“You look… tired.”

“I am tired.”

Cara winced, feeling guilt. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Cara, I am too. For Flo. The disease is accelerating. She’s having trouble eating solid food. Thank heavens for the Vitamix and avocados. She’s increasingly disoriented. Unaware of what’s going on around her. She stands and stares into space, or watches the television, only I know she’s not really following what’s going on. She just sits with this blank face. But if I turn off the television, she startles. So the darn TV drones on and on all day.” Her voice hitched. “There are days she doesn’t recognize me.”

Cara brought her hand to her throat. She hadn’t realized how bad things were getting. And she should have known. Guilt washed through her as she took in the obvious signs of exhaustion in Emmi’s sagging jaw, her unwashed hair.

“I’ll start coming over to help. We’ll set up a schedule.”

“Thank you,” Emmi said fervently. “I think, soon, we’ll have to help with her hygiene.”

“As in showering?”

“Yes. And other things I can’t ask John to do.”

“Oh, Emmi.” Cara didn’t know if she could do that. The indignity of wiping someone’s bottom would also wipe away the memories of Flo she wanted to keep. “I don’t know that I want to see her like this. You can’t get her nurse to come back?”

“Not for love or money.”

Cara swallowed hard.

“With John, I think we’ll be okay. For this summer,” Emmi said. “I’ve thought it through. I want to give Flo this final summer.”

“Emmi, we said that last summer.”

“I know,” she said with emphasis. “But we’ve been managing pretty well with her nurse. Making it work.” They walked a few more steps. The sand was firm under their feet along the shoreline.

“And now?” Cara pressed. “Without a nurse? With her deteriorating?”

“Let’s not go there.”

Cara sighed and pumped her fists to pick up the pace. “Emmi, we have to be realistic. The level of care she needs is beyond what either of us is really capable—or even desirous—of doing. We’ve discussed this before. We found the right place. She’s on the waiting list. Perhaps… it’s time. You’ve done more than your share of caring for her. It’s my turn. I’ll cover all the expenses.”

They walked awhile at a faster pace, side by side, each considering the situation.

Then Emmi stopped, her breath coming hard. “Cara,” she began, then put her hand to her chest to take a deep breath. “Listen to me. This is important. I get what you’re saying. If this was any other time, I’d agree with you. But it’s not. We’re in this crazy pandemic. If we put Flo in the memory care facility now, we won’t be able to visit her. They’re under lockdown.” She narrowed her eyes. “Can you imagine Flo in there, alone? Without us? Without her memories. Not knowing where she is. Afraid.”

“No,” Cara said breathlessly.

Emmi shook her head. “We can’t do it to her. Not until the pandemic is over.”