Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Grandpa doesn’t know how bad it had gotten. Together we had agreed to sell the house because he knew he was getting worse, too. He knew he was having episodes when he couldn’t remember who I was or even where he was. Sometimes he became distraught and would try to leave our home and I didn’t have the physical strength to stop him.
Though he thought we’d made out better than we had in the sale and that there is a good chunk of money left in the bank. He also thought this place cost a third of what it really does.
I couldn’t let him go into a place he thought we could afford. They don’t have everything this one has. This place has better doctors, programs, food, and nurses. Name it and this place has it. Not only that, it isn’t big. The place feels like a real home, not a nursing home.
I don't want him to think about any of that. To worry about what is going on. I am going to handle it. He doesn’t need the stress. Who knows what that could do to him?
“I’m perfect. You should see my new place. It’s as fancy as this dress I have on.” I put a little excitement into my words, hoping it settles him.
“As long as you’re happy, pumpkin, I’m happy.” He leans back in the bed, pulling me a little closer.
“I don’t think you’ve seen this one,” he tells me, and I nod my head in agreement. I don’t recognize the old black-and-white movie playing on the screen.
“You’ll love it. Got a sweet romance story in it.”
I blush at his words, but he’s right. I did always favor the ones where the hero comes to save the day and falls hopelessly in love with the heroine, even though he’s a rough and gruff cowboy who never had any real feelings until she came along.
I lie with my grandpa watching the movie and start to feel my eyes grow heavy. I know I should get up, but I can’t bring myself to move. Eventually I fall into a deep sleep, savoring the moment, knowing those same moments will soon be a rarity.
Chapter Seven
Mason
I stand in the doorway of the room and lean against the frame. Kennedy is asleep on the bed with her grandfather, and though I hate to wake her, it’s probably better if she isn’t here when he wakes up.
I got a call earlier from a doctor I contacted about her grandfather’s condition. After I hired Kennedy and did some digging into her background, I was led to the nursing home where her mother’s father resides. I arranged to pay for his care there and to see if there was anything else that could be done to ensure he has the best care available.
The nurses put me in touch with one of the country’s leading Alzheimer’s specialists. She looked over his file today and called me back. I didn’t want Kennedy to know I’d done this behind her back until I had good news for her. But from what the doctor told me, the outlook is not good. He’s fading faster as time goes on, and she said the best thing Kennedy can do is keep him in familiar surroundings, because change can be disruptive to a patient.
When I found out, a wave of guilt washed over me and I realized why she was doing this job. The place she chose isn’t cheap, and I can’t imagine the jobs she had before were enough to make the payments. I was able to get my investigator to pull everything on her and saw her bank accounts have been dwindling to almost nothing. She’s in a desperate situation, and I’m sure that’s why she took the job as an escort, but with the jealousy inside I can’t help but wonder how many times she’s done this before me. It doesn’t look like any large chunks of money were deposited into her account other than the money from the sale of a house. She may have taken payment in cash before so it wouldn’t show up. Still, I wonder if she could have possibly been up to this longer considering the cost of the nursing home.
The salary I pay her would more than cover it several times over. I know it’s probably a relief to her not to have to worry about it, but it makes me feel like a bastard. I’m paying her to take care of my needs so that she can have the money to care for her sick grandfather.
I needed to even the playing field, so I went ahead and paid for the next five years of care, with instructions to contact me personally for any other financial assistance the home might need. I’d also made a large charitable contribution so that they could renovate the back garden and create a space outside for him to enjoy.