Chapter 3 The Reunion

Soft music emanated from one of the apartments on either side of where Sharon and Ray lived. The music drilled some stillness and peace into the environment. Sharon stood on the balcony with a cup of hot chocolate in her hands. She wore thick socks and a long flannel gown. A scarf was draped around her neck. The night was cool, chilly, and misty. She tried to study the stars amidst the mist and heavy clouds. She blew into the cup in her hand occasionally and took a sip or two each time.

Only one star twinkled brightly and even though she wanted to see more than one star, the presence of that one calmed her.

Ray was in bed, neatly tucked and snoring away in his sleep. They had spent two weeks in the senior community, and as much as Sharon missed the mansion, she was forgetting what it looked like. Her memory could not retain it. She couldn't tell if Ray remembered or not, hell, she couldn't tell if he remembered anything at all. She took a long refreshing sip of her chocolate tea and sighed as she remembered Will and Susan's visit before she moved to the senior community with Ray. It would have been unfair to leave, sell the mansion, and disappear without informing their children of their decision. Sharon put a call through to Will the night she decided to move to a senior community with Ray. She didn't tell him what was wrong, only that he needed to come home as soon as possible.

"You want me to come home?" He answered the phone and Sharon nodded before she remembered that he couldn't see her.

"Yes. I have important information for you," She said.

"Is there a problem, mom?" The worry in his voice covered a distance in minutes that airlines wouldn't.

Sharon assured him that not so much was wrong, but she made sure to tell him to invite Susan too. Perhaps a family reunion and it had to be soon. They arrived on the weekend. For the first time since Ray was diagnosed, he was in the house with his children and they saw firsthand the magnitude of damage that his brain disease had caused.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Susan cried in a hug with Sharon on the first night. The story they knew before then was an abridged version of what Margaret and Ray were going through. Whether they heard it or they saw it, their hearts were bound to break. They couldn't have been more disappointed at the dilapidating condition of the mansion, its staff, and their parent's source of income.

Will was almost depressed. He accused Sharon of hiding too many things from him and enduring many things on her own. He reprimanded her for promising his dad to remain quiet and go through life like she was the only one in it. Ray, all through the weekend, barely knew Will and Susan. Maybe he noticed the difference in the number of people in the house, Sharon was sure that he couldn't tell who they were. Her heart was broken when he didn't recognize her, but it was different to see that he didn't recognize his children. Sharon didn't know when to bring up the senior community, but she found her chance at dinner the next night.

"We should do something about this." Will waved his hands in the air, directing his statement to Susan who sat on the opposite side of the dining table. It was obvious that he referred to the mansion and its state, and the state of Ray.

Sharon didn't wait for Susan to respond. She was sitting on the rear end of the table, directly opposite Ray who remained silent through dinner. If he could hear, Sharon was sure that he disapproved of them talking in the dining, but she didn't care. She ached to communicate the one thing that kept bothering her, to find a solution, or maybe to get Will and Susan to support her decision to move to a senior community. "We are leaving," she said and both Will and Susan paused eating. Ray played around with the food on his plate like a ten-year-old, pushing the vegetable to a side, tapping the fork at the edges, pretending to swallow a bite or two, when in fact, he wasn't eating at all.

The action pricked Sharon and she wasn't sure if he was doing it because he heard her say they were leaving because they were talking at dinner or because he simply didn't want to eat the food. She carried her eyes off him, knowing she could do nothing as much as she would have loved to. She waited for Will and Susan to recover and give her a reply.

"What do you mean by leaving?" Susan asked first. Lines formed on her forehead, her eyes and brows were creased, her cheeks were swallowed into her bones and the rest of her face was a swollen frown. Her lips were stacked like new crisp paper, and her eyes looked swollen and sucked into its socket.

Sharon took another spoonful of food into her mouth. "I want to leave the mansion with your dad and move to a senior community."

"That's crazy, mom." Will banged his hands on the table and threw them up. Ray trembled and the spoon in his hand fell. Will had always been like her, embodying the violence that she had since she was a child.

Will apologized and the rest of dinner was silent. No one spoke a word, not from the brewing anger in their minds or the annoyance that felt. Susan helped Sharon tuck her father in bed and once Ray fell asleep, Susan dragged Sharon out of the room. She led her back into the dining room, where Will sat in waiting after doing the dishes they used for dinner.

"So mom, what did you mean by wanting to go to a senior community center with Dad?" Susan spoke first and Will stared into space.

Sharon knew Will stared into space when he was annoyed and desperately needed to take hold of himself and be calm. He got that attitude from her too.

"I can't keep the house and take care of your father simultaneously. It's too much for me."

"That's why there was a staff, but you fired them," Will replied without breaking his contact with space. His face was sordid.

"It's not what you think, Will. Your father and I have no money for the upkeep of this house. We haven't paid the taxes in a few months. My retirement fund is almost exhausted. The savings your father and I made are almost completely gone. We can't afford things anymore, Will. The best solution is to leave."

Silence reigned for a couple of minutes. Tiny drops of tears fell from Sharon's eyes, soon Susan joined with bigger drops and loud sobbing, and soon, the three were in a big bear hug.

"What if we don't sell the house, but you still move to the community house with dad?" Will said as they separated from the hug. Sharon shook her head and wiped the lingering tears under her eyes.

"It is too much money. We may never come back here. It is best to let it go. We can use the money from the sale for other things. Let's not hold on to it."

"I'll miss this house." Susan sniffed and smiles spread across their faces. "Do you remember the day we first moved here?"

Will and Sharon chuckled, and Susan did too. Of course, they remembered. If they didn't, Sharon couldn't lock away such fond memories. On the day they first arrived, Susan and Will were so thrilled about the house that they spent the first twenty-four hours checking and checking, unable to sleep. When they finally slept, they were knocked out for so long, Ray and Sharon were sure that something was wrong with them, but they woke up eighteen hours later.

The night continued with the trio discussing funny moments, sad moments, and moments they thought would be close to them forever. They tried not to allow the sadness of Ray's situation to drown the joy of the night. Sharon was happy to shift her focus from the house and moving, and simply to reminiscing with her children.

The next couple of weeks would have been a hassle. Her children were out of the way, and Ray was next but as much as Sharon wanted his opinion of Ray regarding the move to the senior community, she knew it was impossible. He couldn't comprehend enough to give her so much as a comment. Sharon could tell that he would notice the difference nonetheless. She only hoped that it would be comfortable for them and make life easier for them. So she didn't inform him.

Thanks to Will and Susan, the search for the perfect community was made easy. They took it upon themselves to find a resting place for their parents. Sharon put the house up for sale and it got sold faster than anyone imagined. Almost as though a lot of people had their eyes on the property, the transaction was almost turned into a bid. Many people made ridiculous unbelievable offers and interests that Sharon was surprised she was even worried if the house would get sold at all.

When the presence of people wanting the mansion ever grew and didn't seem like it would ever reduce. Sharon told the realtor to sell the mansion to whoever gave the best offer at the time she made the call. The sale of the house helped the choice of a community center move faster.

***

The abrupt end to the soft music jilted Sharon from her thoughts. She took a drag from the cup in her hands and shivered. The cold seemed to be settling in on her, but she wanted to remain outside and enjoy the illumination created by the moon and balcony lights that were in the street. She wondered what might have brought an end to the music that enhanced her stay outside on the cold night. Her mind drifted into thinking that the couple or whoever occupied the apartment had found solace in something else.

She stretched a little and a sound threw her off balance. She caught herself before she could trip on her feet.

"Sharon!" She heard again. It was an almost inaudible whisper at first, but now the voice was louder. Sharon knew who it was. Whether in a whisper, in a normal voice, or through a shout, Sharon had listened to the same voice call her for fifty years, of course, she recognized the voice of her husband. What made her freeze in her spot was the fact that he remembered that he had a Sharon in his life.

She waited outside, not moving an inch, wondering if he would call her name again, or if it would be another passing moment. Passing moments became common since they arrived in the community. Moments when Ray remembered who he was and remembered Sharon. During times like this, he confessed his love to her or held her in a hug so long that she ended up crying. But those times didn't last. In a matter of minutes, sometimes seconds, he completely forgot and relapsed to who he was, who he now was. Sharon took hope in it for a while, savoring the possibility that Ray would be fine, but when made a call to the doctor and told him about it, she blamed herself for believing and causing herself another huge heartbreak.

The routine with Ray didn't change since they arrived too. The community provided helpers for every other situation. For one, Sharon was glad that housekeeping would never be her job again. The two months she spent taking care of the mansion made her dread the work and when she realized that the community provided someone to fix that, she was happy.

She never had to worry about housework since she was young. She was never at home to take care of such things and even when she was at home, she escaped it somehow. Love made her do it. The overpowering feeling she had for Ray, subdued her to the point that she cooked, did the laundry, and swept the house. Being free to an extent made her happy.

She had nothing to do with laundry. The community took charge of laundry, gardening, and even sometimes, the cooking. To enhance a social gathering among the people in the senior community, at least twice a week, the elders come together for a group meal. Sharon was so relieved on a lot of levels that she almost regretted not coming to the community earlier than she did.

The one thing that didn't change was Ray. She bathed him, clothed him, fed him, and put him to sleep every day. All she really wanted was for him to get better and for them to spend the rest of their lives in peace and enjoyment. She hated that his disease came in between them and wedged a large distance, she couldn't go to Greenland with him like they promised each other so many years ago. It ate at her every passing day.

Some minutes had passed and Ray didn't call her name again after he last did. Sharon decided to check on him. She adjusted the scarf on her body and turned from the balcony to the door that led into the room she shared with Ray. The room was dark, except for the light from the balcony that reflected through the transparent angle of the door. Sharon reached for the light switch and turned on the light.

The room was exactly the way she left it, but Ray was awake. He sat at the edge of the bed staring into space. Sharon dropped the cup in her hand on the table in the room. She walked over to Ray and held his right hand. He flinched. Indeed, the moment he called her name was just one of those when he remembered for a while who he was. He seemed to have completely forgotten in the little time Sharon stood outside, wondering if he would be sane forever.

"Why are you not sleeping?" She asked, but he didn't respond. His eyes were hollow and focused on the wall ahead of him. She shook him. His head fell forward and she caught him before he sank to the ground. A second later, he was snoring. Sharon sniffed away the tears that lingered in her eyes. She bundled Ray back to the bed. His hands and legs were cold. She withdrew another duvet from the wardrobe and wrapped him so that he couldn't wiggle out of the cloth no matter how much he turned. She placed a light kiss on his forehead, picked up the remainder of her chocolate tea, and exited the room into the corridor that led to the sitting room.

The sitting room was small and bore no resemblance to the large one at the mansion. Behind the sitting room was a kitchen. Sharon walked straight into the kitchen. Instead of filling her cup with hot chocolate again, she brewed some coffee. She didn't feel like sleeping. She filled her cup and strolled back to the balcony but not without taking another glance at Ray, making sure he was fine and turning off the light in the room. She shut the door behind her and sighed with heaviness in her breath. Tears slipped from her eyes before she could help herself.

Sharon could testify that she had cried more tears since she clocked sixty than she did when she was younger. The thought made her look into the sky. From a young age, Sharon doubted the existence of a god somewhere.

It stemmed from the death of one of her friends, Naomi, when she was younger. Naomi and her family were staunch churchgoers. Sharon thought it was admirable when she went to their houses, and they gathered to pray for whatever they wanted to do. She particularly loved how they said 'The Grace' for every meal. Once, Sharon even followed them to church against her mother's wishes. Her mother made sure to deal with her when she called back, but that didn't matter. Sharon was born a rebel.

The life-changing period for Sharon was when Naomi was diagnosed with cancer. She was so young, barely twelve years old. The family and church launched into prayers, or so they called. They called to their God, asking them to save their child. Naomi's mother had once told Naomi and Sharon to be good children because God always reserved the good and the best for those who were good. Sharon prayed hard for Naomi because rather than herself, Naomi was good. She was the type to follow her mother's orders and keep still wherever she was kept.

She never caused trouble at school and was very smart. It was one of those things that kept Sharon attracted to her. How could someone be so calm and happy at the same time? For Sharon, happiness came with causing trouble and never with sitting still.

The day Naomi died, Sharon was sure of it, and no one could convince her that a God existed. If he indeed existed and kept the good and best for those who were good, he should have saved Naomi from dying. After the night Naomi was buried, Sharon had nothing to do with her family and church ever again. It was when she asked Naomi's mother what she thought about God and the woman didn't seem to flinch about her resolve that God existed. Sharon wasn't willing to stay in the confines of such people.

She continued to bully others as always and didn't try to stop her bad ways. She behaved like an outcast in her family.

Another tear escaped from Sharon's eyes. She desperately wanted a God to exist as she stared at the sky, desperately wanted him to be one that listened and answered the requests of humans, desperately wanted him to ease her pain even though she never tried to be good all her life, except to her children and those she taught in the community school. A star twinkled in the sky. Sharon opened her mouth and closed it. She opened her mouth again, and the words flowed, her gaze still on the sky.

"I don't know if there is a god out there. If there is, I'm sorry that I haven't believed in your existence for so long." She sniffed, chuckled, and wiped her tears, feeling very foolish. "I don't know how to pray, I've only learned to hope and believe that what will be will be. But please..." She clasped her hands and cast her focus on the sky, her heartbeat rate doubled and her legs shook. Her voice was vibrating as she said, "Save Ray. Let him come back to his senses, take away his disease. Please. Just do something." The red star in the sky twinkled again.

Sharon bit back her tears and swallowed the rest of her coffee to stop her tears from reaching her mouth. She went back into the room, dejected. She was so sure that even if a god existed, he wouldn't answer her prayer. She dropped the cup in the kitchen and climbed into bed with her husband by her side. What will be will be, she thought. What she didn't know was that her prayer was heard.

***

Don ran as fast as his quivering tired legs could manage. He stopped almost every minute to catch a breath and resume his race to the pharmacist's shop. It was bad enough that Edith had suddenly caught a cold. Not that it was strange, she often caught a cold when the weather changed and became chilly. There were pills for when she caught a cold at home, but Don had searched the entire house to no avail. He couldn't figure out where exactly Joan kept the bottle that held the pills. He thought about putting a call through to her, but not only was it late, but he also knew she wouldn't pick up his calls.

He made numerous calls to her line since she disappeared. She didn't pick any and didn't return them either. She was gone for good, he was sure about that now. Or how else was he supposed to interpret her letter and the continued silence after that? Don couldn't admit that he was fed up. He wasn't tired of taking care of his daughter, but he was tired of doing it without Joan.

He stopped for a quick drag of air and bent his back forward, supporting himself with his palms on his knees. He looked ahead and wondered if the pharmacy moved away from its usual position to somewhere farther. He resumed his run. His body ached from the lectures he had at the university and the running around he had to do because of Edith. He came to a stop at the front of the pharmacy, sighed, and took three huge steps, skipping a step up the stairs each time, into the shop. He allowed himself to rest as he made his request and watched the person behind the counter attend to it. He still had a journey to make back home. It was risky to leave Edith by herself for too long.

He collected the package and dashed out of the shop. He glanced at the sky and noticed that it was cloudy and only a few stars peeked from behind the clouds. He wondered if they were even stars at all or just satellites pretending to be what they were not. The race back home was shorter and Don got home in time to save little Edith from more tears. He gave her the pill, some water to swallow it, and wrapped her into the bed. He started to walk out of her room, but Edith called him back.

"Dad, can I come with you?" Her voice shivered like the rest of her body. "I don't want to stay alone." It was the most words she had said at the time since her mother left. Don nodded and checked her wardrobe for a thick cardigan, he wore it for her, grabbed a thick duvet, and led her out of the room to the kitchen where he was headed to make a light dinner.

He sat Edith in one of the dining chairs and wrapped the duvet around her shoulders to contain the cold and stop her from shivering. He made a cup of hot milk and watched her drink as he fried some eggs and made some pancakes. She watched him steadily when she wasn't sipping from her cup. Don's heart went out to her. Ever since Joan left, Edith seemed to have gotten worse. She asked where her mother was, and he responded that she had traveled. After that day, she didn't speak unless she wanted to ask for something or answer a question. She woke up crying, and at other times, she slept crying. Don was never enough to appease her.

He could understand when things like that happened to her. It was attributed to the fact that a two-year-old was more attached to her mother than her father. He tried his best to fill the void her mother left, but no matter what he did, it made no difference. So, he resolved to be himself.

He placed a plate of eggs and pancakes in front of her. He collected her cup and refilled it from the jug of milk he prepared earlier. He sat opposite her and together they ate in silence. He hoped her cold had subsided. She was no longer shivering and she seemed to be using her fork well too. Don was glad he didn't have to feed her. He was starving.

A notification on his phone distracted him and he flipped through the message. Edith continued eating. It was another message from another day center. The message included a breakdown of fees needed for a person to be admitted to the center. He checked through and dropped his phone. He cursed under his breath, but when the action drew the attention of Edith, he smiled at her.

He had been searching for a day center. He needed somewhere to put Edith during the day when he was supposed to be at work. The emergency leave he took for two weeks ended last weekend and since he resumed work, it has been a hell of a ride. He was forced to take Edith with him to the office and keep her with the office secretary while he attended all his lectures. When he couldn't do that, he left her at the neighbors for the duration of his lecture, ran back home to take her, and on and on. He couldn't keep up that way. He was fast becoming a nuisance to everyone around him.

He abandoned his phone on the table and finished the remaining food on his plate. He watched Edith clear her plate too and finish the rest of her milk. Her cold was completely gone. Don couldn't be more glad. She watched him wash the plates and put the kitchen in order. When he finished, he helped her to her bedroom, tucked her in bed, and read one of her favorite bedtime stories. She fell asleep and as he walked out of the room, he turned off the light. He was about to shut the door when Edith spoke.

"Will mommy be back tomorrow?" She asked.

Don didn't know what to say. He switched on the light and smiled at Edith. "Sleep tight honey." He turned them off and walked away.

Don was in his room a few minutes later. He lay on the bed and tried to catch some sleep, but all he did was toss and turn. He was almost sure that if he so much as found a chance to visit the hospital, the doctor would diagnose him with insomnia. He barely slept. Even when Joan was around. His eyes opened at every discomfort, sound, or movement. He was always checking on Edith to make sure she was fine, didn't hurt herself, or felt lost in her room. It got worse with Joan gone. Sleep never found him and he wasn't willing to use pills, because of Edith.

He jerked off the duvet from his body and left the room. He went back into the sitting room. The sky looked clearer as he peeped outside through the window. Suddenly, he felt like sitting under the clouds and staring at them. That's exactly what he did.

The neighborhood was clear of souls as he stepped out to the porch. He sat on the last step, the one closest to the door, and looked up into the sky. The last time he had done this, he was with a devastated Joan. On that day, she lost a trial and her heart was heavy. She felt bad for the woman who would end up in jail due to her incompetence and the criminal who was on the loose. She was in a very bad mood and Don knew he had to do something fast to bring her out of the mood.

After forcing her to put Edith to bed, Don dragged her out of the house and made her sit on the porch, on one of the stairs. Her eyes beamed with confusion and her lips curled up, while her eyebrows took a questioning shape. Don ignored her body language and tried only to shift her mind from the trial. It didn't take long before she joined him to watch the stars in silence.

"Have you ever prayed?" Don asked her, catching her off guard. She shook her head and retained her composure.

"What about you?" She said.

"I haven't prayed before, but I've seen someone do it. I think you should pray for that woman."

"Really?!" Joan scoffed.

"What if there is a god that listens to prayers somewhere like all of them believers say?"

"What do you think it'll do?" Her eyes were focused on Don now.

"We can't know unless we try."

"Let's!"

Don explained to Joan that the person he saw praying clasped her hands together and stared in awe at the sky. The two of them imitated Don's description and prayed for the woman to be released and for the real criminal to be caught.

The next day, their prayers were answered. Evidence that solved both problems was found and the case was closed, but Don and Joan never prayed like that again. Joan concluded that it was only a coincidence and Don had nothing to say about it.

He missed his wife, no doubt about it. He missed the precious, smart, and little daughter he had. He missed the life he planned to live and was exhausted. Hence, he thought of doing something he thought he would never do again. He clasped his hands, looked into the sky, and cried with a loud voice. "Save me!"

"Can you bring Joan and Edith back? All I want is a family that stays together. I want Edith to be like and among her peers. I want to live like a normal family man. Please, help."

A red star twinkled brightly in its position. Don didn't know how soon an answer would come, but he wished it would be as soon as the other day he prayed with Joan. He hoped that there was indeed a god who listened and answered. That was all he needed. What Don didn't know was that it didn't matter if a god heard him or not, because the twinkling red star was listening. It heard him and maybe that was all that mattered.