I drove over for my cokes this morning. On dad's bedside table was a bottle of Barcardi rum. Half empty. "No," I said. "It couldn't be him." Still, it worried me.
Mom was asleep in the bed as the new alarm service was installing an alarm. The house was wide open to anybody who wanted to take anything. It was all rather strange.
"He's at work."
"She had a doctor's appointment."
Cary, the alarm guy was busily whistling a tune under the house as he strung wire.
"Mom, I'm going to ask you something and please don't get defensive. I honestly want to know."
"Okay," mom said looking at me warily.
"Do you actually sleep all this time in the bed? Do you daydream? Do you just dream if you sleep?"
"I actually sleep most of the time," mom said. "I take 3 Xanax at night and have become accustomed to sleeping in the day."
That answered one mystery except my parent's house was full of mysteries that went unanswered this morning.