“Carter.” Hands on hips, lips pursed, she was every bit a grandmother of eight. “If you really like her, you need to tell her.”
“No I don’t.” He rolled his eyes and reached for a bandage. “I’ve got enough people freaking out every time I come in for blood work. No thanks.”
Emily frowned. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
He hopped out of the chair and kissed her cheek. “You and I both know better than to think about that.”
“You’re perfectly healthy.”
“Yup, and I’m hoping you’re going to tell me that again when these results come in.”
“It’ll be longer than usual,” she said with a grunt. “All those wonderful upgrades they did to our system screwed it right up, so we have to do some of it old-school.”
“No problem.” He pulled on his jacket as he walked toward the door. “You’ll email me the results?”
“Sit down—you know you’re supposed to wait ten minutes—”
“Yeah, yeah.” Carter didn’t even slow down. “I’m fine. Thanks, Em!”
Last thing he heard was the old girl grunt and mutter something that sounded a lot like “Damned doctors.”
Chapter Seven
“Hey, Your Worship, I’m only trying to help.”
Han Solo, The Empire Strikes Back
Halfway through the parking lot, a text buzzed through Carter’s phone.
Julia’s coming over to spend the eve with me and my BF if you want to join us.
BF? He wasn’t up on all the texting acronyms, but that was one he knew. Holding his breath, his hit reply. BF??
Her answer came back almost instantly and made him snort out a laugh as he climbed into his car.
Han Solo. Who else?
Tell Jules I’ll pick her up in an hour.
Gray clouds hung thick and low, but the weatherman’s prediction of dry roads held true the whole ride home. Jules was curled up in her chair, a wad of tissues in one hand, an old tattered copy of what looked to be some kind of romance novel in the other.
“Come on.” He tugged the book from her hands, tossed it on the couch, and half dragged her to her feet.
“But I’m almost done!”
Ignoring her protest, he shoved her jacket into her hands and pushed her out to the car. Tired or not, he hadn’t seen Regan for almost forty-eight hours, and he wasn’t about to drag that out any longer just so Jules could finish a book she’d probably already read twice.
Regan was on the phone when they arrived, but she waved them in with a smile as she nodded against her phone.
“Six o’clock?”
Carter never took his eyes off her as she spoke. How could she look so good without even trying? From the crazy mess of her hair, all piled up on top of her head, to the way her legs looked about a mile long in those frayed jeans, to the way she chewed the corner of her bottom lip and blushed the second he walked in.
He took Jules’s jacket and draped it with his own over the back of the closest tub chair.
“No, it’s not a problem.” Regan smiled, reached into the fridge, and waved a couple bottles of beer at Carter. “Monday nights work better for me, anyway.”
Carter winked his thanks, twisted off the caps, and brought one out to Jules, who was standing in front of the bookcase, her head tipped to the right as she read the spines of the books.
“Right. Okay, I’ll see you then. Bye for now.”
Regan clicked the phone off, and set it on the table in the living rom. “Sorry, needed to catch up with Mrs. G.”
One look at Jules’s face, and Regan frowned. “What’s the matter?”
“She’s fine,” Carter snorted. “She was reading some sappy chick book before we left.”
Jules pulled Slightly Tempted off the shelf and held it up for Regan to see. “You read them, too?”
“Uh, yeah!” Regan laughed. “I’m reading Wulfric’s story right now on my e-reader.”
“Oh, Wulfric,” Jules sighed. “He was my favorite.”
Carter rolled his eyes and sighed. “I thought we were going to watch Star Wars.”
“Right,” Regan laughed. “I ordered some pizza, but I just need to run across the hall and feed Mrs. McLaren’s cat, so if the phone rings, can you grab it? The pizza guy only comes as far as the front door, so he calls when he gets here.”
“Sure.”
“I’ll come with you.” Jules slid the book back in its place and followed Regan out the door, leaving Carter alone.
He took a swig of beer and flopped down on the couch just as the phone rang. He probably should have checked the call display, but he assumed it was just the pizza guy.
“Hello? No, this is Regan’s phone…she, uh, just stepped out for a second, can I take a message?” This was no pizza place calling. “No I’m not robbing her! Who is this? Mrs. Burke?!…Oh, uh…hi.” He immediately sat up straight, scanning the apartment for what, he didn’t know. “Sorry, I didn’t…Carter, Carter Scott…I’m a friend of Regan’s…no, just friends…pardon?”
Carter pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it for a second. Did she really just call her own daughter a slut?
“Uh, no, ma’am, I don’t think she’s…because I think Regan’s great…no, she’s…we’re not…we work together is all.”
Not a total lie.
“I’m a pediatrician…That’s right…Uh, yeah, I…I guess most doctors do get paid well…I do all right…No, she hasn’t stolen any money!”
He let his spinning head fall back on the cushion, face to the ceiling, and pressed his fingers over his eyes. When Jayne said Regan’s mom wasn’t well, he’d assumed it was a physical illness. Obviously, that wasn’t the case.
“Sneaky? Regan? She’s never…who’s that?…Her dad? No, she’s never mentioned him…I don’t know…I’m sorry, I…her fault? How…she wouldn’t do that…no, I didn’t mean…it’s just…yes, I’m sure it was very hard on you. Probably her too.”
It felt like five hours passed before the door opened and Regan and Jules walked back in, laughing. One look at Carter, now standing in front of the couch with the phone still pressed to his ear, and Regan immediately stopped laughing.
“Look, uh, Mrs. Burke, Regan’s back. If you can hold on just a second…”
Regan all but wrenched the phone out of his hand, swallowed hard, and hurried across the apartment to her bedroom.
“Hi, Mom. Is everything okay? You sure?”
The door clicked closed behind her, leaving Carter and Jules alone.
“What was that all about?” Jules asked.
Carter forced himself to blink a couple times, then shrugged. “Just her mom.”
He moved back to the bookcase and stood staring at the spines, not seeing a single one, and not even a little bit sure how to handle this when Regan came out of her room. Jules was in the bathroom when Regan finally came out, her gaze focused on the floor, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“Wasn’t sure if you’d still be here or not after that.”
Something tugged inside Carter; something deep in his gut that opened into a giant empty cavern, but it wasn’t his emptiness he felt, it was hers. How the hell did that happen? After a second, he stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for her, and forced a small grin.
“I was halfway out the door,” he teased. “But then I remembered you mentioned something about pizza, and I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
It took a few seconds, but when Regan finally lifted her head, she wasn’t laughing. Hell, she wasn’t even smiling. “Things with Mom are…complicated.”
“Yeah, I got that.” He pulled open the fridge and popped the top off a beer, which she gratefully accepted. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” The word came out on a half snort, half sigh. “I’m fine. Really.”
Before Carter could call bullshit, Jules stepped out of the bathroom and the phone rang again—pizza guy this time, so he didn’t push. Instead, he sat out in t
he living room with her and Jules and played along like everything was great. It wasn’t easy, and the second the credits started rolling, he hustled Jules out to the car and drove straight back to their own apartment, where he let her out at the front door.
“I told Katie I’d swing by and check up on Sophia tonight,” he said. “Be back in a bit.”
Ten minutes later he was back at Regan’s door. He didn’t even hesitate, just gave a quick knock, then pushed it open and stepped inside.
She sat hunched on the couch, her fists pressed against her eyes, the phone clutched in one hand, a bunch of tissues in the other. In the half second it took for her to blink up at him, she camouflaged her helplessness with a lift of her chin and a smirk.
“I really need to start locking that door.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” The brighter she tried to smile, the deeper he frowned. “Mom never calls me, so I just had to call back to make sure everything was okay.”
“And?”
“It’s fine.”
“What did she say to you?”
“Nothing she hasn’t said before.” She stuffed the tissues in her pocket and moved toward the breakfast bar, obviously needing a little space. “Did you forget something? Where’s Julia?”
“I dropped her at home; told her I had to run over to Katie’s for a minute.”
Regan’s hand stilled against the counter. With her back to him, she inhaled slowly, squared her shoulders, and set the phone down.
“You didn’t have to come back. I’m fine.”
“Is she being treated?”
“Of course!” A sound came out of her that was probably supposed to be a chuckle, but came out more like a strained croak as she moved into the tiny kitchen and busied herself with wiping the already spotless counters.
“Maybe I can—”
“You can what?” Her voice was tight, stressed. “Make her better?”
“No.”
“Then what? There’s nothing you can do, Carter, it’s just the way it is, so thank you, but it’s better if I—”
Carter moved around the counter, blocking her inside the cramped kitchen. “How bad is it?”
“Carter…”
“Just tell me,” he said, knowing that his calm was only making her more agitated. “And don’t bullshit me.”
Eyes wide, she stared back at him, then around him as though trying to find a means of escape, but the only way out was up and over the breakfast bar.
“Tell me,” he repeated.
A battle seemed to be going on inside her, and Carter couldn’t do anything but watch. She chewed the inside of her lip and huffed out a harsh breath, but when he started to step toward her, she stopped him with a raised hand and a determined glare.
“It’s bad,” she finally managed. The ache that floated out on her sigh settled inside Carter, right down in that empty hole. “But the nurses at Hillcrest are amazing and they make sure she takes her meds, so for the most part…”
She trailed off with another long breath and a shrug.
“Hillcrest?” Carter whistled quietly. “I’ve heard good things about that place, but it can’t be cheap.”
“No, it’s sure as hell not.”
Duh—that’s why she wanted the job at the clinic so badly; that’s why if push came to shove, the job would come first.
“How long’s she been there?”
“Coming up on six years.” It was like she had to force each word from her tongue.
“I’m sorry, Regan. What can I do?”
“Nothing,” she said slowly. “She’s getting the best care possible, that’s all any of us can do for her.”
“That’s good,” he said. “But I meant what can I do for you?”
“Me?” She choked over a dry chuckle. “Nothing, but thank you. I’m used to it.”
A softness eased over her face for a second, but then she cleared her throat and shrugged it off.
“As a kid, I had no idea she was ill, she was just my mom and that’s how she was.”
“ ’Course. And your dad? How’d he deal with it?”
“Mostly he’d just yell at her to stop being stupid and to stop moping, but no matter how hard she tried to be ‘normal,’ it never lasted long…and she always seemed to get a little bit worse every time she tried.” There was an emptiness in her eyes, one that took her three long blinks to hide. “It was harder for him, I think, because he knew her before she got sick. And then after he left, she, uh…it wasn’t good. She’d get so angry, and then she’d freak out and do things like lock me in the closet and refuse to let me go to school because she thought I was—”
Another slow breath. “She thought I was having sex with my dad and my uncle.”
Carter swallowed a couple times, dreading his next question. “Did either of them ever try anything with you?”
“No.” Her mouth lifted, but it wasn’t even close to a smile. “I don’t have an uncle, and my dad was long gone by that time.”
“Oh.” Carter rubbed his palm over his mouth and huffed out a breath. “How long were they married before she started showing symptoms?”
“Couple years.” She could force that smile all she wanted, she wasn’t fooling either one of them. “Wasn’t until she got pregnant that things started going sideways.”
“Jeezus, Regan, you don’t think…” Everything her mother said played over and over in Carter’s mind. He closed his eyes and ground his teeth together. “It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, I know.” She waved her finger toward the opening he was blocking. “Can I get out now, please?”
He stepped back just enough that she could squeeze by, but she didn’t sit anywhere, she just paced.
“Regan, look at me.” When she didn’t do it right away, he said it again. A long sigh later, she finally turned and met his gaze. “It’s not your fault. I bet if they could go back and see how she was before, there’d be signs; small ones that might not have seemed like anything at the time, but there’d be signs. Or maybe a family history you don’t know about.”
She looked away again, shrugged, then clicked her tongue when he rounded the couch and stood in front of her.
“I might not know anything about your mom, or her clinical diagnosis, but I do know a few things about biology and chemistry, and it’s not unusual for them to hook up and cause a shit-storm inside a person every once in a while. It’s no one’s fault, it just happens.”
“I know, I’ve read all about it. But I’ve also read studies that show increased hormone levels during pregnancy can trigger different types of mental illness.”
“Wow,” he sighed. “Okay, sure, hormones might have triggered some of the symptoms, but you don’t know that for sure…”
He watched her stiffen in front of him, but he pushed on. For some reason, he needed to know this about her, needed to understand her.
“Do you see her very often?”
“No. She still thinks I’m having wild sex with my dad and that’s why he left her, so seeing me tends to set her off.” She gave him a go figure kind of look and chuckled sadly. “The last time I went—”
She stopped, sucked her lips back behind her teeth and sighed. “Last time, the things she said to me…they ended up having to sedate her.”
“Again, not your fault. It’s just the disease.”
“I know.” Arms wrapped around herself, she started pacing again, first to the window and back, then back and forth behind the couch.
Carter wasn’t stupid; knowing it and accepting it were two different things.
“How old were you when your old man took off?”
“Thirteen.”
“Shit, Red.” It was no wonder she avoided minivans and picket fences if this is what she’d grown up with. “And he left you to cope with her illness on your own? Did your mom ever hurt you?”
“Of course not!”
“Did she ever hurt herself?”
“Seriously, Carter?” He’d
heard plenty of chicks sigh before, but she huffed out enough air for all of them combined. “It’s been a long night and—”
“How many times?”
Seconds ticked by, but eventually she gave in and stopped gnawing on her bottom lip.
“Four.” Did she think it wouldn’t be true if she said it so quietly? “The first time was the night he left.”
“When was that?”
“Does it matter?” She turned so she was in profile to him, and gripped the back of the couch with both hands. No way. It couldn’t be, could it?
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I think it does.”
She blew out a breath, then inhaled again, slowly, as though she was trying to fortify herself against it.
“New Year’s Eve.” Her voice broke over the last word, but she turned her gaze back to him and forced a smile, sad as it was. “Always on New Year’s Eve.”
“Christ. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Same reason I don’t tell anyone; it’s none of your business.”
“Jayne must know…”
There it was again, that same guilty wince she had when he went to her salon. “She knows some, but I haven’t told her everything.”
Before Carter could say anything, she jabbed her finger into his chest and forced him to stumble back a few steps.
“It’s my business, not Jayne’s or anyone else’s. It’s bad enough you know.”
“Why? It’s nothing to be ashamed of; it’s a disease, just like—”
“Ashamed?” She jolted upright and stared back at him with huge eyes. “I’m not ashamed of her—I love my mom! But she is the way she is because of me, and you can argue about that all you like; it’s a truth I live with every day. Do you really think it’ll make Jayne, or anyone else, happy to know what that feels like? No. All that would happen is they’d feel awkward, and they wouldn’t know what to say or do, so they’d eventually just…”
Her eyes blinked too fast to count, but she didn’t have to finish; Carter knew what she was going to say. They’d eventually just leave.
Her words sat like bricks in his gut, one on top of the other, weighing him down. She might be wrong about causing her mom’s illness, but she was bang-on about people dealing with it. How many buddies had he lost the year he got sick?
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