“Yeah. So it’s none of my business, but I picked up some weird vibes last weekend, and I just wanted to check on you.”

“Ah. Yes.”

“How are you feeling? I mean, you’ve been through the wringer. Your kids, too. The drunk one? I thought she might stab me with her fork.”

“Oh, Juliet is lovely. She would never stab anyone with a fork. Or any instrument.” I sat down, too. “Tell me, Janet. You obviously like John for some reason.”

“Yeah. He’s cool.”

“Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know. He listens really well.”

“He has no choice, does he?”

She smiled. “Good point. I feel like he hears me, though.”

“I feel like he hears you, too. He always brightened up when you came into his room at Gaylord, and the fact that he spoke when he saw you . . . that was a real breakthrough.”

“Has he started talking more?”

“No.” Just those three yous when he saw Janet. Apparently, the women who inspired John were not in his family. I wondered what he’d do or say if Karen visited, but she wouldn’t, would she? Theirs was a love that was more than a love only when she thought he was wealthy. She wasn’t the type who would wipe drool from a man’s face.

As Janet had last weekend, after the hand kissing.

“This is a really pretty house, by the way,” Janet said.

“John cheated on me,” I said. “I only found out after his stroke.”

“Well . . . fuck.”

“Yes. My daughters don’t know.”

“So you’re all alone with this?”

“My best friend knows. Would you like some coffee? I baked cookies with my granddaughters yesterday, too.”

“I love cookies. Sure, I’ll take a coffee. Thanks, Barb.”

For the next hour, we talked. Janet told me about her brother and his progress. They only had each other, she said; their parents died when they were teenagers, and Janet had become Frank’s legal guardian at the age of eighteen to his twelve. They’d had no other relatives for most of their lives, and they were so close they lived on the same street before his accident.

I thought about my six siblings. Nancy had sent a card when I told her about John via e-mail, but otherwise, I hadn’t heard from anyone.

“Have you thought about putting John in Rose Hill?” Janet asked. “It’s fab. They have a saltwater pool, and the food is great.”

For a second, I imagined the freedom of having John in a facility. Those weeks when he was at Gaylord and I was alone in the house, and how . . . peaceful they had been. I was so tired these days.

Then I pictured myself in his situation, away from home, surrounded by strangers.