by Lisa Jordan
“I just don’t get it, Mom.” Lindsey struggled to keep her voice calm as she straightened the requested wedding ring quilt over Mom’s feet, being careful not to nudge her right leg. She smoothed out a few stray wrinkles and sat on the edge of the hospital bed. “We talk on the phone daily. Sometime in the past six months, you couldn’t have told me you had met someone?”
After Stephen left, Lindsey dressed and packed a bag for Mom. She arrived at the hospital about an hour ago, interrupting Mom’s breakfast. Lindsey placed the bag in the narrow closet next to the private bathroom and planned to have a quiet visit.
Then she saw the flowers.
Plump roses in autumn hues from the palest peach to the deepest orange arranged in an amber sweetheart vase greeted her from the table next to Mom’s bed. The wording on the card shot Lindsey’s intent for a quiet visit out the window.
Get well soon, my love!
Yours, Max
And Lindsey couldn’t let it go. Couldn’t keep her big mouth shut.
A girl had a right to express her displeasure, didn’t she? But did it have to be while her mother recovered from surgery, for crying out loud? Even though her head told her to shut up, she couldn’t stop the words from tumbling over her lips.
Mom squirmed against the pillow and struggled to sit up. Her hospital gown snapped open at the shoulder and exposed smooth skin with a splatter of freckles. “It’s complicated. I didn’t know how you’d react.”
Lindsey reached over and snapped the gown. “Did you expect me to freak out? Or did you think by not telling me, you wouldn’t have to deal with it?”
She stood, putting too much pressure on the ball of her right foot. Pain pinched her foot. She winced, limped to the blue upholstered chair and pulled it closer to the bed, being careful not to hit the IV pole or the machine that dosed out Mom’s medicine. She kicked off her flip-flops—the only things that didn’t rub against her sore feet—and curled her toes around the cool metal bed frame.
“Why are you limping?”
“I dropped a coffee mug this morning and stepped on a piece of glass. It’s nothing.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I didn’t know how you’d take it. What more do you want me to say? Grab my ice water, would you, honey?” Mom licked her lips and scowled.
Lindsey wrapped her fingers around the handle of the plastic insulated mug with the hospital logo on the side, still keeping the sarcasm and snark tucked away in her back pocket. A perfectly civil conversation. “Maybe if I had a heads-up about this, time to get used to the idea of my mom having a boyfriend, I wouldn’t have freaked out on you. Why hide your relationship? When were you going to tell me? When he proposed?”
Mom circled the yellowing bruise around the IV needle in her hand. A light shade of pink dusted her cheeks.
An icy fist gripped Lindsey’s heart and twisted. She clenched the mug until her knuckles whitened. “Mom—has Max proposed to you?”
Her mother glanced at her and then moved to trace the hand stitching in the quilt. “What? No, honey.”
She thrust the mug at her mother. “Have you talked about marriage?”
Mom took it but didn’t drink. “Talking and proposing are two different things.”
“Are you kidding me? You’ve met someone who could possibly take Dad’s place and you don’t tell me? That’s so not fair.”
Mom smacked the mug on the tray table. Water sloshed over the rim. “That, young lady, is probably the reason I didn’t tell you. No one will ever take your father’s place. Not in your eyes. Nor in mine.” She lowered her voice, but not before Lindsey caught the shimmer in her eyes. “He was one in a million. My best friend. My everything. But he’s never coming back, Linds. He’s gone. And I can’t stop living because he died. I’m lonely. That big old house, so full of memories. And no one to share them with. Do you know what that’s like?”
Lindsey pulled out tissues from the box on the table. She handed one to her mother and used another to clean up the spilled water, hating the way her fingers shook. “Considering I lost my father and my fiancé less than three months apart and moved away from everything I knew, yeah, I think I have a clue.”
“Of course you do. I’m so sorry. Blame it on the drugs. I’m not thinking straight.”
Lindsey tossed the soggy tissues in the trash and dug her nails into the palms of her hands. “I was blindsided, Mom. After stressing about you and dealing with Stephen, Aunt Claire’s slip about Max was the cherry on top of a cruddy day.”
“Wait a minute, what happened with Stephen? You saw him?”
Lindsey sat on the edge of the bed and recounted her multiple run-ins with Stephen.
Mom pulled her into a hug. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.
She leaned against Mom’s chest, careful not to dislodge the IV, and shrugged. “It was bound to happen sooner or later.”
“No doubt since our families are so close. This probably isn’t the right time or place, but I saw Dr. Geis this morning. I need to ask you something, Lindsey. Something you’re not going to like.” Mom trailed her fingers through Lindsey’s hair.
Lindsey braced herself. She knew what Mom was going to ask, but needed to hear it from her lips. Needed those precious few minutes to form an answer.
“He’ll release me in the morning as long as I have around-the-clock care. I know you have the inn to run, but could you…I mean…would you consider staying in Shelby Lake for the next six weeks? It may be sooner, depending on how quickly I can get back on my feet. I’ve already spoken to Jennie, my principal. I won’t be able to go back to teaching for at least eight weeks. If you can’t do it, I understand. I know how hard being in Shelby Lake is for you. I suppose I could ask Mom, but she has the farm. Claire has the shop to run. She couldn’t help me in and out of the tub. And, well, Max has his family to care for. He cares for his elderly father and gives his daughter a hand with his granddaughter. Plus, he can’t help with the tub, either. Say something. Please.”
Lindsey eased off the bed and walked to the window.
Six weeks.
Forty-two days in Shelby Lake. At least. Where memories scattered like leaves in the wind. During her busiest season. Maple Valley’s autumn festival was coming up in a couple of weeks. The inn was chosen as one of the stops on the historical walking tour, given its history when the area was brimming with oil and old money. Tourists visited the area when the leaves were at their peak of color. Every room would be booked.
“Well, if you need to think about it, I guess that’s my answer.” Her mother’s voice snapped through her thoughts.
Lindsey turned away from the window. “What? No, Mom. I mean, yeah, I’m thinking about it, but I’m here for you. Whatever you need. I promise. Would you consider recuperating at the inn? I could be with you around the clock and still run the inn.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I’m tired. This place is crazy. I appreciate the offer, honey, but I think it would be easier to recover at home. My doctor is here. I’ve already met the physical therapist. As selfish as it sounds, I want my own space. But don’t you worry, I’ll hire a nurse or something.”
A flock of geese soared past the window in a V-shaped formation. Freedom. Those geese stayed together. They helped and protected each other.
With only Rita, Paul and Amanda to take care of things at the inn, she’d have to hire extra help. Keep in touch daily by phone and email. But she had no choice. Mom needed her. “I’ll be here for you, Mom. I promise. I just need to make some calls.”
“There’s one more thing.” Mom dropped her gaze to study her ringless left hand.
After the past thirty-six hours, Lindsey didn’t think she could handle one more thing. She bit back a sigh and returned to the bed. Mom needed to be treated with patience, not like an annoyance. She fingered the cuff of her sweater. “What’s that?”
“You always do that when you’re uncomfortable.”
“Do what?”
“Play with the cuffs o
f whatever blouse or sweater you’re wearing. You’ve done it since you picked out your own clothes.”
Lindsey pulled her hands away and folded them in her lap. “What’s the one more thing, Mom?”
“I met someone.”
The three little words slipped out as a whisper, but the excited tone of her mother’s voice sent a ripple through Lindsey. Change was happening. She could get on board or dig in her heels and fight it every step of the way. The choice was hers.
“I prayed, Linds. Daily. To be sure Max was God’s answer to my prayers. To allow me to enjoy life again. He will never take your dad’s place. We’ve talked about it. But my heart is big enough to love another man. And I do love him. Because you’re going to be home, you’ll be seeing a lot of Max.”
Lindsey wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. The sound that burst between her lips was a mixture of both. She cleared her throat. “Listen, Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to pick a fight with you. I wasn’t even going to mention Max until you were home and settled. But I walked in here, saw the roses and I went off. Who you see is none of my business. And if—if he makes you happy—well, then I’m happy for you.”
“I know it makes me very happy.” An unfamiliar male voice spoke from the doorway.
Lindsey stiffened. The man standing in the doorway was the same one she saw talking with her grandparents yesterday.
“Max.” Mom held out a hand. “Come in and meet my Lindsey.”
Lindsey pulled her lips into some semblance of a smile. She could do this.
Max strode into the room, his long legs eating up the distance from the door to the bed with minimal steps. Dressed in loose-fitting khakis and a brown V-neck sweater with sleeves pushed up to the elbows, he looked like a confident man comfortable in his own skin. He smiled and nodded at Lindsey, but his attention quickly shifted to her mother. Stopping on the other side of the bed, he brushed a kiss across her mother’s forehead. “How are you feeling, Gracie?”
Her mother covered Max’s hand with her own. Her features softened and her eyes brightened. “Tired, cranky, ready to go home.”
“Patience, bella.” A grin revealed white, even teeth. Max’s eyes crinkled in the corners, as if laughing was something he did often.
Lindsey turned away, suddenly fascinated by the blue-and-yellow-striped wallpaper. Her mother hadn’t looked at anyone like that since her father was alive. And, well, it was a bit unnerving. Change was definitely in the air.
Mom took Lindsey’s hand and squeezed lightly, almost as if she were begging her to play nice. Lindsey squeezed back letting her know she understood.
“Lindsey, this is Max, my…friend. Max, this is my daughter, Lindsey.”
Max extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Lindsey. Your mother’s face glows when she talks about you.”
Lindsey released her mother’s hand and took his, noting the warmth and firmness of his handshake. “Thank you. I really wish I could say the same thing, but until yesterday, I didn’t know you existed.”
“Lindsey.”
The tips of Max’s ears reddened. Good. She shouldn’t be the only one able to see the elephant in the room.
Max patted her mother’s hand. “No, Grace, it’s fine. She has a right to be upset. My daughter would have reacted the same way if I had hidden you from her.” He looked at Lindsey with warm hazel eyes. “We were wrong to keep this from you, Lindsey. And for that, I’m sorry. I do hope to get to know you better. I like to believe we have a lot in common, judging by what your mother has said.”
A nurse entered the room, pushing a wheelchair. Her shoes squeaked against the polished tile floor. She smiled at them. “Good morning, Grace. I’m Susan, the day nurse. Nice to see you up and visiting with company.”
She checked Mom’s vitals, scribbled on her notepad and then turned to Max and Lindsey. “Would you two mind stepping out in the hall for a few minutes to give Mrs. Porter some privacy while I help tend to her needs?”
“No problem.” Lindsey dropped a kiss on Mom’s forehead and then headed for the hall. She sidestepped an orderly mopping a section of the floor and sat on the bench outside Mom’s room.
“May I join you?” Max nodded toward the empty spot next to her.
Lindsey tightened her hold on her purse handle. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.”
“So, Lindsey, your mom tells me you own a bed-and-breakfast in Maple Valley. Beautiful area down there.”
“Yes, it is. Quiet, close enough to the city, yet far enough away to be secluded from the traffic and busyness.”
The bench creaked as he shifted in his seat. Max leaned forward, elbows on knees, and clasped his hands. “Listen, we can make polite small talk, but we’re both adults. Let’s cut to the chase here. I’m really sorry you found out the way you did about our relationship, but I promise I will never do anything to hurt your mother. I love her.”
Lindsey dug through her purse for her lip balm, a tissue, anything to give her head a couple of seconds to form some kind of response. She hadn’t expected a candid discussion this soon, but her initial impression of Max was he didn’t beat around the bush.
She uncapped her wild-berry lip balm and smoothed it across her lips. “I appreciate that, Max. I really do. These past five years haven’t been easy on Mom. I just wish I had known about you two sooner. Had time to get used to the idea. To get to know you better. I don’t even know your last name.” She capped her lip balm and tossed it in her purse.
“Peretti. My parents emigrated from Italy to the U.S. before I was born. I’m fifty-five years old, been divorced for twenty-five years when my wife decided marriage and a child weren’t her cup of tea. My family moved to Shelby Lake a few years ago. I’ve raised my daughter on my own, so I completely understand your protective streak toward your mother.”
“It shows, huh?”
“As bright as a lighthouse beacon. And I admire you for it. Your mom is a special lady.”
“Yes, she is. Tell me about your family.”
“My father lives with us. My daughter, Josephina—Josie to her friends—is about your age. She has a daughter named Hannah who is very special and finds joy in the little things in life. Josie owns Cuppa Josie’s in town. I’d like you to meet her. I think the two of you will have much in common.”
“How does she feel about my mom? Your relationship with my mom?”
“They get along well, but Josie isn’t trying to take your place with your mother. I don’t think that’s even possible. You are the light of your mother’s life. Josie hasn’t had much of a woman’s touch since her mom left. My mamma helped care for Josie, but she passed away when Josie was a teenager. It was hard on her, on both of us. So, I understand the pain of losing a parent. Doesn’t get easier as you get older, either.” Max reached over and patted Lindsey’s knee. “I’m not trying to take your dad’s place, Lindsey. I understand your mother comes with a history. We all do. If you let me, I’d like to be your friend.”
A lump formed in her throat. From the time she heard about her mother and Max, she wanted to hate him, resent him for trying to step into her dad’s size-twelve shoes. But now she could see why her mom fell for this guy. Beneath the silver hair, warm eyes and confidence, he seemed as caring and compassionate about family as her mother. They had a lot in common. Maybe he could make her mom happy.
Sweat stung Stephen’s eyes. He shut off the edge trimmer and pulled off his sunglasses. He dragged the back of his gloved hand across his forehead. The day had turned out to be warmer than he expected. His flannel shirt lay in a discarded plaid heap on the freshly mowed grass. His T-shirt was pasted to his skin.
Good thing he ran into Graham Matthews at the hardware store. Lindsey’s granddad mentioned the roof damage on Grace’s house. Stephen made a couple of calls and managed to round up a few of the off-duty guys from the department to lend a hand with the roof. Once they patched the roof, they mowed the yard and pruned the shrubs. They took
care of their own.
Especially now that they had found Earle.
When Ramirez’s cousin showed that picture and Stephen realized he was looking at his friend’s killer, he wanted to hunt the murderer down and rip him apart with his bare hands, slowly and painfully. As a sworn police officer, he had to follow the same laws as everyone else. Not to mention department procedures and respect other jurisdictions, no matter how much it killed him. Set the example. Uphold the honor he strived to maintain.
But if he did find Earle, helped bring him in, maybe, just maybe that would help bridge the gap between him and Lindsey. Redeem himself in her eyes. His promises would mean something again. He wanted to tell her about the lead, give her something to cling to, but he couldn’t give her false hope. He’d wait until the time was right. When his promise to catch her father’s killer rang true.
He hadn’t seen Lindsey since they arrived about two hours ago. Did she even know they were there? Would she think he was overstepping his bounds?
As if she could read his thoughts, the patio door slid open. Lindsey stepped barefoot onto the cement carrying a tray with a pitcher and glasses. She tried to balance the tray to close the door. Was she crazy? She shouldn’t be walking around without shoes.
He dropped the trimmer onto the shrubs he had been pruning and jogged over to her. He took the tray from her and set it on the wrought iron table. Grabbing one of the matching chairs, he motioned for her to sit. “You shouldn’t be walking on that cut foot. At least put on some shoes or something so it doesn’t get infected.”
“Thanks for your concern, but I’ll be fine. I figured you guys might be thirsty, so I made a pitcher of raspberry iced tea.” She grabbed one of the glasses, filled it with tea and then handed it to him. “How’s it going?”