In November the forgetting got worse in a way that was no longer theoretical.
Ruth arrived at Evelyn's on a Saturday with her sweater inside out and a look in her eyes that Aaliyah recognized from the hospital—patients who knew they had lost a thread and were smiling hard enough to pretend they still held it. Elias ran to her with a drawing of a T. rex wearing a gold necklace, which made Ruth laugh, and then Elias said, "Nice lady, what's my middle name?" the way he said it every visit, a game they had invented, and Ruth opened her mouth and nothing came out.
The silence lasted three seconds. Four. Five.
"It's James," Elias prompted, helpful, still smiling. "Elias James Washington."
"Elias James Washington," Ruth repeated, and the smile she put on then was a brave and terrible thing. "Of course it is. I was teasing you."
She had not been teasing. Aaliyah saw that. Evelyn saw that. Elias, mercifully, did not.