“Just leave me alone.” Margaret blocked her hands.
“Do you have a death wish?” Adrian shook the plastic tubing at her.
“I’m dying anyway. What’s the point?”
“You’ll be more comfortable.” Adrian attempted to loop the cannula around her mother.
“I don’t care.” She pushed her hands away.
“Stop it.”
“No, you stop.” Margaret pushed Adrian back with unexpected force, and she stumbled back, knocking over the picture of her parents before bracing herself against the wall. The frame shattered, glass spilling out in shards.
“What the hell?”
“Don’t you talk to your mother that way.”
“You’re my mother? You could have fooled me. You’re acting like a defiant brat!”
“Oh, please.”
“Why won’t you just wear your oxygen?”
“Because I don’t want everyone to treat me differently!” Her outburst caught them both off-guard.
“What are you talking about?”
“I see the looks people give when they see old people in wheelchairs or wearing oxygen. I don’t belong there. I don’t need people taking pity on me.”
Despite the tough words, Adrian saw fear in her mother’s eyes. She may be sick, and she may be dying, but her mother’s ego was very much still alive. She wasn’t ready to let her dignity shatter, even if it meant being uncomfortable.
“They won’t.”
“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes.
“So, it’s more important to you what other people think over being comfortable?” Adrian shook her head in disbelief. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Maybe to you it doesn’t.”
“What about what Harold thinks? Or Bev and Gilda? Or me?” Adrian paused for response. “Do none of us matter?”
“Pick up my picture.”
“Don’t dodge my question.” Adrian placed the frame back on the bedside table. She felt tempted to use the oxygen herself, Margaret’s stubbornness suffocating her. But she saw her mother’s wheels turning as she calculated her response.
“If I agree to wear the oxygen around the house, will that appease you?”
“For now.” Adrian looped the cannula around Margaret’s head, placing it near her nose.
“That’s all I’m agreeing to, just so we’re clear.”
“Okay, we’ll see. Just get some rest.” Adrian brushed hair off her mother’s forehead, leaning down to kiss her third eye. She felt relieved, seeing her breathing more easily. “I’ll check on you later.” She turned off the bedside lamp and turned to look back from the doorway. Margaret looked peaceful, her eyes closed and already drifting toward sleep. Adrian couldn’t believe she’d won a battle with her mother, but she knew the war was far from over.
18
Adrian closed the bedroom door softly behind her, leaving Margaret to nap. She still couldn’t believe her mother had hidden the oxygen. What else could she be keeping secret? Adrian didn’t understand why her mother wouldn’t want to use something if it made her feel better. But one thing she’d learned about her mother over the years was she often behaved irrationally, especially when it came to her appearance and what others might think. Margaret held herself together no matter what. Even in the face of death, she insisted on putting on her makeup, keeping up appearances while her body betrayed her. God forbid she take her last breath sans mascara.
Adrian seized the opportunity to call Laura and sneak a cigarette. She needed her best friend to help her make sense of everything. Before she could dial the number, her phone rang. Christian’s number popped up on her caller ID. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, as good as it can be, I guess.” Adrian rubbed her forehead. “How’d you know?”
“Aunt Bev told me what happened.”
“Oh.” Harold must have told the girls. Silence hung between them for a few moments.
“What can I do to help?”
“I’m not sure.” What was Adrian doing? If the last few hours told her anything, there was no way she could consider getting romantically involved with someone right then. Maybe she needed to make a clean break. The timing was all wrong.
“Adrian?”
She sighed. “Actually, can we push pause on whatever this is for a little while? I really need to give my full attention to my mom right now.”
“Yeah…sure.”
A pit formed in Adrian’s stomach. She really didn’t want to do it, but she also didn’t see any other choice. “I’ll call you soon, okay? Promise.” She hung up and stared at the black screen. Was pushing him away really the right thing to do? She’d had such a good time on their date, and things felt so natural with him. She hadn’t experienced a connection quite like that before, not even with Brad. He seemed very understanding and patient, so why couldn’t they take things at a snail’s pace?
But if she’d learned anything in the last twelve hours, it was that life was fragile, and her mother’s time was running out. She wanted to make the most of what little time remained and dating Christian would interfere with that. She’d never forgive herself if she missed seeing her mother take her last breath, out having the time of her life with Christian while her mother’s ended. Her mother needed her, and she knew deep down she needed her too.
Before stewing any longer, she dialed Laura’s number. As it rang, she lit a cigarette pursed between her lips. She thought about her mother struggling to breathe, and it made her lose the desire to smoke. She threw the cigarette away as Laura answered. “Hey girl! How was your date?”
“Well, our date was great,” she said, guilt punching her in the gut. “But I just brought my mother home from the hospital.”
“What happened?”
Adrian told her all the details, from finding Margaret on the couch choking to rushing her to the hospital.
“Wow, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.” She choked up.
“How long does she have?”
“No clue. She told me to come get her from her room, and we left before we saw the doctor.”
“She literally walked out? Is that even possible?”
“Apparently, it is. She’d been waiting for a long time to be seen, and she said she was tired of waiting. She didn’t want to wait to hear what she already knew, and I guess they were slammed with other patients. You know how she can be.”
“Weird.” Silence hung heavy between them. “Are you okay?”
Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. “Not really.”
“Do you want me to come? I’ll jump in the car, or fly, or—”
“No, it’s okay. I need you to sell my house,” Adrian said. “Speaking of that, any progress there?”
“Actually, I was going to call you about that.” Her voice sank. “Title notified me someone recently filed a lis pendens against the house.”
“What does that mean?”
“Basically, someone filed this encumbrance to establish their interest in the property. Know anyone who would do that?” she asked, her tone one of knowing.
“It has to be Celeste.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking too, so you might want to tell your new lawyer about this.”
Adrian shrugged. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll get through this.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“And speaking of lawyers, what’s up with you and Christian?”
“Nothing,” Adrian replied. “I told him now isn’t a good time with everything going on with my mom and now this lis-whatever you called it.”
Laura paused. “You know it’s okay to be happy, right?”
“I know.”
“You just have to give yourself permission. It doesn’t make you a bad daughter or widow or whatever your mind is thinking.”
“But what about this paternity thing? How would it look if I were gallivanting around town with a new boyfriend when the
dirt has barely settled on Brad’s grave?”
“Who’s looking? I guarantee no one will care as much as you think they will.”
Adrian considered her words. “Maybe you’re right.”
“You know I am.”
“Maybe.” Adrian smiled.
Laura chuckled. “Let me know what Brian says about the encumbrance.”
“I will. Love you.”
“Love you more.”
Adrian waited in the lobby for her new lawyer, Brian, to wrap up his other meeting. Her mind cycled through thoughts of her mother, Christian, and Brad’s love child, too powerful to attempt any distraction tactics. Did Celeste really file the encumbrance? What recourse did Adrian have? What would Celeste be entitled to if, in fact, that was Brad’s baby she carried? She was so close to finally living out her dream of being an artist, and the thought of having it ripped away made her nauseous.
On the plus side, at least Margaret was living up to her promise, wearing her oxygen around the house. She still refused to wear it in public, and there was a big difference in her energy when she didn’t use it. Margaret must have felt a difference, since she started wearing the oxygen without a reminder. Maybe she’d cave and start wearing it full-time, strangers’ odd looks and opinions be damned. One day at a time.
Adrian crossed her legs and pulled a floral wrap dress over her knee, wedge heel dangling as she fidgeted. She wanted to look nice for a probable run-in with Christian, but a sleeveless dress was a bad choice given it was winter inside the office. She teetered back and forth on changing her mind, feeling stupid for pumping the brakes so soon. But with everything going on, it just wasn’t the right time. She needed to put her attention on her mother and figuring out the next move with Celeste.
“Brian will see you now,” the receptionist said. They walked past Christian’s office and she peered in, hoping to see him. Her heart sank a little when his office was empty. Maybe she’d catch him on the way out.
The receptionist held the door open to Brian’s office, and Adrian noticed it was more traditional than Christian’s. His grand cherry wood desk and hefty leather chairs made the space feel small, reminding her of an old smoking room where gentlemen retire after dinner.
Brian stood to shake her hand, his big meaty claws nearly crushing her bony fingers. His steel blue eyes were surprisingly warm but had an edge to them. He was broad and tall, with sandy blond hair perfectly parted to the side and a meticulously manicured beard. He appeared to be in his mid-50s, affirmed by a picture of his family hanging prominently on the wall, which included a beautiful wife, three sons and their wives, and five grandchildren. They exchanged pleasantries, and he wasted no time diving in. “You were right, I did find out it was Celeste Robinson who filed the lis pendens on your house.” He leafed through paper in a manila folder. “Have you gone through probate yet?”
Adrian shook her head.
“I was afraid of that.” He grimaced. “Were you planning on it?”
“I didn’t see the need, given the fact that we shared everything.”
“Well, I’m afraid you no longer have a choice. She’s forcing your hand, so to speak.”
“So, what are my options?” Adrian shifted in her seat.
“First things first. In order for her to file this lis pendens, she needs to have proof of her supposed interest. I’ve requested this proof be provided so we can evaluate it.”
“What kind of proof? Like the baby?”
“No, not quite. Since the baby isn’t born yet, she needs to provide other proof, like text messages, emails, that sort of thing, to show enough proof that the child is his…allegedly.”
Adrian’s body shook as adrenaline coursed through her veins. She didn’t want to see proof like that in black and white. A baby was already a lot to handle but seeing the exchange of printed words between Brad and another woman made Adrian feel sick. She didn’t want to re-open old wounds, the scabs having just fallen off on her path to healing. “Will I have to read it?”
“No, I guess not. But I will, since that’s my job.” He forced a smile.
“And what if signs point to her child being his?”
“We won’t know anything for certain until we do the paternity test. But if we discover the child is his when all is said and done, Celeste and the baby would be entitled to a portion of Brad’s estate, which would be determined through probate.”
“How large of a percentage are we talking about?” Adrian braced herself for the worst.
“It would most likely be a third but could be more or less, depending on probate.”
A third? “How long does probate usually take?”
He grimaced. “It could take up to a year in a case like this.”
A year? She felt sucker punched, staring blankly at his desk as words escaped her.
He closed the file and plopped his meaty hand on top of hers. “I know this is tough, but the silver lining is that we still don’t have the paternity test results. Anything could happen.”
“She seemed pretty convinced it’s Brad’s child she’s carrying.” Adrian pulled away and crossed her arms. “She’s probably telling the truth.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Haven’t you ever watched daytime TV?”
She laughed. “You and Christian are definitely partners.” He gave her a confused look. “He said the exact same thing to me.”
“What can I say?” He shrugged. “Great minds, I suppose.”
She nodded, thinking of Christian.
“Hang in there, kiddo. I’ll do everything I can to find out the truth and come to amenable terms.”
“I certainly hope so.”
Reeling after her meeting with Brian, Adrian stopped by Christian’s office. She needed to see a friendly face after the news she’d heard, and her heart sank when his office still stood empty. She thought about how safe she felt in his arms the other night, and she wanted to feel something, anything, other than the dread sitting in her stomach from her meeting.
“Where’s Christian?” she asked the receptionist.
“Right here.” She turned around to see him, and her heart caught in her throat. His charcoal gray wool suit was perfectly tailored to his muscular body, the smell of his cologne intoxicating. He’d opted for no tie, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned just enough to see the top of his smooth chest. His hazel eyes locked on hers, and he swallowed hard. Seeing him sparked an urge within her, and she couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Can I see you in your office, please?” She tried her best to conceal her sudden desire. He guided her into the office, his touch on her back lighting her skin on fire. He closed the door behind them.
“Is everything o—”
She pressed her lips against his. Surprise wore off quickly, and his mouth met hers with the same passionate intensity. His hands rose to frame her face as their tongues slow danced together. Her hands roamed over his shoulders and chest until she found the row of buttons on the shirt concealing his flesh. She made quick work of them, and his hands lowered to her waist, grazing her butt as he pulled her dress over her head.
He looked down at her with lust in his eyes. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured, and she smiled as her mouth met his again.
She gripped his biceps as he carried her over to the desk, her legs naturally wrapping around his waist. He cleared a space for them and gently laid her down. She reached to unbutton his pants, freeing his desire. He slid her panties to the side and they quickly became one, parts of her buzzing with life after being dormant for so long.
Merging with Christian was spiritual, carnal, and everything she needed to feel. He somehow knew her body so well, like they had been lovers for years. He stifled their moans by kissing her as they reached their peaks together. They slowly descended the mountain of lust they had climbed together, neither one of them wanting to break the physical connection.
“That was…wow,” he said, catching his breath.
All she could muster in return was
a very descriptive, intelligent yeah in agreement. He buried his head against her shoulder, nuzzling her neck. His light kisses sent ripples of pleasure throughout her body in perfect sync with the aftershock of her climax.
They reluctantly helped each other put themselves back together. As she helped him button his last button, he pulled her in and pressed his lips to hers. She wanted nothing more than to stay like that, in his arms, feeling intoxicated with every kiss.
He pulled away and looked at his watch. “I’d love to keep doing this, but I have an appointment in a few minutes. Call you later?”
She nodded. “Okay.” He kissed her softly on the forehead. She adjusted the hem of her dress before he opened his office door. They said goodbye, and she had to avoid eye contact with anyone, afraid her face would give away the nature of their meeting.
On the drive home, she couldn’t erase the smile from her face. Christian made her feel different, more alive somehow, than she’d felt in years. The euphoria of their merging sent aftershock waves through her body. She could get used to that. Despite bad timing, she couldn’t imagine not seeing where things could go. What they had was special, worth exploring again and again.
I hope he feels the same way.
When she arrived at her mother’s house, it was eerily quiet, and Margaret’s door was shut. Maybe she’d decided to take a nap. Everything was taking more of a toll on her body these days. Adrian quietly thanked God for helping her avoid an awkward post-coital conversation with her mother.
She went to the kitchen for a glass of water, skipping the ice in fear of waking Margaret. She gulped, replaying Christian’s tenderness over in her mind. He had become a wonderful surprise in so many ways in the last few weeks, and regardless of whatever happened next, she’d—
“I’ll be right back, my sweet,” a man’s voice said, shutting a door behind him. Adrian’s eyes grew wide with panic, and she felt frozen in place as Harold rounded the corner and shrieked. He stood paralyzed in the doorway, which perfectly framed him in her mother’s pink bathrobe, overflowing with a forest of salt and pepper chest hair. “What are you doing here?”
Unfinished Business Page 13