by Paula Boyd
I smiled suggestively, or perhaps deviously. “And what about when I just want you?”
He pulled me up and tugged me toward him. “I am always on call for you.”
Chapter
Thirty-One
When we arrived back at the hospital, Lucille was still out of it. Jerry convinced me to go to the hotel, which was nearby, and sleep in a real bed for the rest of the day. He’d had work to do for a while but he came back and spent the night with me. And with no immediate dramas hanging over our heads from anyone anywhere, it was a glorious night, one I could get used to experiencing on a regular and routine basis. One might say I was glowing when Jerry dropped me off at the hospital the next morning.
I was also a little more grounded in reality since I’d had some time to review some of the paperwork regarding my surprise inheritance. The call from Bob Little’s attorney had cleared up any lingering questions about the situation being a mistake. It wasn’t. And furthermore, I had urgent situations that required my utmost and immediate attention. Mr. Attorney did not appreciate my pithy comments as we went along, so I just quit listening to his rambling about the list of things I had to do. I did perk up when he told me that the toxic waste police were already onsite at “my” ranch and would be getting with me very soon to let me know what I was going to do about my pesky little dumping problem. I informed him that he was the attorney of record and that he could just handle it. He informed me otherwise. I did not foresee a warm and chummy friendship with Mr. Attorney.
When I arrived at Lucille’s room in intensive care, she was gone. I might admit to a brief moment of panic—okay, it shot through me like a knife—but it was only for a second. I went to the nurses’ desk and found out that she’d been moved to a regular room one floor up.
They’d given me the room number, but I wouldn’t have needed it. I could hear her the minute I rounded the corner. She was definitely wide awake now.
“Jolene!” she screeched as I walked into the room. “Did you put them up this?”
A male nurse in purple scrubs stood beside her bed, adjusting the IV. “I’m Phillip. I’m the nurse on duty.” He did not sound excited about it. “She’s been a little agitated since she got here. We’ve called the doctor to get her something.”
“That’s my daughter, and she’ll put a stop to all this nonsense.” She waved her good arm at Phillip. “She won’t let you drug me!”
Phillip finished his work and walked out. I knew I’d be talking to him shortly in private, not that he didn’t already know all he needed to know about what he was dealing with.
“Do you know what that doctor said before he moved me down here?” she said, bypassing any social niceties such as “good morning” or the obligatory “how are you.” “He said they’re going to send me to the nursing home in a few days. I never heard of such a thing. I suppose I ought to be glad I’m not a horse or they’d have already shot me dead.”
“Yes, good thing you’re not a horse,” I agreed.
“You’re not going to let them put me in the home, are you, Jolene? You wouldn’t do that to your own mother, would you? I am your mother, you know, and I don’t care what anybody says. And I’ll shoot the first one I hear asking you who your ‘real’ mother is, that’s what I’ll do. I just dare somebody to say that. Real my hind foot. I’m as real as they come, that’s what I am.”
“Yes, Mother, dear, you absolutely are as real as real can be and then some.”
She scowled at me. “Well, don’t you forget it.”
“How could I? My damaged little psyche is not about to let you off the hook simply because we don’t share the same blood type. And furthermore, it’s not a nursing home, it’s a rehabilitation center, and God knows you need rehabilitating.”
She huffed and sputtered. “You make it sound like I’m some hopped up druggie being sent off to get clean.”
“Pardon me. I did not mean to imply that you were a druggie. It is a physical rehabilitation center that, and yes, you are definitely in need of it.”
She crossed her arms and huffed again. “I suppose I should be honored that you’re still treating me just as hateful as you always have, even knowing the truth. I suppose I should be, but I’m not. I don’t care what you call it, that place is a home full of old people, and I’m not going there. You can’t do this to me.”
I stood at the end of the bed, resisting the urge to point my finger at her. “First of all, I am not doing anything to you. You need specialized help so you can get back to walking again quickly. That isn’t a special Hell I dreamed up just to make you miserable. It’s just what you have to do. There is no choice. So, as you’ve told me before, just suck it up and do it. Besides, it’s only for a few weeks, not the rest of your life.”
She stuck out her chin and tipped her nose up. “Well, then, I suppose since you’ve got me all penned up, you’ll run off back to Colorado and just leave me here to go through it all by myself.”
“Merline and Agnes will be here every day, I’m sure. And so will Fritz.”
“You are going to leave!” she shrieked.
“Yes, Mother, I am. This afternoon, in fact. The sooner the better even.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Well, that is just the most hateful thing I’ve ever heard of. That is just the meanest thing you’ve ever done. Ever!”
“Yes, well, it may be, but I still have to go find something to do with my home since I will apparently be here in Texas for quite some time. Seems there are lengthy dealings with the estate of a man I never really met, not to mention your home that needs tending, and last, but certainly not least, there’s the always-pressing need to try to limit your access to trouble. Actually, that last one is impossible, and yet it will somehow cause me more grief than the all the other problems combined.”
She frowned as she processed what I’d told her. “Well, what about me? You didn’t say one word about me other than having to come back and board up my house and find some place to put me where I can’t escape. Are you even going to come visit me in the home?”
“Mother Dearest, in case you haven’t noticed, this is all about you.”
She puckered her lips and stuck out her chin again, somehow looking relieved and annoyed all at the same time. “So you’re coming back here then?”
“Afraid so.”
“When?”
“A week.”
“A week! They’ll have put me in the home by then!”
“You’ll be in rehab, and quite well taken care of, which is why I’m going now. It’s when you get out of rehab that really concerns me.”
She stuck her nose higher in the air. “Well, don’t you be worrying about that. I can take care of myself.”
“Uh huh.”
“Don’t you be talking down to me, Missy. That’s what all you young people do, just let us seniors show the least little bit of weakness, and then you start treating us like senile invalids who can’t do a thing for ourselves. Well, I won’t have it! My leg might be hurt but my mind is working just fine.” She scowled at me to see if I was going to challenge her statement. “That’s right. I can take care of myself as well as I ever could. I’m the mother here and you won’t be treating me like a child.”
I walked over to the bed, leaned down and kissed her on the forehead then squeezed her hand. “I’ll be back before you know it. I love you, Mother. Behave.”
“Don’t you be telling me to behave. I am not a child!”
She was still scowling and grumbling as I walked out the door, but I considered it a good thing. Our relationship hadn’t changed one bit, which was not necessarily a good thing, but it was the best thing at the moment. I couldn’t say that I’d really dealt with much of the emotional aspects of what I’d learned because I was busy with the very real world details of it all.
My whole life people had always commented on how much I looked like Lucille. Until now, it had just been annoying. Now, it made me curious. Glenda must have had similar features, because I
didn’t look anything at all like Bob Little. I supposed I’d find out about all of that soon enough, not that it really mattered. Right now, all that mattered was that the people I loved most in the world were okay. Really okay.
Jerry met me in the hall as I walked out of the room. “You’re not even gone and I already miss you.”
“Me, too,” I said, smiling up at him. “I’ve been spoiled, having you around like this.”
He put his arm on my shoulder and covertly ran his fingers up my neck. “Don’t forget me.”
Tingling heat flashed through me and I sucked in my breath and gritted my teeth.
He laughed then moved his hand down to hold mine.
I recapped my plans as we made our way out of the hospital. At the front entrance, a truck with yellow lights across the cab made me think of Gilbert Moore. I’d checked on him earlier and learned that he’d made it through surgery and was going to be just fine. I wondered if the woman I’d called had come to be with him. She’d sounded genuinely concerned so I figured she had. But she’d also sounded afraid, and not just for him, but for herself. She had reason to be. By his own admission, he’d hurt her before. And she obviously knew that if she let him, he could do it again.
I understood it only too well. My own fear of being hurt again had caused me to put up walls with everyone, even Jerry. I’d loved him for most of my life in some capacity, and yet I’d held back. Now, however, I was beginning to feel safe enough emotionally to maybe start thinking about possibly letting down my walls just a little. I hoped Gilbert’s brush with death would change him for the better, would help him recognize and fix whatever was keeping him from really loving and trusting someone. I hoped my own journey had gotten me to the place where I could do the same.
At the car, Jerry opened my door and I climbed in. He didn’t shut the door, however.
“Fear makes people do stupid things,” he said, as if he’d been reading my mind. “We both did stupid things when we were kids, Jo, and we can’t go back and undo those.”
“No, we can’t.”
“But we can do things differently now.” He leaned in the car and put his hand on my cheek. “I can’t promise you there won’t be problems. In fact, I promise you there will,” he said, his eyes soft and his voice a deep rumble. “But I also promise you that I love you and that you can trust me.”
My heart seemed to burst open and tears pooled in my eyes. I reached up and squeezed his hand with both of mine then pulled it against my chest. “I know that, Jerry. I really do.”
He brushed his lips against mine. “Then marry me.”
TO BE CONTINUED
in the Fourth Jolene Jackson Mystery
Killer Moves
Table of Contents
cover
title
copyright
00
01
02
03
04
05
06
07
08
09
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
Table of Contents
cover
title
copyright
00
01
02
03
04
05
06
07
08
09
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31