just so Frank could get used to her.
The second time she visited, he called her by his mother’s name.
She didn’t correct him.
She simply asked,
“Want to watch a western?”
They watched two.
I booked the 8:30 showing for opening weekend.
Two reserved seats.
Row F.
Exactly in the middle.
I even bought Owen a Spider-Man shirt as a joke.
He proudly wore it.
That Friday evening, Frank was asleep in his recliner when we left.
Mrs. Pham sat nearby knitting.
“Go,” she told us. “Enjoy yourselves. I’ll call if I need anything.”
Owen lingered near the door.
“What if he wakes up confused?”
“She knows what to do.”
I took his hand.
“Two hours, Owen. Tonight you don’t have to be a caregiver. You get to be a man going to a movie with his wife.”
He smiled.
“Just a guy at a movie.”
“Exactly.”
The
