Still Alice

She’d read that regular meditation could increase cortical thickness and slow age-related cortical thi

After about twenty minutes, she returned to a more wakeful state, relaxed, energized, and hot. She waded back into the ocean, just for a quick dip this time, exchanging sweat and heat for salt and cool. Back in her chair, she overheard a woman on the blanket next to them talking about the wonderful play she’d just seen at the Monomoy Theatre. The hollowed-out flip-flopping surged back in.

That evening, John grilled cheeseburgers, and Alice made a salad. Lydia didn’t come home for di

“I’m sure rehearsal’s just ru

“She hates me now.”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

After di

John woke her on the couch. The television was off, and the house was dark. She must’ve fallen asleep before the movie ended. She didn’t remember the ending anyway. He guided her up the stairs to their bedroom.

She stood at her side of the bed, her hand over her disbelieving mouth, tears in her eyes, the worry expelled from her stomach and mind. Lydia’s journal lay on her pillow.

“SORRY I’M LATE,” SAID TOM, walking in.

“Okay, everyone, now that Tom’s here, Charlie and I have some news to share,” said A

Hugs and kisses and congratulations were followed by excited questions and answers and interruptions and more questions and answers. As her ability to track what was said in complex conversations with many participants declined, Alice’s sensitivity to what wasn’t said, to body language and unspoken feelings, had heightened. She’d explained this phenomenon a couple of weeks ago to Lydia, who’d told her it was an enviable skill to have as an actor. She’d said that she and other actors had to focus extremely hard to divorce themselves from verbal language in an effort to be honestly affected by what the other actors were doing and feeling. Alice didn’t quite understand the distinction, but she loved Lydia for seeing her handicap as an enviable skill.

John looked happy and excited, but Alice saw that he exposed only some of the happiness and excitement he actually felt, probably trying to respect A

Just beneath Charlie’s happiness and excitement, Alice saw a thick layer of nervousness covering a thicker layer of terror. Alice thought they were both obviously visible, but A

Lydia and Tom stood next to each other, talking to A

Tom’s smile was genuine, but Alice saw a subtle uneasiness about him, his eyes and cheeks slightly sunken, his body bonier. Was it school? A girlfriend? He saw her studying him.

“Mom, how are you feeling?” he asked.

“Mostly good.”

“Really?”

“Yes, honestly. I’m feeling great.”

“You seem too quiet.”

“There’s too many of us talking at once and too quickly,” said Lydia.

Tom’s smile disappeared, and he looked like he might cry. Alice’s BlackBerry in her baby blue bag vibrated against her hip, signaling the time for her evening dose of pills. She’d wait a few minutes. She didn’t want to take them just now, in front of Tom.

“Lyd, what time is your performance tomorrow?” asked Alice, her BlackBerry in hand.

“Eight o’clock.”

“Mom, you don’t have to schedule it. We’re all here. It’s not like we’re going to forget to bring you with us,” said Tom.

“What’s the name of the play we’re going to see?” asked A

“Proof,” said Lydia.

“Are you nervous?” asked Tom.

“A little, because it’s opening night, and you’re all going to be there. But I’ll forget you exist once I’m onstage.”

“Lydia, what time is your play?” asked Alice.

“Mom, you just asked that. Don’t worry about it,” said Tom.

“It’s at eight o’clock, Mom,” said Lydia. “Tom, you’re not helping.”

“No, you’re not helping. Why should she have to worry about remembering something that she doesn’t have to remember?”

“She won’t worry about it if she puts it in her BlackBerry. Just let her do it,” said Lydia.

“Well, she shouldn’t be relying on that BlackBerry anyway. She should be exercising her memory whenever she can,” said A

“So which is it? Should she be memorizing my showtime or totally relying on us?” asked Lydia.

“You should be encouraging her to focus and really pay attention. She should try to recall the information on her own and not get lazy,” said A

“She’s not lazy,” said Lydia.

“You and that BlackBerry are enabling her. Look, Mom, what time is Lydia’s show tomorrow?” asked A

“I don’t know. That’s why I asked her,” said Alice.

“She told you the answer twice, Mom. Can you try to remember what she said?”

“A

“I was going to enter it in my BlackBerry, but you interrupted me.”

“I’m not asking you to look it up in your BlackBerry. I’m asking you to remember the time she said.”

“Well, I didn’t try to remember the time, because I was going to punch it in.”

“Mom, just think for a second. What time is Lydia’s show tomorrow?”

She didn’t know the answer, but she knew that poor A

“Lydia, what time is your show tomorrow?” asked Alice.

“Eight o’clock.”

“It’s at eight o’clock, A

FIVE MINUTES BEFORE EIGHT O’CLOCK, they settled in their seats, second row center. The Monomoy Theatre was an intimate venue, with only a hundred seats and a stage floor just a few feet from the first row.

Alice couldn’t wait for the lights to go down. She’d read this play and talked about it extensively with Lydia. She’d even helped her run lines. Lydia was playing Catherine, daughter of her mathematical genius-gone-mad father. Alice couldn’t wait to see these characters come alive right in front of her.

From the very first scene, the acting was nuanced, honest, and multidimensional, and Alice became easily and completely absorbed in the imaginary world the actors created. Catherine claimed she’d written a groundbreaking proof, but neither her love interest nor her estranged sister believed her, and they both questioned her mental stability. She tortured herself with the fear that, like her genius father, she might be going crazy. Alice experienced her pain, betrayal, and fear right along with her. She was mesmerizing from begi

Afterward, the actors came out into the audience. Catherine beamed. John gave her flowers and a huge, emphatic hug.