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

by Katharine Sadler

  He pulled me in for a hug so tight I could barely breath, and tears pricked my eyes. He released me after about twenty seconds and stood. “I’ll drive, you talk.”

  Once he was back behind the wheel, I found the words didn’t come as easily as I thought they would. The whole town might already know my secret, but I’d been hiding for so many years, it wasn’t easy to open up.

  “So,” Lance said. “Turns out you are a fantastic liar.”

  I laughed, but I didn’t feel very happy. “I’ve had to be. My mother, she…Worries. I lie to her to help her stay calm, to keep her from worrying too much.”

  “I’m not sure I even realized you have a mother,” he said. “Carrie’s never mentioned her.”

  “I don’t talk about her. Not to anyone. Her worrying is pretty extreme, and she never leaves her apartment. Today, Mary visited her, which means…” I couldn’t say the words.

  “Which means everyone is going to know your mother is…”

  “Ill,” I said. “Anxiety, depression, paranoia. That’s what we know about anyway.”

  “And I assume Carrie knows about it?”

  Of course, his first thought was of Carrie. My own angry thought surprised me, but it was only because I knew he was right. I needed to talk to Carrie about this before she found out from someone else or she would hate me forever. “No one knows about it. Or no one did. The only people I ever told, they weren’t people from Catalpa Creek, at least not anyone who…No one who knew my family or my friends.”

  “No one who’d share your secret.”

  “Right.”

  I waited for him to tell me what a horrible person I was, what a horrible friend I was for lying to Carrie all these years.

  “It must have been awful,” he said.

  I swung my head to look at him. His eyes were on the road, his expression somber, his earlier elation from the jump gone. This is what the truth about my life did to people, it sucked the joy. “What?”

  He glanced at me, then looked back at the road. “It must have been hard to keep the secret, to not be able to vent or talk about it even with your best friends. Carrie would have helped, you know.”

  “No one wants to be dragged into my drama. When my mom first got sick, Carrie’s sister had just been killed. She had enough to deal with, enough people to worry about and take care of without adding me to the list.”

  “Everyone has drama,” he said. “And everyone needs help sometimes. How often does your mom need you?”

  “Not that often. She prefers to be alone. I call her five or six times a day and I take her groceries twice a week. Once a week I go over for dinner, but she only needs me more often if she’s having a bad week.”

  Lance’s frown deepened. “And how often does she have a bad week?”

  I looked out the window. His pity was making me claustrophobic. “It’s not that often. It’s fine. It’s really not a big deal at all.”

  He was silent for so long, I relaxed, figuring he’d accepted my answer. “It’s a huge deal, Dilly. You’ve been caring for your mother, keeping her secret, making the kind of sacrifices most people our age can’t even imagine. I can’t even imagine. You deserve to have someone to talk to about this, someone to lean on when it gets tough. I know Carrie would want to be that person for you, she’s going to be hurt you didn’t ask that of her.”

  I didn’t say anything. He might be right, but that didn’t mean it would have been fair of me to place my burden on Carrie.

  We drove the rest of the way to town in silence and, when he pulled up in front of my mother’s apartment building, I wished the drive had been longer.

  “Do you want me to come in?” he asked. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “No. People she doesn’t know scare her.” I stopped, my door open, halfway twisted to get out. “Thank you, Lance. You’re a good friend, even though I don’t deserve your friendship.”

  He grinned. “I haven’t made it easy, either.” He stuck out his hand and I shook it. “Truce?”

  “Truce.” I yanked his hand toward me and wrapped my arms around him in a big hug. Then, I got out of his car, shut the door, and walked toward my mother’s building.

  ***

  Oscar wasn’t on the front porch when I finally got home that evening, which was just as well, because I wanted his arms around me more than I wanted my next breath. If he’d been there, I’d have very likely begged him to take me back and forgotten all the reasons I was bad for him, all the reasons he deserved better.

  It had taken nearly two hours to calm my mother down. She’d been a sobbing, shaking mess. Luckily, Mary was gone by the time I’d arrived, but Aunt Melly apologetically assured me she’d seen enough to know just how dire the situation was with my mother.

  Buddy met me at the door. My face muscles felt creaky and stiff when I smiled down at my sweet baby. I dropped to my knees, wrapped my arms around him, and burst into tears. I cried until my head ached and my stomach grumbled with hunger. Buddy didn’t leave my side during my crying jag, but stayed there, a stoic comfort.

  “I love you, Buddy.” I ruffled his fur and scratched between his ears. “You want to go for a walk?” He bounced in place and his tongue hung out in excitement. I leashed him up and took him out. The view of the mountains and the quiet of the late afternoon soothed me and gave me hope that everything would work out okay.

  Back inside, I got Buddy set up with some dinner and grabbed my phone. My call went straight to Carrie’s voice mail, so I left her a message asking her to call me back right away. I tried to keep it light, because I didn’t want to scare her, but I needed to talk to her before she heard the truth from someone else.

  My cupboards were practically bare, but I didn’t want to go out and risk running into someone who’d already heard the news about my mother. I fixed myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and was halfway through it when a knock at the door interrupted me mid-chew. My appetite vanished, and my heart dropped. I was sure it was someone who’d heard about my mother and wanted to get the story from me.

  The knock came again. I put down my sandwich, swallowed, and stood. I pulled in a deep breath and walked to the door.

  I swung the door open and my breath caught. He looked so good, his hair damp like he’d just taken a shower, his shirt fitted, his smile careful. It took everything I had not to grab him and drag him inside. “Oscar.”

  “Dilly. I wasn’t sure you were here. I was going to walk Buddy.”

  Disappointment lanced through me. Of course, he was there for Buddy. He shouldn’t be there for any other reason. “I’ve already walked him. Thank you.”

  He didn’t walk away. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He looked good. Tired, but good. I wished…But wishes were useless. “Dilly. I want to try. I don’t understand why you can’t leave your mother, but I’ll support you if that’s really what you want. I don’t want to lose you.”

  Hope filled me, and I felt like I could float away. I could walk into his arms and we could figure it all out together. He could meet my mom and he could…No. I wouldn’t do that to him. He’d moved to Catalpa Creek for freedom, for a simpler life, and I wasn’t going to ruin it for him. “We had a good time together,” I said, each word hurting on the way out. “The best time, Oscar, but it’s over now.”

  “No.” His cheeks flushed with anger. “It’s stupid to throw away what we have over a silly argument—”

  “My mother’s safety and wellbeing aren’t silly to me. I might not be as brave as you, but I’m not so heartless that I can just walk away from my mother and leave her to suffer alone.”

  He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t think you’re silly, Dilly. I want—”

  “You want me without a mother who needs me, without responsibilities that interfere with your plans.” I didn’t believe most of what I was saying, but I clung to the words like they were truth. I needed to believe what I was saying, or he’d never believe it.

  “No. Dil
ly, I—”

  “Please go. I’ll let you know if I need help with Buddy.”

  He shook his head. “Sure. I’ll leave you alone.”

  He walked away and, though I thought I didn’t have any more tears left, two slipped down my cheeks. It was for him, I reminded myself. He would be happier without me. I could never be the girlfriend he deserved.

  ***

  I was woken from a dead sleep by the ringing of my land line. Only two people had that number and I knew if either of them was calling me in the middle of the night, the news wasn’t good. Groggily, I pulled myself out of bed and hurried to the phone.

  “‘Lo,” I said.

  “Dilly. I heard something.” My mother’s voice was a hissed, desperate whisper and my heart sank. I definitely wasn’t getting back to sleep.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  “No,” she shrieked. “You can’t come over here. They’ll get you, Dilly. Maybe I should call the police.”

  She’d never call the police. As anxious and paranoid as she was, she’d die before she let the police find out how she was living. That’s how badly she wanted to keep her secret. “Don’t call the police, Momma. I’ll be careful, okay. I’ll take the car and I’ll run right up to you.”

  “O-okay. As long as you’re careful.”

  I hung up and dropped my head into my hands. I was so tired, and I had a busy day at work scheduled for the next day.

  Buddy was already up and sniffing around, trying to figure out what was going on. “I’m sorry, Buddy. I’m going to have to go out. I should be back soon, but if I’m not, Oscar will be over to let you out, okay?”

  I gave Buddy a big hug, pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie over my pajamas and headed out the front door. Buddy tried to follow, but he obeyed when I asked him to stay. I hated to leave him, but the alternative, letting my mother work herself up into a fit, was not an option.

  When I got to my mother’s apartment, she let me in and hugged me, holding me as tight as her frail arms could manage. Her heart was beating so fast and so hard I could feel it even through the two layers of her sweatshirt and mine. “It’s okay, Momma. I’m here. No one is outside, everything is fine.”

  She stepped back from me, her eyes red-rimmed, her gaze darting around the room. “Are you sure? I heard someone scratching at the window, Dilly. They’ve found out where I live, and they’ve come to get me.”

  This was new. “Who’s come to get you, Momma?”

  “The people from that home you want to send me to. They’re coming to get me.”

  It was moments like this that I wondered if my mother was as truly scared as she put on, or if she was working herself up to prove a point. Talking about people scratching at her window to come get her sounded more like something a schizophrenic person or someone with delusions would say, and my mother had never had delusions before. Either she was getting worse, or she was playing up her fears to get me to back off sending her to a home. “No one’s going to force you to do anything, Momma. And no one is going to kidnap you to take you there, okay?”

  “I heard them, Dilly. I heard them at the window.”

  “Mom, there’s no one here. I promise. Let’s get you back to bed.”

  She started to cry, gripping my wrist as I led her back to bed. “Please, Dilly. You have to believe me. I’m not safe here.”

  I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against my side. “It’s okay, Momma. I’m here.”

  I led her to bed and got her tucked in. She rolled onto her side and I rubbed her back while she cried.

  “Promise you won’t leave me, Dilly.”

  The words felt like a vise around my throat. She was never going to be okay on her own, she was never going to stop calling me or needing me to check in. I’d always known it would be this way, but it felt more suffocating, more horrible than I’d imagined. My life would always be devoted to her. “I’ll stay. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  She sighed with relief and her eyes drifted shut. I stayed by her side, my chest tight and my eyes burning, until her breathing deepened and her body went limp. I sat there a moment longer, just watching her sleep. Even in sleep, her face was twisted with worry, her eyes shifting under her lids as though she was already dreaming.

  I stood and left the room, closing the door silently behind me. I held the tears back until I was seated on the couch. I dropped my head into my hands and I cried for my mother, who had stopped being the mother I knew years ago. I cried for Oscar, who I’d hurt, even though he was the best thing that had ever happened to me. And I cried for myself, because I’d never be free to really live my life. I’d always thought it would be okay, because I had a job I loved, and I was sure someday I’d find the right man, a man who could handle my mother’s needs, and would understand that she had to come first. A man I could care for without getting lost in him, without risking my own mental health by caring too much for him. But I was wrong. I would always be alone.

  My tears dried up quickly. I’d cried more in the past week than I had in my whole life, and I only had so many tears. I curled up on the lumpy couch and pulled a ratty throw blanket over me, but I didn’t sleep. I lay in bed feeling sorry for myself and thinking of all the things I’d never have because my mother, through no fault of her own, was ill and needed me.

  She was ill, but her fear of someone scratching at the window bothered me. She’d been ill for almost a decade and she’d never had a delusion like that. What if she was pretending? What if she’d made up that story because she was lonely, and she needed a way to get me over here?

  I shook my head against the pillow, disgusted with myself. I was being selfish and cruel. She was sick. It was more likely her lack of nutrition was causing confusion. She needed to see a doctor for her physical health, needed to get checked out, but she’d absolutely refused to leave the house or see a doctor. She’d refuse, but it was my job, as her only daughter, to protect her, to take care of her, even if she hated it.

  I’d have to get Aunt Melly to help me. Something had to be done. Mom couldn’t go on this way, and I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to her when I could have helped her.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Oscar

  I hurried out of the house, locked the door behind me, and started for the stairs, my mind on the day ahead and on…I looked up and saw her. She was walking toward the house, her head bowed, her shoulders slumped, her steps shuffling. I wanted to ask what was wrong, wanted to wrap my arms around her and hug her until she smiled. But I held back, because she’d asked me to keep my distance.

  As I neared her, she looked up and forced a smile. Her face was drawn, and her eyes were red-rimmed. Worse than that was the defeat that shadowed her usual bright expression.

  “Dilly.” I had no other words. I hated that she was hurting, but I didn’t know how to make it better for her. I wasn’t what she needed or wanted.

  She forced a smile. “Good morning, Oscar. Thank you for taking Buddy out, I appreciate it.”

  “Of course.” I wanted to tell her that I’d do so much more, that I’d give her everything I was and everything I had to somehow make this better for her, but she hurried past me. “I’m running late. See you later.”

  She disappeared inside, and I walked away from her, even though each step felt like a mistake. I kept walking because it was what she wanted, and, if I was honest with myself, it was what I should want. I’d moved to Catalpa Creek for a simpler life. I shouldn’t want to get involved with her drama, and I couldn’t sit by and do nothing while I watched her throw her life away. I suspected she was only enabling her mother, allowing her to get worse by giving up her own freedom, but I knew she wouldn’t hear me if I tried to tell her that.

  I unlocked the door to the spa and let myself in, flipping the sign to open. Then I walked the place and made sure everything was as it should be. I tried to focus on work, but I just kept seeing her sad and exhausted face, just kept thinking of her taking care of h
er mother alone, with no one to help her or make her smile at the end of a rough day.

  She didn’t want me, I reminded myself, as I helped customers. But I couldn’t forget the way she’d smiled at me, the way she’d felt in my arms, coming apart at my touch. Whatever my brain said, my heart and my body and my instincts contradicted it. Deep down, I knew she wanted me, knew she might even love me, but none of that mattered if she kept pushing me away, if she wouldn’t let me love her.

  By the end of the day, by the time I’d said goodbye to the last customer, I’d managed to push all thoughts of Dilly down deep, had started to let her go. It hurt, but it was necessary to my sanity.

  I locked the door and started toward the street, but the ringing of my phone stopped me. Because I’d been thinking of her all day, I expected to see Dilly’s name on the caller ID, but it wasn’t her.

  “Hey, Molls,” I said. “How are you feeling?”

  “Still puking my guts up every morning. How are you?”

  I walked down the street. “Hanging in there.”

  “That doesn’t sound like my happy, free-spirited brother. Everything okay?”

  I was in no mood to talk about myself. “What’s up, Mol?”

  She sighed, knowing me well enough to know when not to push. “I was hoping you might be willing to fly out to Vegas tomorrow night to watch me get married.”

  I stopped walking. Stunned. “Tomorrow? You couldn’t manage to give me any advance warning?”

  “It was a fluke of our work schedules. We both have three days off at the same time. Mom and Dad will be there and everyone else is trying to get tickets. Except Ellie and Scott, because their kids have the stomach bug.”

  I didn’t really have the cash set aside for last minute tickets to Vegas, but one of the reasons I’d left the corporate world was to have a more flexible schedule, the freedom to be present for life’s best and biggest moments. “If I can get someone to cover the desk at the spa, it shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll let you know as soon as I have the details.”