Excerpt

From "New Year's Eve at Glosser's"

"Let's get going." Dad takes the remote control back and starts the chair moving forward again. The fear that dominated him just moments ago seems to have fled; it's true, his moods can be pretty fluid these days in the grip of dementia. "I just need to make a quick pit stop at the john first."

"Good idea." Hope giggles. "We've got a busy night ahead."

"I can't wait." He sounds excited as the chair pushes him to his feet, and he shuffles toward the door. "And I can't believe we're really doing this."

"What exactly are you doing?" As Lizzie takes Dad's arm, she casts a suspicious look at Hope. "Some kind of fantasy role-play involving Glosser Bros. Department Store?"

"Heavens, no." Hope grins as she whips her head from side to side. "I wouldn't dream of wasting precious time on silly games."

"Then what is this about?" Lizzie asks darkly. "You do know this man requires vital medications administered on a precise schedule, don't you?"

"Yes, Mom." Hope blows out her breath, puffing up a lock of curly red hair on her forehead. "You're not the only one who knows things around here."

"Come along, Elizabeth." Dad tugs Lizzie out the bedroom door. "There's no need to make our guest feel unappreciated." He winks at Hope just before he rounds the corner, heading toward the bathroom with Lizzie in tow. Though Dad's usually okay on his own in there, he sometimes needs assistance if the dementia flares up at an awkward moment.

Hope giggles and waggles her fingers in a two-handed wave, though Dad isn't in the room to see it. "What a sweetie!"

"Okay, Ms. Tourmaline." Now that we're alone, I'm done holding back for Dad's benefit. "What's going on here, exactly?"

Suddenly, she's all business. "Two things you need to know." Leaning forward on the balls of her feet, she holds up two fingers, a little too close to my face. "One, whatever happens today is real and true, and you need to accept it."

"Accept what?" I'm getting annoyed.

Hope flicks down her middle finger, leaving her index finger upright. "Two, if you or your father disobey my instructions in the slightest, a terminal situation could ensue." She proceeds to push that index finger into my face with great urgency. "Per the terms of my agreement with your father, I will not be held responsible for such situations or their ultimate ramifications, which can be exceedingly unpredictable." She pokes me between the eyes with her fingertip. "Are we clear?"

For once, I feel more confused that Dad is. "What the blazes are you talking about?"

"You heard your old man." Suddenly relaxed and glib, she bounces back on her heels, folding her hands behind her back. "Just a li'l ol' shopping trip, as advertised."

"At Glosser's. A department store that's been closed for decades."

Hope scrunches up her nose. "Has it, though? Has it really?"

A spark of anger surges to life within me. "I'm shutting this down. I refuse to let you take advantage of my father in his current condition."

"Just stop." Calmly, she raises an eyebrow. "Don't ruin this for him."

Whatever "this" is, it won't matter. He won't remember it anyway. The thought comes to me quickly, but I don't say it aloud.

"How did you even meet my father?" I ask. "And why haven't I heard about you before?"

"Not sure why he never mentioned me." Hope shrugs. "But I do tarot readings at the senior center sometimes. He was there one morning—maybe his nurse dropped him off—and I did a reading for him. We got to talking, and he told me about your mom."

"You must've thought he was an easy mark." I know I'm scowling, and I don't care. "A sad old man whose wife went missing, and now he's losing his mind, too."

"That's not how it was."

"Then, what? You told him a fairy tale about how you'll take him to a department store he's fixated on, even though it's been closed for decades?"

Hope smiles knowingly, as if I'm the crazy one. "It's not a fairy tale. I have…certain abilities. I can find people. Those who are lost."

"Oh, really?"

"It's run in my family for generations," insists Hope. "Helping those who are lost is our legacy."

"Lost?" My scowl deepens. "You must be talking about my mother."

Hope nods. "I can find her."

"Now I know you're full of crap."

"Not at all." She jabs a finger at her chest. "I will find her."

"With your 'abilities.'"

"Don't you want to see her again?" asks Hope. "Don't you want to bring her home? Well, I can do it."

"For a price, I'm guessing. How much?"

Hope sighs. "No price, Jason. We don't monetize our mission."

"Then what is the catch?"

"None. Zero."

"You get nothing out of it?"

"Just the satisfaction of helping someone," says Hope.

I stare at her for a long moment, peering into her glittering green eyes. "How dare you?" I'm so angry, I shiver a little as I speak. "Taking advantage of an old man? Getting his hopes up to feed your own need for some kind of sick thrill?"

"That's not it at all."

"Well, it's a good thing I got here when I did, before you took this any further."

"Before we find your mother, you mean?"

"Enough already! Just because Dad thinks it's possible doesn't mean I do."

"But what if it is possible?" She narrows her eyes and tips her head to one side. "What if there's a chance I can make it happen? Should you be so quick to throw it all away?"

As her words sink in, I stiffen. Does her argument outweigh all my concerns?

I would be a complete idiot to let this play out longer, wouldn't I? Without somehow vetting this woman and her story, I could never justify putting my father in what might turn out to be harm's way just to see if her impossible story holds water.

Except I can justify it, after all. I have to. If Mom is still out there somewhere, and Hope indeed has the key to retrieving her, I can't say no to her proposal. Endangering Dad is a risk I'm willing to take, at least while I'm along for the ride.

I know it's nuts, but I can't pull the rip cord just yet. Not until we go a little further down this road.

"I'm driving!" Just then, Dad returns on Lizzie's arm, wearing bluejeans instead of sweatpants and sounding crazy coherent. "Who wants to ride shotgun?"

All I can think is, why doesn't he act this alert when it's just the two of us in the picture? All I say, though, is, "Shotgun."

Lizzie shoots me a scowl that could fry an egg, and I brush it off with a smirk that says, Never in a million years will that man be driving a car.

I don't think I convince her, though.

"It's almost dinner time." Smiling at Hope, Lizzie gestures at the doorway. "Perhaps you could visit again tomorrow or some other day." She nods encouragingly, stopping short of sweeping Hope out the door with a broom.

"That depends," says Hope. "Will it be New Year's Eve then?"

"Well, no…"

Hope shrugs. "Then the answer is…"

"It has to be New Year's Eve!" Dad's sudden, angry shout comes as a surprise. "It has to be tonight! There's no other way!"

For a moment, we all stand silent, each of us weighing our own private concerns. Was the outburst a flash of dementia? Is Hope manipulating Dad for some evil end she has yet to reveal? Or is there indeed more happening here than meets the eye, and not necessarily in a bad way?

I feel us teetering as on the tip of a fulcrum, tipping this way and that. Which way should we lean? Which future should we choose?

For me, though, there is only way to go. I know I couldn't live with myself otherwise, not after what Hope said moments ago.

What she said about Mom.

"All right then." I walk over and pat Dad's shoulder, smiling reassuringly. I'll humor him, at least for now, until I know more…or realize there's nothing to know after all. "I'll go on one condition."

His eyes narrow. "What's that?"

"You buy me a bag of those roasted nuts." I grin, and he smiles back at me. "The ones you can smell every time you walk in Glosser Bros."

Dad's head bobs on his spindly neck as he chuckles. Whatever else might happen, it's worth the possible inconvenience to see him so coherent and reinvigorated for once. "It's a deal."