They looked at each other. “I will if you will,” Jules said, and Mom smiled and went upstairs to pack

A half hour later, they were gone, and I had to admit, it was kind of nice, being all bossy and in charge, like my mother.

I went into the living room. “Crisis averted, or at least delayed,” I told my father. “So now it’s just you and me, Dad.” My doggy was creeping into the chair next to him, trying to be tiny. “And Pepper, of course.”

“Dog.”

“Yes! High five, Dad!” I held up my hand, but he didn’t respond. “You’re really getting better. I’m so proud of you. Can you say that again? Dog? Dog?”

He didn’t. The words were infrequent, but they were words. That brain elasticity was coming back.

For the rest of the day, we hung out. Took a slow walk around the town green, saying hi to some people we knew, stopping in the library to breathe in the good smell. I took out a book about real-life dog rescues and brought it home, made lunch and read to him. We went out onto the patio, and I deadheaded the flowers Mom had planted and made myself useful while narrating everything I was doing. Mom didn’t seem to talk much to him, and Juliet didn’t either. I made up for that.

Dad didn’t try any more words, and his expression didn’t change much. Those little flashes were few and far between, but at least they were progress.

Jules texted me a picture of her and Mom in big white robes, both of them looking a lot happier, and I texted back hearts and make sure you get the aromatherapy facial. Yes, it would be expensive, and no, I didn’t care. It felt nice to be the generous one. I didn’t even mind that the two of them were bonding (yet again) without me.

When Dad started to yawn, I brought him back inside, where he settled back into his recliner and promptly fell asleep, Pepper curled at his side, pressing herself against him. It was three thirty.

I wandered through the house. I didn’t have a lot of downtime when I was here, since I tried to keep moving forward with the work LeVon did, making sure we took walks now that the weather was nice, did art therapy, worked on motor skills and all that. It felt like a long time since I’d really seen the house.

Mom had done a lot of work here. Every picture, every piece of furniture and art was thoughtful and well chosen. She even had a small acrylic I’d done in college (hanging in the downstairs bathroom, since it matched the wallpaper). Pictures of the family were framed and placed at even intervals up the stairs.