He made it sound so simple. Except…
“But won’t everyone think I only got the job because I’m your girlfriend? Men don’t have to deal with the kind of social stigma that comes with that, but...”
“I know,” he sighed. “And I wish I could do more about that, but all we can really do is report any incidents of misbehavior or harassment and let HR handle it. I’d make sure they didn’t ignore issues like that.”
“But still…”
“Look, I think if there’s any backlash, it’ll be brief. And if someone says something around me, I know how to respond.”
“How?”
“I’d say that Rowan Pierce was a family man, even if he didn’t have a biological family. He gave me a chance because he loved me like a son and because he believed in me and my abilities. I was family to him. I want RPC to keep being the sort of company that gives good people a chance to grow and thrive. And it makes perfect sense to follow Rowan’s example in extending that opportunity to people I consider family.”
I was speechless. Stunned into silence. Eli thought of me as family? How? We’d only known each other a few weeks. Less than that, really, if you consider the number of real conversations we’d had. Holy shit. I wasn’t sure anyone had ever held me in that sort of esteem in my entire life. But Eli spoke the words as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“When did you come up with this brilliant plan?” I asked, still shocked. He gave me a smile that had my thighs clenching against his leather seat.
“Honestly? It’s been slowly coming together since not long after we met in that conference room.”
“Seriously?” No way. But he nodded.
“I looked you up the very next day.”
“When you tried to find me online?”
“Well… Yes, but there was more to it than that.” He looked a bit sheepish as he went on, “I got your employee file and résumé from the cleaning agency. But I still wanted to know more, so I asked Donovan about you.”
“Which is when he told you I deliver food to the shelter.”
“Yes. And I was worried, so I followed you.”
Well, fuck me. I wasn’t quite sure what to say to all of that. Should I be alarmed at his stalking behavior? I hadn’t forgotten that he’d shown up at my workplace unexpectedly. More than once. Having lunch there with a colleague and sitting in my section might be passable as coincidence, but his intervention with Brent certainly hadn’t been. And he’d followed me the night he’d discovered I was homeless too, as he’d just admitted.
We passed a road sign declaring Wauchula to be five miles ahead. I glanced back at Eli, and his expression was even more nervous now, as though he expected me to be angry. But what I was feeling was so far from anger it was laughable.
“Are you okay?” he asked uncertainly.
“Yes. Sorry, I just… So far as I know, no one has ever gone to so much trouble just to know me. Let alone be with me. It’s… humbling.” Yes, that seemed like a good word for it.
We smiled at each other, and it took me a moment to fully recognize the light, buoyant feeling in my chest for what it was. Eli Brighton made me happy. Giddy, even. But could I make him happy too? He seemed to think so.
I wasn’t sure I was ready to open the door to those thoughts at that moment, so I pushed them aside and focused on our surroundings. His navigation system was directing us to the nursing home, and when we reached the parking lot, I pointed out the correct entrance to park near.
As Eli turned off the car, I took a deep breath, trying to refocus my mind. I needed to be thinking about Mom now. We could talk about ‘us’ on the way back. He raised a hand to stroke the back of my head, playing lightly with my hair. I closed my eyes and allowed his touch to soothe me even as I marveled at its ability to do so. What was this man doing to me? After a moment I turned toward him and offered a smile, which he returned before giving me a slow, tender kiss.
“Ready when you are, Angel.”
Sixteen
Eli
If I’d been in awe of Charlotte before, it was nothing to how I felt after hearing her story. Her strength amazed me. She’d acted like crying over her mother was something to be embarrassed about, which revealed more about her than she probably realized. I’d guessed she was a proud person, but I hadn’t known the half of it.
In all my life, I’d only known one person as selfless as Charlotte, and that was my sister. Charlotte had sacrificed so much to take care of her mother. So many women her age would’ve been too confounded by the whole situation to manage it. Some would’ve been more concerned over what they were losing than what their family member needed. Others might have turned to more desperate measures to pay the bills. But not my angel. She hadn’t debased herself to make ends meet or allowed her mother to stay in a dangerous place. She worked her ass off day after day, allowing her own basic needs to go unmet so that she could ensure her mother was safe and cared for.
I’d never known anyone like her.
As we made our way through the facility, I winced a little in discomfort. I’d always hated the smell of hospitals and nursing homes. It seemed to be a universal scent that no air freshener could ever completely eradicate, a cocktail of sterilizing chemicals, bodily fluids, lavender, and age. I could never understand why people thought lavender covered unpleasant odors. It didn’t. If anything, the scent of it triggered something in my brain and reminded me of the very odors they were trying to overpower. Bleh.
Charlotte lead the way through a maze of corridors until we finally stopped at room 605. She knocked quietly and opened the door to reveal a thin, white-haired woman sitting in a wheelchair. Or strapped to a wheelchair, rather. Thick bands encircled her chest and waist, almost like seatbelts but with a different sort of buckle.
She wasn’t alone in the room. A man I assumed to be an orderly was in the process of changing the bed linens, and a nurse was checking the woman’s vitals with a gentle touch. The nurse smiled at us as we walked in, but the elderly looking woman continued to stare placidly out the window.
“What a wonderful surprise!” the nurse exclaimed, quickly turning back to her patient. “Your daughter’s here for a visit, Paula! Isn’t that great? And she’s got a very handsome man with her today. It’s about time, right?”
Charlotte and I chuckled, but Paula Douglas gave no response. The nurse was a young woman with a tawny complexion and a bright smile, and I could imagine how her upbeat personality would go a long way in a place like this. She scooted out of the way as Charlotte moved forward to hug her mother. The two younger women discussed Paula’s current state for a few minutes, and I noticed that the nurse made an effort to speak to her patient as much as to Charlotte, despite Paula’s lack of response.
Once the nurse and orderly left the room, Charlotte knelt in front of her mother’s wheelchair and watched her with a sad smile.
“Hey, Mom. I got the whole day off today. Can you believe it? I’m sorry I haven’t been able to visit lately. I’ve got lots of stories, though. The last few weeks have been crazy…”
I could hear the emotion in Charlotte’s voice as she tried to connect with her mother, and it felt like I was intruding on a private moment between them. I politely averted my eyes and gazed around the little room instead. While I’m not sure what I expected, I was surprised to see personal touches on almost every surface.
There were little knick knacks and decorations I assumed must have come from their home and a well-worn, handmade quilt on the bed. And dozens of pictures. They were in frames on the walls and propped on multiple surfaces, with more pinned to a large bulletin board near the bed. As I began to examine them more closely, I could see a chronicle of Charlotte’s life in the photos.
What appeared to be one of the oldest pictures showed a young woman with dark eyes and black hair. Her smile was radiant and her eyes full of joy as she smiled up at the camera and showed off the little pink bundle in her arms. Charlotte’s resemblance to her moth
er was remarkable. The Paula in the photo looked to be a bit older than Charlotte was now, perhaps around thirty or so. But the features were so similar they might have been mistaken for twins.
Charlotte’s life unfolded before my eyes in the series of photos that progressed gradually through her childhood and teenage years as I moved about the room. She’d beamed with pride in a Girl Scout uniform, waved eagerly from aboard a ride at Disney, and laughed merrily with a group of teenage girls in prom dresses. She’d posed with her mother at her high school graduation, then again at her UF freshman orientation. I would’ve had to be blind not to see the pure love and devotion Charlotte and her mother held for one another. It made me smile, but that smile faded a few degrees when I looked back at the pair of them sitting near the window.
The attractive, middle-aged woman who’d hugged her daughter proudly on her first day as a college student was gone, and in her place sat a pale, silver-haired waif with vacant eyes. I felt Charlotte’s loss like a punch to the gut, and in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to hold her and tell her everything would work out. I wanted to be the solution to her problems. To give her hope and keep her safe.
Charlotte glanced at me with a sad smile and waved me over. She was sitting on the edge of a chair she’d placed directly in front of Paula’s wheelchair, presumably in an effort to put herself in her mother’s line of sight. I walked over to perch on the arm of it and rubbed Charlotte’s back encouragingly.
“Mom, this is Eli Brighton. He’s my… boyfriend.”
She said the word cautiously, but it was enough to put the smile back on my face in full force. She hadn’t really given me a solid yes or no in the car, but if this was her way of saying yes, I’d take it. She was mine, and I wanted the world to know, starting with those who mattered most.
Of course, Paula remained unfazed by the word and didn’t look at me. Instead, she was staring at her daughter with an odd expression. Her eyes weren’t as empty as they’d been a few moments ago, but they weren’t precisely aware either. There was a hint of confusion and longing in her features, revealed by the light of something else I could decipher quite easily.
Love.
I understood now what Charlotte had meant when she’d said it felt like her mother was still in there somewhere, trying to reach the surface. Trying to come back to her daughter and to the world. I knelt down next to Charlotte’s chair and gently took Paula’s frail hand in mine.
“I’m honored to meet you, ma’am. I knew the woman who raised Charlotte must be amazing. You did a hell of a job.”
To my surprise, Paula’s chocolate brown eyes moved slowly to my face, and a faint but sweet smile appeared, more in her eyes than on her lips. The smile remained when she looked back at her daughter, and when Charlotte leaned forward to touch her face, Paula leaned into her palm.
“I miss you, Mama,” Charlotte whispered with hint of a sob. Fresh tears slipped from her eyes and over her cheeks. My own eyes widened as Paula opened her mouth and spoke very slowly.
“Don’t cry,” she slurred. Which of course only made Charlotte cry harder.
“I love you so much, Mom. So much.”
“Love too…”
Paula didn’t speak again, but her smile lingered for a little while. After a bit, I decided to excuse myself, telling Charlotte I’d give them some time alone and to call my cell if she needed me. She nodded and thanked me with a watery smile.
I left the room and ambled down the hallway, stopping at the first nurse’s station I found. The woman there, a different nurse than the one we’d met in Paula’s room, pointed me toward the director’s office. I hadn’t been sure anyone would be available to talk to me on a Saturday, but apparently someone was manning the boss’s office, because a secretary intercepted me from the desk parked just outside of it.
“Mr. MacDonald is very busy, but he may be able to speak to you shortly. Are you a family member of a current patient, or are you looking for a care solution for a loved one?”
“Uh… Neither.”
“Drug rep or job applicant?” she guessed, her eyes dubious as she scrutinized my casual attire.
“Relax, Dottie,” a man interrupted before I could answer. I glanced toward the voice and saw what I assumed to be the facility director standing in the doorway of his office. He was middle-aged with a polite smile and a receding hairline. “Come on in, Mr…?”
“Brighton. Thank you.” I followed him into his office, and he shook my hand once he’d closed the door behind us.
“Jim MacDonald. Nice to meet you. Sorry about Dottie out there. She takes the job a bit too seriously sometimes and ends up making people feel like they’re being interrogated,” he laughed. “Most issues can be delegated, but a lot of people prefer to go straight to the top, so to speak.”
I understood what he meant, from a management perspective. If he handled everyone’s problems personally, he’d never get any of his own work done. Sometimes that meant an assistant had to be a gatekeeper.
“No need to apologize. Thank you for seeing me.” We settled into chairs on opposite sides of his cluttered desk. “I’m a family friend of Paula Douglas. And a concerned party, you could say.”
“I was unaware there was anyone involved other than her daughter. I’m glad Charlotte has some support,” he replied. I lifted my brows in surprise that he knew a patient’s daughter by name. The facility wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either. MacDonald interpreted my expression correctly and added, “Wauchula is a small town. Everyone pretty much knows everyone. Anyone with kids who went to the high school knows Paula.”
“Of course. Well, Charlotte and I are… close. And I’d like to help them both, if at all possible.”
“In what way?”
“Any way I can,” I replied honestly. “I’d be happy to cover any outstanding medical bills, though I should mention that there will be a change of insurance soon. That side of things should improve. But most of all, I’d like to see what it would take to get Paula moved closer to Tampa. Charlotte recently landed a well-paying job there, and I’m sure it would be better for both of them if they were able to spend more time together.”
“Certainly. I’m glad to hear Charlotte’s doing well. More than one person in the community was worried about her, especially when Paula first became ill. But she’s a strong young woman.”
“That she is,” I agreed fervently. “I haven’t really brought it up with her yet, because I didn’t want to get her hopes up. First, I wanted to see if moving her mother was even a possibility from a medical perspective.”
“Give me just a moment to pull up her chart,” MacDonald said with a nod, turning to his computer. “Now, I’m sure you understand I can’t give you any medical information if you’re not on the disclosure form.”
“I do understand, and you won’t find my name on it. I’m not asking for specifics about anything. Just a simple yes or no. I need to know whether or not I should bring it up with Charlotte.”
MacDonald took a few minutes to respond, and I waited patiently as he presumably read through Paula’s recent treatment records and notations from her doctors. Eventually, he gave a nod of satisfaction and a smile.
“Well, as I said, I can’t give you details, but… It can’t hurt to mention the idea to her.”
“Thank you,” I said with a smile as I stood. “And hypothetically speaking, if someone were to act as say… an anonymous benefactor… would the money be accepted on Paula’s account?” MacDonald gave a laugh-like snort and stood up too, extending his hand to shake mine.
“We could make arrangements for that, yes. Hypothetically,” he grinned.
I thanked him again and headed back to Paula’s room, feeling optimistic. With any luck, we’d be able to get her into a good place in Tampa sooner rather than later. Charlotte had been shouldering too many burdens for too long with no one to share the load, and I was determined to change that.
Seventeen
Eli
�
�It’s getting close to dinner time. Want to stop and eat somewhere?”
“Sure,” Charlotte answered softly. She’d been pretty quiet since we’d left Wauchula, but I’d been content to give her her space and just enjoy her presence.
I spotted a franchise restaurant with a familiar name and got Charlotte’s hum of approval before pulling into the parking lot. It was the sort of place with kitschy pop culture decor and a wide offering of comfort food. A hostess led us to a booth near the window, and I slid into the seat next to Charlotte rather than across from her. She looked at me in surprise.
“Do you mind?”
“No,” she smiled, giving a little shrug of her shoulders. “I didn’t realize you’d want to be a ‘same-side couple.’ I chuckled at the clever expression.
“Do you see a lot of them at Chance Encounters?”
“Maybe a couple times a week. More around Valentine’s Day.”
I nodded and put an arm around her shoulders, gently pulling her against me, and I was pleased when she immediately melted into my side.
“I just want to be close to you. Today has been kind of heavy.”
“I’ll say. I slept with my future boss, who is now my boyfriend. I introduced him to my mother, and he got her to smile for the first time in months.” Her eyes were teary again as she smiled up at me. I kissed her forehead and held her a little tighter.
“I really enjoyed getting to meet her. It means a lot to me that you wanted me there. And I really liked seeing all of those pictures. I wish I could’ve spent more time looking at them.”
Charlotte groaned, but her smile didn’t fade.
“When I sold the house, I got rid of pretty much everything that didn’t hold sentimental value. I only kept pictures and heirlooms. Luckily everything important was small enough to fit into her room.”
“You have heirlooms?” I asked with interest.
“Not many. Just a few odds and ends that were passed down from my grandma and my aunt. My mom had an older sister who died a few years before I was born. I was named after her.”
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