“So give me something to do. I’m here to help.” Colleen broke eye contact to stare out the stained glass window. It was hard to look directly at Hallie; it was too much for Colleen to hold the gaze, as it caused her breath to catch, her heart to fly upward in a need for something that felt like reconciliation.

“No, you’re not,” Hallie said.

Colleen glanced back, but only looked at Shane. “What?”

“You know we don’t have enough money to get a helper for Dad and you could stay.”

“Not now,” Shane said in a voice as firm as their mother’s when they came running into the kitchen with muddy shoes. He looked up from Colleen’s stories. “I’m reading these and I’m thinking about Dad, and I want you two to quit throwing jabs and punches.”

“I’m trying to solve this.” Hallie’s voice came with a juvenile whine.

Colleen stepped forward. “You sound five years old, Hallie. For God’s sake, we’re all trying to find solutions to a challenging situation. Shane lives here in an apartment—he could move in. You have a family, so you can’t. We can pool our money or look for other solutions, but me moving here is not the only possibility, so enough already.”

“Maybe . . .” Hallie swallowed and sat. “Forget it.”

“Maybe?” Colleen asked.

“Maybe we just want you here. Have you considered that at all?”

A knock on the door saved them all. Shane opened it to greet the social worker, Susan Clements, a tall woman confident in her stance, her shoulders back. She shifted the tortoiseshell glasses on her face and held out her hand to meet the three siblings as they introduced themselves one by one.

“It’s nice to meet all of you,” she said as she hoisted her loaded canvas bag higher on her shoulder. “I’m just sorry it has to be under these circumstances. This is my specialty—consulting on Alzheimer’s. And it’s always hard. There will be a ‘new normal’ for all of you that will be difficult to accept, but I’m here to help.”

“Thank you,” Shane said, and he stepped aside to show her into the living room. The siblings followed and they all took seats on the couch and side chairs.

Susan glanced at each of them and then spoke evenly. “This disease and its accompanying problems can bring out the worst in families. Old wounds can open as responsibilities shift. Let’s try to let this bring out the best in us.”

“Well,” Shane said as they all sat facing one another over the pine coffee table, “we can certainly try.”

“You see,” Susan said, “with this disease the family is thrown off center.”

Colleen thought, We were already off center, but she swallowed the comment and leaned forward to hear Susan.