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Chapter 2
John had lived at the Smith house for several weeks now. He found out quickly that Ms. Smith and her girls remained upstairs and that she rarely checked in on her mother downstairs. She had a maid and a nanny, who were at the house often. The maid did come downstairs to clean up and do a deep clean, but John was in charge of keeping it together between her visits.
Martha slept a decent amount of the day, but then was awake most of the night. John had to adjust his sleep schedule to accommodate her needs. She couldn't be left alone for long chunks of time. He had to make sure that things remained unplugged and that she wasn't able to turn on the stove.
When he came downstairs around nine am, he was surprised to find her already awake for the day. He had just been with her at five until she fell asleep on her chair. Usually, she'd sleep until closer to ten. She was in her chair, though, watching the television with all the lights off.
He flicked on the light in the kitchen and began to prepare her and him something to eat for a late breakfast.
"John?" Martha questioned. He was surprised she remembered his name. She often called him man or nurse. She was never shocked by seeing him, but she often forgot his name. Her memory was spotty, at best. But somehow she hadn't forgotten him.
"Making breakfast," he called back. He heard her climb out of her chair and make her way into the kitchen. Her hair was a tangled mess and the robe she insisted on wearing daily had a stain on the collar. He would need to bathe her and convince her to put on a different robe, but he would wait until breakfast was done. She was easier to manage when she was fed.
Once the eggs were cooked, he placed them and some toast on the plate and pushed it over to her. He then made himself a plate.
"Girls!" Ms. Smith's voice boomed overhead. John glanced up. Martha just shook her head.
"She's always so cross," Martha stated before taking a bite of her eggs. Above them, they could hear the sounds of small feet rushing across the floor. It was a weekend and John wondered if Anna was going to bring the girls downstairs to say hello to their grandmother.
Instead of the door to the downstairs opening, however, he heard the front door open and shut. John stood from his chair and walked over toward the window. He could see Ms. Smith helping her daughters into the car, appearing flustered. Then she climbed into the front seat and drove away. He sighed.
"She won't come down here," Martha just answered. "She's too busy for her own mother."
John turned toward Martha and offered her a small smile.
"I'm sure she'll come by later this evening," he tried. Martha just shrugged her shoulders.
"Don't count your eggs before they're hatched."
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Anna rested her back against her car with her arms crossed against her chest. She then saw her girls rushing toward her and pressed herself up off the car and forced a smile on her lips. Arya made it to her first, holding up a large bag of cotton candy in her hand. Taking in a deep breath, Anna forced her smile to grow larger.
"Look Mum!" Her seven year old happily said. Gracie came up behind her sister with a similar bag within her own hands.
"Mummy!"
Anna's eyes flew to the man behind them, who had placed is hands in his pockets.
"Thanks for letting me see them," he said. Anna ignored his words. She opened the car door and told them both to tell their father goodbye. The two girls hugged their dad and then climbed into the car. As soon as the door was closed, Anna turned back toward her ex, Jake.
"I didn't let you see them; it was court ordered," she reminded him. "You just showed up this time," she lowly said so the girls couldn't hear her.
"Anna…." Jake tried, reaching out toward her. Anna stepped back, shaking her head.
"Don't," she warned. "We'll be back here in two weeks. I guess we'll see if you show." She didn't say another word to him. Instead, she climbed into her car and shut the door.
Arya and Gracie waved to their father and chattered on and on about all they had done in their three hour time with Jake. It was the usual: games and candy. Nothing with merit. He was allowed more time with them, but he always just said the few hours was all he could afford. Anna would rather cut him off indefinitely, but she couldn't do that to her girls. Despite everything, they still thought he hung the moon.
"When we get home," Anna began, breaking their chatter, "I'm going to put the cotton candy in the cabinet. You can have a little each day until it's gone."
"But Daddy said we could eat it all today," Arya whined. Anna sighed. Of course, he did.
"All today!" Gracie added.
"Oh alright," Anna said, knowing it wasn't worth fighting. "But don't cry to me when you have a belly ache tonight."
She drove them down the bank and debated stopping into a toy store and letting them chose one in place of the cotton candy. It would also make her go up on the parenting totem pole. It was a completely childish reaction to it all and so she knew that she couldn't do it. The girls needed one parent that acted like an adult.
When they arrived home, both girls had eaten a large chunk of the cotton candy and abandoned it on the seat beside them. Normally, Anna would have had them clean up their mess, but she decided to let them forget it and let it harden so they wouldn't want it anymore.
Stepping into the house, Gracie immediately asked to watch Peppa Pig. Arya made a loud disapproving sound.
"Sure," Anna just sighed. She was not in the mood for one of Gracie's fits. Walking toward the television, she turned it on to Peppa Pig and then walked into the kitchen with Arya trailing behind her.
"Why does she always get the telly?" Arya asked with a huff. Anna began pulling things out of the refrigerator to start dinner. She shook her head.
"You'll understand when you're older and have kids of your own," she simply answered. "What do you want for dinner?"
"You're cooking?"
"Yes, why?"
Arya made a face. "Just mac and cheese, then."
"What's wrong with my cooking?" Anna chuckled.
"Mum, I love you, but your chicken is so dry. Nanny makes the best chicken."
"Fine," Anna lightly said. "I'll make mac and cheese. Now, go so I can make dinner."
As Anna pulled out the pot to cook the macaroni, she heard shuffling coming up the stairs. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was likely her mother's second nap for the day. She saw Mr. Bates enter the upstairs and then he began to walk toward her. Her brows furrowed.
"Yes, Mr. Bates?" She curtly asked.
"I was wondering if I could speak to you about your mother's condition," he said to her. Anna was grabbing the box for macaroni and cheese and paused at his question.
"Whatever about?"
"I just…I'm not sure you know how badly she's doing," he began. Anna placed the box down on the counter and her eyes darted over to her children in the living room.
"We can speak after supper. My office at 7? Although, I highly doubt you have anything new to tell me, Mr. Bates."
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John walked toward Ms. Smith's office right before 7 in the evening. He could hear the god-awful sound of that show her youngest daughter wouldn't stop watching. It seemed he had to hear Peppa Pig almost every moment of every day. Even downstairs he and Martha could hear it. When it wasn't playing, Martha would hum the theme song. It was everywhere.
He glanced in the living room to see that the littlest girl was laying on the couch with a stuffed Peppa in her hands. The other little girl was on her tablet with headphones over her ears. Smart girl, he thought.
Turning into Ms. Smith's office, he saw she was already sitting at her desk typing furiously. Upon noticing him entering, she pushed her keyboard over to the side and sat up straight.
"Take a seat," she offered. He sat.
"Ms. Smith," he began. "Your mother isn't doing well, at all. Her memory is going quickly. She may be sliding from the middle to late stage of Alzheimer's."
"Yes, I know, Mr. Bates," Anna simply answered. She didn't show any emotion on her features. "It's why I hired you. She needs around the clock care."
"She's very young to be this ill,' John stated, shocked at the lack of care in Ms. Smith's voice.
"She is," Ms. Smith agreed. "The doctor had the same diagnosis as you did. I wanted to place her in a home, but my sister insisted one of us keep her in one of our homes. She lives far away and has a smaller place, so I…I told her I would keep her. Do you think she'd do better in a home?"
"No," John stated, flustered. "I can care for her. I only…" he paused. "I think it may help her for you and your children to come down and see her more."
"Why?" The coldness in her words caught John off-guard. "You just said you can care for her, right? I hired you to do that. If it's too much for you, let me know. I can hire someone else or place her in a home."
John swallowed hard. This conversation had not gone the way he thought it would. But he shook his head and decided not to say anything else controversial. Martha trusted him and it would hurt her if he left.
"No, I can handle it," he finally said. "Thank you, Ms. Smith."
He got up from his chair and walked out of the room feeling completely perplexed by this entire situation.
To be continued...
Why is Anna so cold when it comes to her mother? More soon! Thanks for reading!