Today was the arrival of her father-in-law. He would be coming to stay permanently. She was so angry about this, but couldn't fight it. The man was elderly and needed care. They couldn't afford a home. His wife had passed about six months ago.
Charlotte disliked him from the moment they met. She had gone to visit him and his wife in Maine once. Conner had taken her there. When they both saw each other, they just didn't click. As the days and months went by, she grew to dislike him even more.
He had his wife waiting on him twenty-four seven, it seems. She served him food, she picked out his clothes, she combed his hair and bathed him. She had to nag him often to brush his teeth. He had aged very rapidly in Maine. He was seventy-four, and looked about eighty-five. Charlotte didn't know why he'd aged so much, and other seventy-four year-olds looked sixty or even fifty sometimes. He was a farmer, and that should have kept him active and healthy.
He had thin grey hair. His face looked wrinkled, his cheeks slightly sunken. He was about five two, having lost some height due to age. He was slightly hunched over when he stood.
He was supposed to use a cane or a walker when he went places. But he didn't. So he walked very slowly, slightly hunched. Every day she marveled at how old he looked.
"He was a farmer." Conner said one night as they lay in bed. He'd been staying there for a month. "He wore out his body. Now he wants to rest."
"I don't think you should continue to wait on him like Sylvia did." Charlotte said bitterly. "He can do things for himself. I also think he should get into some physical therapy."
"We'll figure it out." Conner said sighing. "Go to sleep."
"He does have all that money in his savings account." She said a few minutes later. He had turned sixty-five and gotten a savings account that was not taxable. The account had money that accrued over time. He could use that money for medical needs, caregiving, living expenses. It was tricky though, to use the money. She had heard once he could even use it to take vacations. If he wanted to go somewhere, he could take a caregiver with him.
"Drop it, Charlotte." He said bitterly.
She watched as he continued the routine. She was very angry. She wondered what she was going to do when Conner left. Conner was a fire fighter, and fire season was around the corner. She really didn't want to have to wait on him like this.
"What is the deal with you and my dad?" Conner asked a week later as she finished serving him dinner. She had set his plate in front of him with a clank. The meat wasn't even cut up.
"I don't know." She muttered sadly. "I've never really liked Robert." She declared. "He's a sexist, bitter old man. You all can't stop fighting over land, and you give into whatever he wants. I also don't like the way he treats me. He expects me to do everything for him, knowing that I don't like him, and he's never liked me."
She regretted opening her mouth a few days later. A friend of Conner's had told him he could get a caregiver through the state. He could even pay a family member or friend to do the caregiving. So he brought this idea to Charlotte.
"You can do it when I'm away during fire season or other emergencies." He said happily. "The cool thing is, he doesn't even have to touch his savings."
"Oh god, Conner! I'd have to bathe him!" Charlotte whined.
"Honey, you were eventually going to have to do that." Conner said sadly. "I'm leaving soon. Why don't you practice now?"
So she did. She fell into the routine she hoped she wouldn't. She served him his dinner, she cut his food up. He demanded water, complained about her food, and was generally just sour. She made him pick out his own clothing.
She had tried to see if it was possible for him to bathe himself. So she left him on the shower chair with the water running. She would leave him there for fifteen minutes, and check on him. This routine went on for two weeks. Yet, he didn't smell any better.
Charlotte set him up in the tub one day, and walked away. He scrubbed at his legs, his chest, his belly. But he wasn't even putting any elbow-grease into his washing. He hadn't even gotten his hair wet yet. She inwardly moaned. Now she really would have to bathe him. She wondered why it was he just wouldn't do anything for himself?
"Remember, honey." Conner said one night as they lay in bed. "You get paid for this."
"Why is he such a cranky bitter old sedentary person?" she asked bitterly. "Now he's complaining he wants to go back to Maine."
"I know. He told me yesterday during lunch. You happen to step out to get groceries."
He couldn't go back. He had diabetes, and took insulin for it. He lived alone in Maine. He wouldn't have anyone to help him. He also took medication for his blood pressure. He had to keep track of it, and always forgot. He also really loved sugar. He would probably eat too much the first week of being alone. He complained often about her bland meals.
She officially became his caregiver a month after she started trying it out. She had to admit, it was kind of nice. Not much had changed. She just got paid to be here whenever he needed her. They did have to split the caregiving. Conner would take the months he was here, and Charlotte would take the months he was gone. There was a special arrangement in case Conner spent more time away than he intended.
So Conner left a week later. He had left in the morning. He had said goodbye to Robert and Charlotte had taken him to the police station to meet a friend.
She basically spent her time after that in silence. She got home, made breakfast. She fed her father-in-law, and they both retired to the living room. She turned on the TV for him, and put the remote in his lap. He grunted a thanks, and she nodded at him. Then they went back to silence.
She vacuumed the living room. She mopped the kitchen. She watched as he dozed occasionally. His head would often jolt up and he'd snort loudly. He'd focus on the TV and watched for a while. Then would fall asleep a moment later. She went and swept the bedrooms as he lay there. She actually got around to washing the tub. She couldn't leave the house now that she was caregiving, so she got bored.
"Make a meal, woman." He said as she got done washing the tub. "And help me up. I have to go."
She got cleaned up and went to him. She helped him up, and led him to the bathroom. She waited outside, and he came out soon after. She led him to the dining room table. She had finished dinner a while ago.
"You're cutting up your own food." She said bitterly as she served him. It was a baked potato and a piece of steak. He gave her the dirtiest look she'd ever seen.
That week she noticed he never brought up the subject of bathing. She caught him brushing his teeth, but he hardly brushed. He ran the brush over his teeth without putting any elbow grease into it.
"What are you doing?" she asked him bitterly as she went in. He didn't answer. "Ugh, Robert, no wonder you're always getting sick. You don't wash properly."
She had to bathe him and help brush his teeth. She waited as long as she could to avoid it. But she had to.
Charlotte leaned into the tub, and filled the bucket again. Grabbing the cup on the edge of the tub, she filled it. She showered him with a few cups full. She grabbed the soap and soaped up his back. He held on to the rail as she washed other areas. She was careful not to linger at Robert's crotch. Charlotte grabbed the shampoo as he sat back down. Then started soaping his hair. She rubbed her fingers over his scalp, making him feel so good. He didn't say anything, of course. She noticed him relaxing into the massage as she did it. She washed behind his ears. He stood up again, and they washed all the soap out.
She handed him his towel as the shower came to an end. "Dry yourself." She snapped.
Two days later, she bought an exercise mat. She looked up some exercises for older folks, and vowed to get him to do something.
"You just can't sit there all your life complaining about wanting to go back home." She said as he declined her offer. "If you can't even move around here, what makes you so sure you could survive there?"
