Authors: Kim Baldwin
“She’ll meet someone else before long. As she should. She’s beautiful, bright, fun to be with. I’m sure she’ll have a lot of opportunities to hook up in Atlanta.” The seeming inevitability that Karla would move on depressed her. She conjured up a vision of Karla at a club, dancing close to some attractive stranger, and felt as though she’d been punched in the stomach. No way would she be able to feign happiness at seeing her with someone else, as Geneva apparently could.
“I think you’re underestimating yourself, Bry. All I’m sayin’.” Geneva set the drinks on her tray and returned to her customers.
The phone rang behind the bar and Grizz wiped his hands on a towel to answer it. “The Den.” As he listened, a big smile spread across his face. “Same back atcha. Yeah, she’s right here.” He handed the phone to Bryson. “Her ears must’ve been burnin’.”
“Karla?”
“Hi, Bryson. I’m missing you something fierce.”
Her glum mood lifted significantly. “Lot of that going around. How’s everybody doing?”
“Great. Maggie’s incision’s almost healed and she’s able to do just about everything. BP’s good. Karson’s gained more weight and is starting to smile a lot. We’re all getting a bad case of cabin fever, though.”
“I’m sure you’re not the only ones. The Den’s been pretty empty except for folks within walking distance.”
“It seems so unfair not to be able to see you when I’ve only got a couple of weeks left.”
Bryson’s heart fell. “I thought you were staying until after New Year’s.”
“Yeah. That’s the bad news. I checked in at work, and my supervisor begged me to come back by the twenty-eighth to cover a maternity leave.” Karla’s voice was subdued. “And flights are cheaper then, too. So I’m booked to leave the day after Christmas.”
That ticking clock got louder in Bryson’s head. “Sorry to hear that.” There was an awkward silence on the line. “On a happier note, a cold front is supposed to be headed our way.”
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed it gets here quick and hangs around a while,” Karla said.
“No more than I will. See you as soon as I can get there.”
*
Karla hung up and turned to find Lars and Maggie watching her. They were curled up together on the couch, with Karson in her crib nearby snoozing off her last feeding.
“Any news from town?” Lars asked.
“Bryson says it’s supposed to get colder. Not much else.”
“Don’t be discouraged,” Maggie said. “I bet she’ll be here before the week’s out.”
Lars got to his feet and stretched. “I need some fresh air. Gonna cut some firewood.”
Maggie gave him a quizzical look but said nothing as he grabbed his coat and headed outside. There was enough firewood already split to last them at least a couple of months, but everyone had their own ways to deal with cabin fever. In truth, his leaving them alone
was
a ruse. Now that Maggie and Karson were both safely out of the woods, Karla had asked for some alone time to finally tell Maggie the truth about their mother’s illness.
She took the seat on the couch that Lars had vacated and let her gaze linger on the makeshift Christmas tree in the corner. It was the first one ever erected in the Rasmussen cabin. Lars and Maggie loved the holiday, but they didn’t believe in killing trees unnecessarily since the ones that grew here struggled so to survive the short growing season. So normally they went without one—instead stringing their lights and decorations on the windowpanes and ceiling. This year, however, because of Karla and Karson, they’d constructed a tree out of spruce boughs, wired to a frame that Lars had made. It was decorated with strung popcorn and cranberries, colored paper chains, and a variety of homemade ornaments.
“I put up a Christmas tree for Mom last year,” she told Maggie. “Just a tabletop-sized, with a lot of little colored lights and some of her favorite ornaments. She’d pick one up whenever she traveled.” Karla had held each memento in front of her mother’s face, praying for a sign of recognition, without success.
She met Maggie’s eyes, so much like their mother’s that her heart ached. “The tree was more for my benefit than hers. I doubt she had any idea what it was, but I couldn’t do much for her by then.”
Maggie looked understandably confused. “What do you mean?”
“I told you she had a heart attack—that’s what’s listed on the death certificate. But it wasn’t really what killed her. She had Alzheimer’s.”
“Alzheimer’s?” Maggie’s eyes widened for a split second as she absorbed the news. “Oh, how awful. That must have been very difficult for you.”
“It’s terrible to watch someone you love lose herself little by little. The first hint I had that something was wrong was when she began to lose sense of time. We’d be at a red light and she’d insist it must be broken because it wasn’t changing. Or she’d think a waitress had forgotten about us because our order didn’t come in two minutes. Within a year she was having problems sometimes finding the right word for something. That’s when I told her she needed to see a doctor. She resisted at first. I think she knew something wasn’t right, but she was afraid to face it. To be honest, so was I.”
Maggie didn’t say anything, but she took her hand, and that small encouragement gave her courage to continue.
“Another year or so went by. She was living by herself, and I was so caught up with my own life I didn’t see her enough to really get a handle on how bad she was getting. Then one day I got a call from a police department in Alabama. She’d gone out for groceries and somehow ended up three hundred miles away, knocking on a stranger’s door in a panic, asking how to get home. That’s when I forced her to seek help. She was diagnosed and started on Aricept to try to slow the progression of the disease. That’s also about when she wrote that letter to me about you. Good thing, because within another couple of years she was losing her ability to read and write. Near the end, she barely spoke, and she couldn’t make sense of anything—people, places, things. It was all a mystery to her; she was like an infant again.” The image of her mother staring blankly at her, eyes devoid of any spark of recognition, haunted her.
Maggie squeezed her hand. “I can’t imagine what you had to go through. I’m just sorry I wasn’t there to help you through it.”
“And I’m sorry that I have to be the one to tell you this. I wish to hell I didn’t.” Her stomach was tied up in knots. “Because there’s a part of this you need to know. Something that will be very tough to deal with.”
Maggie’s expression changed from sisterly concern to apprehension, and she stiffened. “What is it? Tell me.”
Karla took a deep breath. “The doctors were fairly certain, since she began exhibiting symptoms so young, that she had a rare form of Alzheimer’s. It’s called eFAD—early onset, Familial Alzheimer’s Disease.”
Maggie gasped. “Familial?”
“Yes. Scientists still aren’t sure what causes Alzheimer’s. They suspect genetics plays a role, but there’s no proof of that, except with the familial type. It’s the only kind that’s been conclusively linked to a particular gene called a deterministic gene that’s definitely hereditary. It affects multiple family members across generations. In other words, if a parent has it, then their children have a fifty-fifty chance of getting it, too.”
Maggie’s face went ashen. “Oh, my God. You mean…” Her gaze went immediately to the crib.
“Yes. You may have it. And so may Karson. I’m so sorry.” Karla was accustomed to imparting such a grave prognosis to patients, but she had never hated the task more than at this moment.
Maggie’s eyes filled with tears as she reached for the baby and held her close. She said nothing for a very long while. “There’s…there’s no chance this could be a mistake?”
“Yes, there’s always a chance. The doctors weren’t absolutely certain, but most people with Alzheimer’s don’t start showing symptoms until sixty-five or so, and Mom was diagnosed in her forties.” Karla had a hard time facing Maggie with the final admission. “There are blood tests for the particular gene mutations prevalent with most cases of eFAD, but I opposed them. Both for Mom, and for me.”
Maggie looked confused. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I don’t want to know if I have it. I couldn’t approach life the same way with that future looming over me, knowing I would end up like she did. And the tests aren’t a hundred percent reliable.” She felt like such a coward sometimes, but better that, she’d decided, than having to deal every day with the near-certain knowledge that she would lose her mind.
“But you’re saying there
is
a test that I could take, and Karson, too?”
“Yes. There’s one lab in Massachusetts that offers a commercial test. You have to have a doctor request it, though. And many won’t until you’ve had genetic counseling, to make sure you’re equipped to deal with the results. The tests are also expensive and not always covered by insurance, so you need to check on that as well.”
“How long does it take to hear back from the lab?” Maggie asked.
“Two to three weeks, on average.”
Karson began to cry. It was time for her feeding. As Maggie breastfed her, the silence lengthening, a look of resolve came over her face. “I
have
to know,” she said finally. “I have to know how long I have with her. I have to prepare for her future.” She looked over at Karla. “I’m going to see a doctor in Fairbanks about it as soon as possible.”
Karla looked down at her niece. “You’re braver than I am, Maggie.” Secretly, she’d hoped her sister would feel as she did—preferring to be kept in the dark and allow some reason for hope. Because if Maggie and the baby both showed the genetic predisposition for eFAD, then in all likelihood, she did too.
*
“Still only three degrees, and I bet it got well below zero again last night,” Lars reported with a grin as he shook the snow from his hat and coat. He’d headed down to the lake at first light, as he had every day for a month. “The ice is definitely thick enough for the plane now. You want to call her, or you want me to?”
Karla shot out of her chair, and Maggie and Lars both laughed. “She better be there and not off in Fairbanks getting groceries or something.” The wait had been excruciating and she couldn’t bear another minute of it, not when she left for home in only seven short days.
“The Den.” Grizz’s voice had become instantly recognizable after so many calls to Bettles.
“Hi, Grizz, it’s Karla. Is Bryson there?”
“Bryson? Hmmm. Lemme see.” His tone was definitely jovial, but her heart sank when he continued. “Sorry, she’s not here. She took off about fifteen minutes ago.”
“She’s gone?” Her elation melted away. “When will she be back, do you know?”
“No time soon. Skeeter’s taking her bookings for the next couple of days at least, maybe longer.”
Couple of days? “Well, that bites. The lake is finally frozen. Where did she go? Is there a problem somewhere?” Bryson had sounded as anxious as she was to get together again. Karla couldn’t imagine anything but a rescue mission or some other emergency taking her away for so long.
“No, no problem. Just said she had something important to do.” He paused for a few torturous long beats, then chuckled. “If you want specifics you’ll have to ask her yourself. I expect she’ll be charging through your door in, oh, twenty minutes or so.”
The burst of exhilaration made her woozy on her feet. “You’ll pay for that, Grizz. Thanks!” She hung up the phone. “She’s already on her way,” she told Lars and Maggie. “And look at me. Crap.” To the sounds of their laughter, she hurried to wash up and change out of the grungy sweats she’d been wearing for three days.
She was pulling on clean jeans when she picked up the sound of the approaching plane. The Cub buzzed the cabin, then veered off toward the lake. By the time she threw on her coat and boots and got outside, the noise had died. She met Bryson halfway up the trail and flew into her outstretched arms.
They hugged so tight that Karla had to fight for breath. Her heart was thumping like crazy. “God, I’ve missed you so much.”
“No more than I’ve missed you.” And then Bryson’s mouth was covering hers in a searing kiss that reignited all the passion they’d shared their last night together.
“You know,” Maggie said in a low voice as she dipped another plate into the rinse water and handed it to Bryson to dry, “it couldn’t be more obvious that you two have something very special going on. Karla couldn’t stop talking about you these last few weeks, and I’ve never seen you so starry-eyed over someone.”
Bryson turned to watch Karla, who was currently changing Karson’s diaper. “Can’t argue there. She’s a wonderful woman. It’ll kill me when she leaves.”
“I think so much of both of you, you know that. Seems a damn shame that you found each other, only to be split apart. Have you talked about what happens after she goes home?”
“No. Not really. What’s there to say? I’m hoping she’ll come back when she’s able. And I can maybe get down to see her once or twice a year, and try to get to Bettles more to webcam with her. But realistically, can anybody hope to sustain a relationship with that kind of limited contact? I expect she’ll move on before long and that’ll be that. So I’m just enjoying the time I have with her. I can’t think about the future.”
“I probably already know the answer to this, but you’d never consider relocating to Atlanta? Not that I’d want to see you go, of course.”