“What movie?”
For the first time in days, he smiled.
“The new Spider-Man.”
I laughed.
“You’re thirty-eight.”
“I’ve seen every one since I was a kid.”
Then his smile faded slightly.
“My dad used to take me.”
I stayed quiet.
“It was the one place we could go where he didn’t yell,” Owen said. “You can’t yell through a movie without everybody noticing.”
He looked away.
“I always felt safe there.”
I reached for his hand.
“Then we’re going.”
It took almost three weeks to arrange.
I found a caregiver through an agency named Mrs. Pham.
She had spent twenty years working in memory care.
She came to our house twice before the movie
