Bates needed.
Mrs. Bates, Anna mused. How lovely if one day she could refer to herself by that name. She silently vowed to forever cherish the title if she should ever get to share it.
It'll be ridiculously expensive, Anna forcibly returned her thoughts to the task at hand. It appeared to be nearly luxury living. Anna wished there were an available level of comfort somewhere between the tropical vacation and prison settings she'd found, but when it came to senior living, there never seemed to be a middle ground. Anna had always figured John must have at least some expendable income between his veteran's pension and his novel earnings, but now that she thought about it, living next to her in an equally shabby and scrawny flat didn't bode well for what might be available in his wallet. But perhaps that was because he was already paying all his mum's bills. Perhaps it wouldn't be that much of a financial change if he were able to funnel the expenses into this facility, this… "Hope Senior Living." What a cliche' name.
"Anna! I'm so glad you're here! Get in here. I've GOT to show you my herb garden."
Anna entered Gwen's apartment, somewhat warily, wondering if Gwen had installed UV lights and a greenhouse in place of her bedroom or exactly what sort of shock she was in for.
The actual "garden" turned out to be really rather ingenious. On the kitchen table, and on any other available surface, was a collection of discarded coffee tins and glass jars, all of which had a plant thriving out of the top. Like everything else, Gwen had found a way to make her newest idea as earth-friendly as possible.
"I'm trying hydroponics." Gwen lifted the lid of one of the coffee cans to show there was only water surrounding the root web. "No dirt, no bugs!" she demonstrated happily.
"I'll save you all my coffee cans," Anna smiled.
"And jars too!" Gwen continued. "I can help you start your own! I'll grow herbs, you can grow lettuce and spinach, and then we can share!"
Anna smiled again. She loved Gwen's projects. And the passion with which she worked on them.
"But that's not the real reason I invited you over. I want to hear how it went with John's mum." Gwen said with concern.
"Uggg, not how I thought it was going to, that's for sure," Anna said, helping herself to some of Gwen's crisps. "I haven't been able to stop worrying about her since we left."
"She's that far along?" Gwen asked sadly, taking some crisps for herself.
"I wasn't expecting her to be so bad." Anna's eyes were wide. "I thought surely John would've gotten some help far before this point… Really, it's practically a reportable situation..." Anna shook her head, the shock coming back to her. "And I truly am sorry I didn't visit her sooner…" Invasive guilt had been a nasty side effect of the visit that Anna hadn't expected.
"A few weeks wouldn't have made much difference. If she had good moments, you met her," Gwen reassured. "And there's no undoing it. We can only go forward. Speaking of," Gwen began with renewed interest, "How are things between you and John? Are you seeing him in a better light? Less pedophile-ish?"
Anna laughed. Gwen's wisdom had rung true. Anna was an old soul and needed a similarly sage soulmate. "Yes… I think…" she shook her head. "Honestly, worrying about his mum has taken most of the heat out of the romance," she explained a little sadly.
"So you're like an old married couple. Brilliant," Gwen said both genuinely and with a hint of disappointment. "Skipped right over the fun bits and straight to the middle-age struggles. And you're happy about that, aren't you," she finished pointedly.
"Wow. Um…" Anna pondered this. She was beginning to dislike Gwen's talent for knowing her better than she knew herself. Gwen was going to make an excellent therapist.
"If that really is the case, now you can honestly say it's not your youthful looks he's attracted to. If there hasn't been any bedroom action." Gwen observed. "He really does love you."
"It's not that there hasn't been any," Anna began to defend but was having difficulty finding words. She hadn't been expecting to have such a difficult topic sprung on her. It wasn't that it felt invasive. She'd tell Gwen anything. She just… wasn't sure...
Gwen gave Anna a bit of time but then dug back in. "Sex still scares you a lot, doesn't it?" she asked as casually as if she were asking about a lack of interest in Japanese food.
Anna hesitated but knew it was no use trying to deceive Gwen. She nodded sheepishly, reluctantly, and put the crisps back up for an excuse to look away.
"Hey no worries at all. Perfectly normal for a lot of people. Especially after a trauma. Is it the actual sex though or other parts of a relationship? Because you seem to be doing ok with the other parts? Even commitment?"
Anna suddenly felt tainted. She knew she'd somewhat hinted at it herself. It's not like she was trying to hide it exactly, but she thought she'd come at the descriptions from a bad relationship angle, not an assault angle. Gwen could tell what had happened to her. And John clearly knew too. It was visible, obvious. This was why she didn't let people get close to her. They'd see the blight. She hated herself for it.
"If it's the sex, something they say helps is trying it out on your own. Figuring out what you like again. You're in charge. Nobody else there. A safe place to explore and take back control, to feel good on your terms." Catching the look on Anna's face, Gwen quickly redirected herself. "Anna, truly, if this wasn't a common issue, there wouldn't be advice for it, ok? It's not just you. I mean look at me, a 'kingdom of isolation, and it looks like I'm the queen." Gwen sang theatrically as she retrieved some chocolate for both of them from her candy tin. "I'm just trying to live through you a bit. And that's wrong. I'm sorry. You're doing things that I clearly can't, and I'm proud of you. I mean, you've got a great guy, and I'm over here excited about growing plants in an old jar. There's no comparison. Be proud of how much you've grown." She broke off a huge chunk of the Cadbury and handed it to Anna. "So I only want to tell you two more things before I dig myself out of this awkward hole and we watch Disney+. One: I'm your sister, and you can tell me anything, and I will always love you and never judge you. And two: there is a thing called asexual. Look it up. See if it fits anything you're experiencing. From the sound of it, I don't think it's you, but I just wanted to put out there that there's a legit sexual orientation where you don't feel sexual attraction. Even if it's not you, you should know about it. And think about everything I've said, and we'll reconvene when you're ready. I'm determined that you get the great relationship you deserve. You've gotta live it up for both of us," Gwen finished somewhat mournfully.
Anna waited for John to answer his door, still feeling slightly exposed and grimy from Gwen honing in on the worst parts of her. None of it really mattered right now anyway. She'd have to shove those thoughts to the back burner, something she was expert at. The situation with John's mum was at crisis point, and there would be no worrying about anything else until that was resolved. But was she scared of commitment? She didn't think so. Not commitment itself. It was intimacy, emotional as well as physical, that held the fear. It was why she fled everything from jobs to men to even friendships. Yet, for whatever reason, she hadn't fled Gwen. Or John. Not that she hadn't tried. So maybe she was capable of change. But again, another matter for another day.
"There's a waiting list," John announced immediately upon opening the door. "Not a long one, but it takes a while to get a spot."
"We have to wait… for someone to die…" Anna understood grimly.
"Or for them to expand their facility," John offered slightly more positively as he anxiously guzzled his tea. "Which is in the works. Sometime in the next decade," he added sardonically.
Anna, feeling at home in John's flat, began to prep her own cup of tea, deciding mid-way through the kettle heating that the day had been rough enough to warrant hot cocoa instead.
"There are a lot of decisions I simply can't make right now." John said helplessly.
"Like what?" Anna questioned with wide eyes. Surely John wasn't about to continue to leave his mum unattended.
"Like this flat," John said exasperatedly. "I considered moving Mum over here, keeping an eye on her while we wait out the list, but it makes much more sense for me to go over there."
Anna's stomach plummeted for what felt like the fifteenth time that day. He was leaving her. This. This was why she didn't get close to people.
"Her house is familiar to her. And considerably larger. It's safer for both those reasons. I can start cleaning and selling off the stuff inside, probably start another novel. It makes more sense."
Anna nodded. It did make more sense. But logic didn't make the situation any less painful.
"So do I give up the flat? Or will I want to sell the house instead? How long will we be on the waiting list? I don't really even have time to move out." John would've been pacing if his knee would've allowed it.
Anna stirred her hot chocolate slowly, waiting for John's meanings to unfold.
"None of that matters today. What matters today is I'm going to stay with Mum tonight. And then tomorrow, I'll come back here to pack for a longer term stay. Kumquat and Shelly will go with me. They'll help cheer Mum up," John smiled weakly.
"You'll stay at your mum's until she's moved into Hope," Anna clarified in a deadened monotone, willing her mind to steer away from the selfish thoughts brewing and focus instead on the fact that this was of course the only appropriate solution. She was going to need more hot chocolate.
"Yes. And what I'd like you to consider while I sort out all the other details is coming to stay with me. At Mum's."
Anna's mouth fell limply open, and she gaped at John. Her breath caught. She had whiplash from the sudden release of the ever-growing weight the day had thus far been accumulating.
"Maybe just on weekends at first," John offered. "If you like. Make your own schedule. Test it out."
"Test it out," Anna repeated blankly. "Test out living together," she whispered in awe.
"I'd miss you otherwise." John tenderly took Anna's mug from her and set it on the counter, folding her into a gentle embrace. "I don't want to continue this without you."
Anna, appreciative of the sudden relief after such a draining day, wearily rested her cheek on John's chest as he caressed his fingers through her hair.
"I love you, Anna Smith. I'd like it if you were with me."
