Free Mendacious by Beth Ashworth

my grandmother’s cheek. “Goopie, I missed you. Sorry I’ve been a bad grandson lately. There have been some big deals happening at work.”
    I take a seat next to the bed and grasp her frail, wrinkled hand. She’s looking paler than normal. They’ve got her on a continuous drip now to try and keep the fluids going into her body, but it doesn’t look good at all.
    In fact, I feel like an arsehole. Work has come before my grandmother, which shouldn’t be the case. Alice had mentioned her weakening over the last few weeks, but I hadn’t thought it’d be this bad.
    Her eyes flicker open slightly and she squeezes my hand. “It’s lovely to see you, Alexander.” She beams from ear to ear and tries to sit up in bed.
    “Don’t strain yourself. I’ll come to you,” I say, edging the chair close so I’m in her line of sight. “I bought you some flowers. Do you like them?” I grab the bouquet and lift them closer.
    “Beautiful. Thank you, darling.” She sniffs them and fixes me with a cheery smile. “D-Did you come on your own today?” Her neck twists and she tries to look toward the door.
    “It’s just me today, Goopie. I know Mum and Alice have been over a few times this week, so I said I’d come today.”
    “Oh, that’s nice of you.”
    “Not really. I’ve barely seen you in the last month. What have you been watching on television lately? Anything good? How’s Jasper doing?” I ask, noticing she’s not listening. “What are you looking at?” My eyes follow her line of sight to the photo frame on the cabinet next to the door.
    “Why didn’t you bring Libby with you?” Her voice is a weak and fragile whisper.
    Closing my eyes, I sigh and squeeze her hand gently. “Goopie ... I’m not married to Libby anymore. We got a divorce, remember?”
    “What do you mean?” A hacking cough wracks her frail form.
    “Shh,” I say trying to calm her down. My fingers continue to squeeze her hand, but she’s not looking at me. The coughing escalates until I’m left with no choice but put an oxygen mask over her face.
    And now I feel even worse than before. I’m responsible for making my grandmother feel like shit. Yeah, I’m a dickhead.
    After ten or so minutes of watching her breathe in the oxygen, she decides to take off her own mask. Putting it on the side, she reaches for a mint humbug and offers one to me, which I can’t help but take. My weakness is my sweet tooth.
    “Thanks.” I take it from her and she grabs another for herself. “Where’s Jasper?” I ask again to change the subject.
    “What time is it?”
    “Almost six.”
    “Jasper will be here soon to watch Home & Away with me,” she replies, popping the sweet in her mouth. “You’ll see him soon.”
    Jasper is an old gentleman who lives a few doors down in the nursing home. When he met my grandmother the first day she came to stay, they connected as if they’d known each other for years. It was nice. My gramps died in his early sixties, so my grandmother had been alone for a long time.
    “That’s alright. I’ll head off soon if he’s coming to see you. I don’t want to interfere or anything. I’ll be back next week. How about we go for a walk out in the gardens?” I nod at the wheelchair in the corner of the room. “Would you like that?”
    She nods slowly, but I’m not sure my words are sinking in. There’s a look of confusion on her face and I know what she’s about to say.
    “Are you alright?”
    “Oh, Alexander.” Her eyes connect with mine and she smiles happily. “When did you get here? Did you bring Libby with you today?”
    My lips force a smile, but I’m breaking apart inside. This kills me each time I come and see her. Our ten minute conversation has just gone. Vanished. Like a puff of smoke it’s evaporated into the air.
    My grandmother is eighty-seven years old and has suffered with Alzheimer's disease for the last six years. It started mildly with some slight memory loss, but it’s progressed