Eleanor sat back down. She assured me she had heard nothing but good things about Gorsebrook. But if I was concerned, she encouraged me to start Kelli off in the day program as a trial run — just until I had good sense of the facility. If I felt overwhelmed with Kelli’s care in the meantime, Eleanor stressed that there were services I could access. Multiple services. And she took some brochures from her bag and went over them with me. Meet Your Team was the title of one. The brochure was glossy, soothing, full of gently smiling caregivers and their clients kicking back in sunlit rooms. “You don’t have to do this alone,” said Eleanor Mallon. “Please remember that, Karen. You should never feel alone in this, because that’s a recipe for burnout. And burnout, when you’re someone’s sole caregiver, is natural, by the way. It’s not a failing. It’s what happens when you don’t have the help you need.”

I didn’t tell Trevor about that — how I went from being petrified of Eleanor Mallon one moment to realizing her utility the next and grasping at her like a life preserver. I also didn’t tell him about the feeling I had once she left the house. A feeling like it had been winter these last couple of months instead of summer. But now it was abruptly spring, the world was waking up, and I had flung open all the windows and fragrant air and sunlight were flooding every room.

Trevor peered at me from his end of the table as I delivered the edited version of all this. “Not so much a team,” I said. “Just, like, people we can call on. I mean, Irene was using Bestlife for years, even back when I was kid — for just a few services — the baths and the walks. Eleanor says she could’ve had help with groceries, cleaning, babysitting — I don’t think she ever really bothered exploring the options that were out there. And there’s tons!”

I jumped up and went to the cupboard above the fridge, where I’d stashed the brochures Eleanor had left for me, and brought them down to show Trevor. Meet Your Team was at the top of the pile and I put them on the table beside his empty plate. He stared down at them.

“I thought the plan,” said Trevor, “was you wanted to get off home care completely, pretty much. I mean, as far as I’m concerned, you’ve been knocking this whole deal out of the park all on your own. That’s what Health and Wellness needs to know. You and Beaner been doing great!”

“Thanks,” I said. “I know. And we are. But I guess — I realized talking to Eleanor that I need to have a game plan. For the unexpected stuff, moments of crisis. Like, say we give Gorsebrook a try but it doesn’t work out, I might need to —”

Trevor snorted at the mention of Gorsebrook. “You’re not still thinking about that shithole?”