The Good Guy on my Porch (Catalpa Creek #3)

by Katharine Sadler

  Sheila frowned. “I had no idea your mother was so ill, Dilly. Is there anything I can do?”

  “It’s a chronic illness. Most of the time she’s fine, but if she has a bad day…I just need to be here.” It was more than I’d told anyone at work about my mother, but I owed it to Sheila to at least try to explain. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not sending in an answer for you, Dilly. Not until the last minute. If you can find someone to care for your mother while you’re away, do it. I don’t want you to miss this opportunity.”

  “Maybe the ALA will meet in Catalpa Creek next year and I can speak at that conference.” I was joking, trying to lighten the mood, but Sheila didn’t take the bait.

  “You have until May 25th to make a final decision, Dilly. I hope you’ll change your mind.”

  I sighed. “I’m sorry, Sheila, but I won’t.”

  I let myself out of her office and headed off to start my day, feeling sorry for myself.

  I had a long line of nursing homes to visit and was crossing the parking lot in front of the library when I saw Mary heading my way. I ducked my head and tried to avoid her, but she shouted my name across the concrete expanse. “Dilly Thompkins, don’t you run away from me, or I will evict you.”

  I sighed, stopped, and turned toward her. “You’d never evict me. I’m your best tenant.”

  “Were my best tenant.” She was slightly out of breath from hurrying to catch up with me. “Oscar fixed his own clogged drain last weekend.”

  I smiled. “He’s good with his hands.”

  She winked. “I’m sure you’d know. I’m so thrilled you two finally got together, but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Is it quick? I’m on my way to Shallow Creek Retirement Home.”

  “I’ll walk with you. I could use the exercise.”

  We walked together for half a block and hope bloomed that she’d forgotten what she’d wanted to talk to me about. I’d never been lucky, and I wasn’t lucky that day.

  “It’s about your mother, dear,” Mary said. “I want to see her.”

  “I’m sure she’d love to see you.” My heart raced with panic at the idea. “But she’s in the middle of a huge project for work and she doesn’t have time for visitors.”

  “I see. And what’s her work again?”

  “Website design. Freelance.” I’d come up with that make-believe career for my mother years ago. It had been an easy answer, a job that made sense for a shut-in, but it wouldn’t hold up to scrutiny. Especially not after I’d taught Mary how to navigate the Internet in a series of computer classes I’d taught for seniors.

  Mary’s eyes lit up. She looked way too excited. “That’s wonderful, Dilly. I’ve been thinking of creating a website for my rental property business, word of mouth only gets me so far these days. What are your mother’s rates?”

  “She’s not taking on new clients, right now. I really do need to get going.” Finally, we’d reached the nursing home.

  “It’s so strange. Norma Jane’s niece worked with your mother over at the hospital, and she said your mother was the most computer illiterate person she’d ever met.”

  It was true, my mother was terrible with computers. Always had been. She’d preferred writing things down on paper and human interactions. But there weren’t any work-from-home jobs I knew of that didn’t require a computer. “People change. I really do need to get to work.”

  “Of course, dear. What time will you be done with work?”

  “Six. Why?”

  “I’ll see you at six then, dear.”

  “What? Why?”

  “You’re going to take me to see your mother, Dilly.”

  “I told you, she’s really not in a good place for visitors.”

  “Because she’s so busy with her work? You know, I looked for her on-line, searched her name and all, and I couldn’t find a thing. Seems strange for a website designer not to have a website.”

  A sick dread rolled through me. Mary wasn’t going to let this go and everyone was going to know my mother’s secret. I could have gotten angry, but it wouldn’t have done me any good and Mary didn’t deserve my anger. “Can we talk about this after work? I’ll take you to dinner at that Mexican restaurant you like.”

  “Perfect,” she said, like we were just making a date to hang out together, not for her to interrogate me about my mother. “I’ll see you at six.”

  ***

  Mary’s eyes were damp, her plate of enchiladas untouched. “We knew something was wrong, but we had no idea…” She pressed a hand to her chest. “You poor child.”

  “Me?” I had told Mary about my mother’s overwhelming anxiety and paranoia, but I hadn’t really talked about myself or what impact her illness had on me. “I’m fine. My mother’s the one who’s sick.”

  “But you’ve been caring for her and keeping her secret…All this time.” Mary shook her head. “Why didn’t you ask for help? How have you kept this secret?”

  “Aunt Melly helps with Mom. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

  She reached across the table and covered my hand with her own. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to pretend with me. I may never have cared for someone with the type of illness your mother suffers from, but I cared for my Howie for five years while the cancer spread through his body. I understand the toll it takes on a person.”

  I pulled my hand out from under hers and dropped my attention to my food, my chest tight for some inexplicable reason. “It’s not a big deal. She doesn’t have cancer, she just doesn’t like to leave the house.”

  Mary said nothing and, when I looked up, she was eating, her gaze on me pitying and sad. I didn’t need her pity. If she had any idea what a terrible daughter I’d been to my mother, she wouldn’t feel any pity for me at all.

  We finished our meal in silence and I thought the conversation was done. Mary had all my secrets and she’d move on. I was so very wrong.

  When the check arrived, I reached for it, but Mary beat me to it. “I’ve got this, dear.”

  I didn’t argue, since I felt like I’d been on trial the entire dinner. After the waitress took Mary’s credit card, she folded her hands together. “I want you to take me to see your mother. Tonight.”

  “I thought you understood,” I said. “Visitors upset her.”

  “Too bad. I’m an old friend, someone who should have been visiting her for years. I’m going to make up for that and I’m going to start tonight.”

  “Even if it upsets her? Even if it scares her?”

  “I’m no psychologist, but I’m not exactly a scary person. I’ll keep her secret for you, Dilly, but I want to see her. I may upset her at first, but she’ll get over it.”

  “I don’t think you understand the severity of her condition.” Panic rolled through me. Mom had been so calm, and if Mary upset her,…It would send her into fits and Oscar would discover just how difficult a relationship with me could be. “If she gets upset—” The waitress returned Mary’s card and I shut up while Mary signed the slip and slid the card back into her wallet.

  “I see you,” Mary said. “The ladies and I have taken a special interest in you since we started coming to your book club and we’re all worried. Do you know how many days of the month you come to work with dark circles under your eyes because you haven’t gotten enough sleep?”

  “I’m a night owl. I always have been.”

  She pinched her lips together and shook her head. “I’m trying to help you, Dilly. Why do you continue to lie to me?”

  Because I didn’t know how not to lie? Because if I admitted to her that taking care of my mother was taking a toll on me, I might not be able to convince myself it was fine? I might start to resent my mother. Because I hated the pity in her eyes? I was strong and capable, and I didn’t need anyone’s help. “I’m asking you, Mary, as kindly as I can, to back off. You think you’ll be helping by seeing my mother, but you won’t. She’s going to freak out and then she’ll be calling me at three
AM, because she thinks you’re back and trying to break in to kidnap her for some nefarious purpose. She’s been calm this week. Please, just let this go.”

  Her eyes widened and her jaw set. “I had no idea, Dilly. I’m so, so sorry. I let you down. We all did. But I’m going to fix it.”

  “You can’t fix this. There is no fixing my mother.”

  She pushed back her chair and stood. “Come on. I’ll drive. We’re going to see your mother.”

  “No. I refuse to take you to see her.”

  She walked around the table and faced me, cupping my cheek. “I wish you would let me help, Dilly. But if you refuse, I’m not going to push. I’ll see you at book club on Tuesday.”

  And just like that, she left. It was way, way too easy and I had a bad feeling this wasn’t over. I needed to let my aunt know to be on the lookout for Mary, but she wouldn’t be back from Italy for two more days. I left a message on her answering machine and headed for home. I just wanted to snuggle down on the couch in Oscar’s arms and forget everything Mary had said. Forget the pity in her eyes. I was fine. Everything was fine.

  ***

  Oscar was on the porch, Buddy next to him, but he didn’t smile when I started down the walk. He stood and met me halfway. “What happened with your meeting?” he asked. “When I didn’t hear from you, I texted. When I still didn’t hear from you, I figured it was bad news.”

  I’d gotten his texts, but I hadn’t known what to tell him, hadn’t known how to explain through text message that I’d been given a wonderful opportunity I wasn’t going to take. “I’m so sorry. It’s been a crazy day.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  I slipped my fingers through his and walked us to the porch. “It’s nothing. Just a librarians’ conference. They want me to give a speech.”

  “That’s great.” His expression filled with pride. “Congratulations. When is it? Where is it? Can non-librarians attend?”

  I laughed. It was so good to see him, to get away from my day. “I’m not going. It’s no big deal.”

  His smile fell. “No big deal? What’s the conference?”

  I wanted to lie to him, but I couldn’t. Not anymore, not about something he was bound to find out anyway with the way this town gossiped. “It’s the ALA. They have a conference every year.”

  “The ALA? As in the American Library Association? What do they want you to talk about?”

  “Just about what I’ve been doing with outreach here, programs I’ve instituted, what’s worked and what hasn’t.”

  “That’s amazing,” he said. “How are you not more excited about this?”

  “You saw what happened when I got up to sing karaoke. Public speaking isn’t my thing.” Maybe I could lie just a little. Though it wasn’t really a lie, more of an omission, because it wasn’t fear that was keeping me from the conference.

  “But you’d be talking about your passion, about what you do every day, it would be totally different from karaoke.”

  He was right and sadness tightened my throat. I’d always wanted to go to an ALA conference, they always had great talks and presentations. And the idea of talking about what I did, of helping other libraries implement similar programs, sounded amazing. “It’s in New Orleans,” I said. “I—”

  “New Orleans? You would love that city, the art, the music, the huge old homes. Not to mention the beignets and gumbo.”

  “You’ve been?” I asked, glad for the subject change.

  He grinned. “Not yet. I should go with you. I could probably find someone to cover for me at the spa and we could see the city together. Make a vacation out of it.”

  My heart sank. I’d been crazy to think I could have Oscar, even for a short time. “I could never leave my mother for that long.”

  “You’re not going to go because of your mother?”

  “I told you, she’s ill. I can’t leave her.”

  “How long is the conference?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I can’t even leave her for a day. What if she needs me and I can’t get to her? Physically, she’s very weak. I can’t risk something happening to her.”

  And then I saw it, the look I’d seen on the faces of so many other people I’d cared about. The disbelief and the dawning horror as he realized what continuing to date me would really mean, how constrained we’d be. There’d be no vacations to Caribbean beaches, no trips to meet his family, no trips anywhere outside of Catalpa creek. “Couldn’t your aunt help her if she needed something?”

  “She needs me. It’s me she’s terrified of losing. If my aunt goes to her when she’s upset, she’ll assume I’m dead. I can’t leave.”

  He studied me, his jaw working. “What if I help? Or if you explain to her exactly where you’d be?”

  “I’ve promised her I’ll never leave town again. If I told her I wasn’t going to be in Catalpa Creek, even just for a day, she’d have a meltdown.”

  He looked absolutely stunned. “You’ll never leave Catalpa Creek? Not even for a day? How could you make a promise like that?”

  Damn this hurt. “The last time I left her, she almost died. I won’t leave her again. It’s the least I owe her. I get that you don’t understand that, or like it, but it’s what I have to do.”

  “And you’re just going to accept that?” he asked, disbelief and pity in his expression. Damn, but I hated pity. “You’re going to miss out on life because your mother is overly dependent on you?”

  Anger washed through me and I welcomed it. Anger was better than pain, better than sadness. “She’s not dependent on me, Oscar. She’s ill.”

  “Does she know what you’re giving up for her? Does she understand how her refusal to accept treatment is ruining your life?”

  “My life is fine. Just because I’m not the freewheeling, commitment-free girlfriend you’d like me to be doesn’t mean my mother should suffer. This is real life. This is what happens when you think about someone other than yourself.”

  His jaw tensed. “You think I’m selfish?”

  “I think you don’t understand what it means to be responsible for someone else. You got bored with your job in DC and you gave it up and moved here, followed your dreams and your passion. Not all of us are free to do that. I’m not free to do that.”

  “I’m not suggesting you pick up and move to a new town,” he said. “But I don’t see how going away for one day will hurt anything.”

  I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. “And that’s why this thing between us will never work. We’ve had fun, Oscar, but it’s time to end this.”

  Utter confusion twisted his brow. “End what? This conversation?”

  I gestured between us. “End this, whatever it is between us. I get that you don’t want to date someone so tied to her mother. It’s fine.”

  He backed away and the look in his eyes, disbelief, hurt, and…Disgust? It hurt. I’d never wanted him to look at me that way. “You want to break up with me because I suggested you should go to this conference that you clearly want to attend?”

  “I don’t want to attend it,” I said, lying to both of us now. “I hate public speaking. And I think we should break up, because you don’t want a girlfriend who can never leave town. You don’t understand me not wanting to go to a conference, you’ll never be able to understand why I won’t go with you to meet your parents or to that great resort you’ve always wanted to visit. It’s better if we end it now, so we can still be friends.”

  The hurt in his eyes grew more intense and he swallowed hard. “Do you use your mother as an excuse to end all your relationships? Or am I just special?”

  “Tell me the truth, would you want a girlfriend who could never travel anywhere with you? Who is stuck here with a mother who calls her all hours of the night and day?”

  “I thought it was something we’d talk about and work out, together,” he said. “It’s not a deal breaker for me, Dilly. I—”

  “But it is. One conference and you’re already trying
to convince me to abandon my mother. It’s better this way, Oscar. We should end this now, before you resent me, before either of us gets hurt.”

  He got to his feet and I realized I’d leapt to mine at some point. I wanted to get away from him. Buddy, between us on the porch, whined forlornly. Just one more living creature to add to the list of victims in my ridiculous week of giving into what I wanted without thinking about the consequences. “Too late,” he said. “I’m in love with you, Dilly. I’m willing to work through this, to make this work, but you have to be willing to try, too.”

  My heart stuttered, and my throat tightened. He loved me? It should have been such a happy moment, but it was a heartbreaking one instead, because I loved him, too. I loved him enough not to pull him into my world. I loved him enough to want to protect him from myself, from the bleak future I knew waited for me. It was bad enough when I’d known I’d be hurt, I wouldn’t drag this out and hurt him, too. “I’m sorry, Oscar. I have to be here for my mother and that means I’ve got nothing left for anyone else. I’m in just not built for any kind of serious relationship.”

  He clenched his jaw and something like anger flashed in his eyes. “I call bullshit. You’re throwing away what we have because you’re afraid. You might not be locking yourself up in an apartment, but you’re hiding from life the same way your mother does. You’re more afraid of living, of really experiencing life, than she is.”

  “I’m not afraid of anything.” He opened his mouth, but he said nothing. He shook his head, and then he marched inside and shut the door behind him. He didn’t slam it. He should have slammed it if he was so mad. I looked down at Buddy. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

  He whined and dropped his head onto his paws. He didn’t believe me either.

  “I’m not afraid of anything,” I whispered. I pulled in a deep breath and ignored the tight pain in the center of my chest. I’d done the right thing, for Oscar and for me. He deserved better.