Lost

“You mean you don’t remember we have plans to go to Cannon Beach with the kids next weekend?” Ben peered at Denise over his coffee, his green eyes like snarled weeds.        

“No. That can’t be right because I’m scheduled to help Chris move Stacy’s stuff next weekend.” Hail rattled the roof as Denise poured herself a bowl of granola. Lately, Ben had been accusing her of saying and doing all kinds of things she hadn’t. He was losing it. Fifty-years-old wasn’t too young for early-onset Alzheimer’s. Maybe it was time to convince him to go to the doctor.

“We talked about a trip to the beach last week when the kids were here for dinner.” Ben gulped his coffee and coughed.

“I’m afraid you’re confused, dear.” Denise stared out the window at the wind whipping the fir trees in the yard. 

“I’m confused? I don’t think so, and I can prove it by texting Nick.” His fingers tapped his cell phone.

She searched her memory in panic. They must have discussed it when she was fussing over little Mari. “Don’t you remember when Mari threw a tantrum? That’s it. I just didn’t hear.” She crunched into her granola and chewed furiously.

Ben frowned. “No. I remember you said a trip to the beach sounded like fun. You’ve been forgetting all kinds of things lately. Let’s talk about it some more tonight.” He patted her hand.

 She jerked her hand away, irritated. Spending time with the kids was the highlight of her life. She wouldn’t have forgotten something so important. Ben was the one with the false memories. Today, she’d do some internet research and be prepared to discuss his symptoms. She gulped down a shot of panic with her coffee. The thought of being his caretaker was terrifying.

Ben filled a travel mug. “What time is your interview today?”

Denise froze in confusion and clicked on her calendar app. There it was: 8:30 Interview-Anderson Veterinary Clinic.

It was almost eight o’clock. That gave her no time for idle chit-chat with her annoying husband. Mr. High and Mighty. He thought he knew everything.

In the shower, she scrubbed her neck with Dove soap. She had forgotten the time of the interview because her old job at The Cat and Dog Clinic had started at 9:30. After all those years, she was in a habit. It was a crime that the new owner at the Dog and Cat had brought in a young receptionist to replace her only two weeks after he’d arrived. She should sue the management for ageism. 

Ben flushed the toilet. “So, I take it you’re late for your interview?”

Denise ignored him. He’d just lecture her when he was the one who had the problem. She rinsed and turned off the shower. “What time are you home today?” Avoiding his snarly eyes, she stepped onto the bathmat and dried herself off.

“Six-thirty. Hey, why are you using my towel?” Ben sighed.

She glanced at her white towel hanging on the rack. “Oh, I um. I’m in too big of a hurry to worry about a stupid towel.” She threw the tan towel on the floor and headed into her walk-in closet. 

As she slipped her red dress over her head, she focused on the upcoming interview. She had sent in an application and resume a couple of weeks ago. If she had time, she’d search the confirmation email for the name of the interviewer. Then again, maybe it didn’t matter. When she showed up, they’d direct her to the right person.

She glanced at the clock above the bedroom door in confusion. Why had Ben replaced the numbers on the clock with silver dots? No one could tell time with silver dots. Lately, it seemed he was out to get her.

Her phone. Now, where was her phone? She rushed into the bathroom and grabbed it off the counter. Eight-nineteen. She smeared on red lipstick. “What time do you get home today so we can talk?” She heard the agitation in her voice. It was past time they had it out.

“I told you three times now, six-thirty,” Ben lectured.

Denise raced to the garage and pushed the starter button in the Subaru. It clicked and words flashed across the screen: Access Key Required.

Her purse! Where was her purse? She jumped out of the car, tripped over a pair of shoes near the doorway, and screamed in frustration. That Ben was always leaving his big, fat sneakers right in the way. Oh, wait. Those were hers.

But her purse was in the closet, right where it belonged. If Ben was nearby, she’d point that out. A person with memory problems wouldn’t remember to keep things in their proper places. 

Hail clattered the car as she backed out of the garage, but there was no time to go back for her jacket. Spring weather in the Pacific Northwest was volatile. Even now, a rainbow stood in the middle of the street where a slice of sun shot through the clouds. By the time she got there, it would be all clear.

And if she was a few minutes late, it wouldn’t matter. She had lots of receptionist experience on her resume. With a glance of longing, she sped past the Cat and Dog Clinic, searching her memory as to why she’d quit. She came up empty. It didn't make sense. She had loved peeking in the cages at meowing cats of every color. Whiny dogs, with their wagging tails and toenails clicking nervously on the tile floor.

She pulled into the Anderson Veterinary Clinic parking lot. Hail and a shot of sun assaulted her as she raced to the door and opened it to a ding.

Sun shimmering on the wet fir trees through the back window and a smiling woman with hair like an apricot poodle gave the place a welcoming feel. The receptionist asked, “May I help you?”

“I’m Denise Carbin, here for an interview. Sorry to be a little late. Traffic was horrible.” She smiled, feeling hopeful.

The receptionist frowned. “Interview for which position?”

Denise blanked and panicked. What was the title of the woman she was speaking with? When she couldn't remember, she spoke words that to her own ears sounded personal and fun. “The exact position that you are in right now.”

“I don’t see an interview listed on Dr. Anderson’s schedule.” The receptionist raised her voice. “Jane, do you know anything about an interview happening today?”

A pale, wrinkled woman in a white lab coat appeared. “No. Dr. Anderson held interviews for a part time receptionist yesterday.”

Denise backed toward the door. “Oh, well…I guess there must have been some sort of mix-up.” She sighed. If they couldn’t get the date right, she didn’t want to work there anyway. She’d check the confirmation email they’d sent to arm herself with proof of their mistake when she talked to Ben tonight.

If she talked to Ben. Right now, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go home to more of his lecturing and tricks.

She scrabbled around in her purse for the smooth edges of her phone and then dumped her purse onto the front seat. Her pink wallet appeared, along with her hand sanitizer, make-up bag, and some receipts and coupons. But her cell was missing. She must have left it at home.

Sweat beaded her forehead as she drove. No wait. Ben was probably still at home, getting ready for work. She didn’t dare go there yet.

At a stop sign, she rested her head on the steering wheel and sipped air from the top of her chest. When she got home, she’d pack a bag and go for a little trip, all by herself. There’d be no one to lecture and question her. And no threat of caring for Ben who was surely beginning to experience early-onset Alzheimer’s. He was acting so odd lately.

She drove to the house and cheered to see his car gone. Then she raced into the house. Now, where was her phone? She hurried around, looking in every room. It was missing. Ben had probably hidden it from her. 

Anger built a fire in her chest. Maybe if she had some time to rest and think, she could come back and face the cruel reality of caretaking.

She yanked on a pair of jeans. Then she threw her overnight bag on the bed and stuffed in her clothes. Ben used to be so sweet. The love of her life and her best friend. When had he begun to change?

In the car, she paused to think. She’d packed her bag, but where was her cell phone? She raced back into the house to search. When she didn’t find it, her anger spilled forth as tears.

 Maybe it was best if she didn’t have it anyway. Then Ben couldn’t find her. After a day and night of exploring the streets of downtown Portland, she’d be ready to come home again and face that talk.

She backed out of the driveway, squinting against the bright sun. The shining puddles made everything look different and suddenly she was disoriented. It was no wonder. Every spring she felt like a mole coming out of hiding after months of rain. She stopped at a light, relieved to see the Safeway on Main Street. The sun went behind a cloud, making the sign for I-5 easy to spot.

 At the freeway ramp, she headed toward Portland. The big city was the perfect place to lose herself. Forget Ben and his strange antics. All she had to do was find a hotel. Any hotel and get a room.

She took exit 302 A toward City Center and was engulfed by towering buildings of anonymity. She laughed out loud, glad to be free. Here she could just be herself, free from criticism and the confusion it brought.

There was a famous bookstore nearby. What was it? Power’s Books. That was it. She’d go there as soon as she was settled. And wasn’t there a famous donut shop too? Voodoo Donuts. She couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into one of those sweet clouds from heaven.

She turned onto SW Taylor. There was a Hilton Hotel, the perfect place for a little get-away. She parked on the street and grabbed her overnight bag. A doorman opened the door and ushered her inside. Finally, someone who recognized her worth. She stood up straighter and walked to a reception desk with a smile.

“May I help you?” A young woman with black, shining hair welcomed Denise.

“I’d like a room for one night.” She glanced around the lobby. After she stowed her bag, she’d come back for a cookie.

The receptionist turned to her computer. “How many people in your party?”

“Just me. I’m on a personal vacation.” She smiled, feeling calmed by the luxury.

“I have a room with a view of the city streets.” The woman glanced up.

“Anything sounds wonderful.” Denise set her purse on the counter and fumbled for her wallet.

“That will be two-hundred dollars. And I’ll need your credit card on file for incidentals.” The woman smiled.

Denise opened her purse wide. There was her key, makeup bag, and hand sanitizer. But her wallet had vanished. She stuttered in panicked confusion. “I, I must have left my wallet in the car. I’ll be right back.” She grabbed her bags and hurried outside into the blinding sun. Now, where had she parked?

She wandered the hotel parking lot. Ah, there was the silver Subaru, right there. She clicked her key fob. Nothing happened. An ambulance siren blaring, streaked by. Fire trucks followed, bellowing honks. Irritated, she hurried away from the noise.

Maybe she had parked on 9th street. She came across a few silver SUVs, but her key fob didn’t work on any of them. She’d parked her car near the hotel. Which hotel was it? Denise turned to retrace her steps.

A homeless man waving his filthy, sleeveless arms and raving at the street blocked her way. No, that couldn’t be the right way. He hadn’t been there seconds ago. Where exactly was she?

Ben. Suddenly, she longed for him. His kindness. The way he cared for her and watched over her. He was her safety. 

She couldn’t wait to talk to him. Tears blinded her as she searched her purse for her cell. Where was her phone? She’d just had it. That raving homeless man must have stolen it.

Denise wandered the street with a burning hole in her heart the size of Ben, staring into the faces of people scurrying home. She searched for him.

Surely, he was very near. Ben, the love of her life and best friend would never leave her.