CHAPTER TWENTY
“DADGUMMIT.” ELI GRABBED his foot and started hopping in pain.
Russ let out a heart-wrenching wail. “You bwoke my twuck, Gwandpa. The twuck my daddy sent me.”
Rosemary squatted beside her grandson as Eli landed hard in the chair. “Here, sweetie,” she said gently, “let Grandma see.” Her heart splintered at the sight of Russ’s favorite truck—the one he’d been sleeping with for the past week—lying in pieces on the wood floor. Some of the pieces were crushed, and she gathered them into her hand. “I don’t think it can be fixed, precious. But we can find you a new one just like it.”
“I don’t want a new one!” Russ cried harder, his little face contorted with the agony of the loss. “I want this one. The one fwom my Daddy. Fix it, Gwandma. Pwease?”
Her body shook with the effort of holding back tears. It was unfixable. She placed the pieces on the floor and searched for any two that might go together, desperate to salvage something, but they kept falling apart. Nothing fit.
“Mom?”
Maggie called her, but she didn’t look up.
Her hands started to shake so badly she couldn’t get the pieces she held to line up. What was she going to do? She couldn’t fix it.
“Mom?”
Rosemary opened her eyes partway, squinting against the sunlight coming through the window near her head. Maggie was standing beside her. She sat up quickly—too quickly—and the room spun.
“What time is it?” she asked, waiting for the room to settle before she tried to stand.
“Almost ten.” Confusion rang in Maggie’s voice.
“Ten?” Was that possible? She hadn’t slept past seven in forty years. “Oh, good heavens! Eli?” He was an early riser. If he was still in bed, it could only mean he’d died in his sleep. She sprang from the couch in a panic, her heart slamming against her chest wall, and bolted to the bedroom. There she pulled up short.
The bed was empty and already made. He’d gotten up and left her sleeping on the couch. Relief flooded her and, on its heels, the profound sadness that greeted her every morning these days. She sensed Maggie had followed her into the bedroom, and while she wanted to collapse on the floor right where she stood, she wouldn’t give in to the dramatics. Instead, she went to the bed and leaned against it for support, pretending to smooth out some nonexistent wrinkle in the comforter.
“Want to tell me what’s going on?” Maggie asked.
Rosemary glanced at Maggie but continued pulling at the bedclothes, getting a grip on her emotions. “I stayed up late reading and I guess I fell asleep on the couch.”
“The couch is made up with a sheet and a blanket and your pillow from the bed. You didn’t just fall asleep while reading, so let’s try this again. What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you and Dad having trouble? Is that why you’re sleeping on the couch?” This time, the confusion in her voice went sharp with fear.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Maggie. Of course not.” She forced a chuckle to add authenticity to her lie. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately, and your dad needs his rest so his heart can recover. I didn’t want my tossing and turning to keep him awake, so I’ve been sleeping on the couch some.”
Ten nights straight counted as some, right?
“What brings you by this morning, dear?” Rosemary changed the touchy subject, shooing her daughter out of the bedroom and down the hall.
“I just thought I’d stop by on my way to work. Maybe beg a cup of coffee.”
They both stopped in the kitchen, looking around in surprise at the mess.
“Dad fixed his own breakfast, too?” Maggie’s eyes widened.
It looked as though he’d made a half-assed attempt to clean up after himself. His dirty dishes were in the sink, but the butter and jelly were still on the table, and a half carafe of stone-cold coffee sat on the counter.
“You must’ve been dead to the world if you didn’t hear him.” Maggie laughed, her mood lighter now. “But then, you were still sleeping hard when I woke you.”
Rosemary shuddered at the vague memory of the dream she’d been absorbed in. “I’m glad you woke me when you did.” She didn’t add that, as tired as she still felt, she might’ve slept all day. She needed caffeine. “Here. Let me get some coffee brewing.” She poured the leftover into the sink and rinsed the pot, groping for conversation, which didn’t come so easily with her daughter anymore...or anyone else for that matter. “You’re going in later than usual today, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I’ve been sleeping later, too.” Maggie walked to the window and peered out toward the backyard. “Where’s Dad, anyway? The truck’s here, but the shop’s dark and none of the doors are open.”
That’s odd.
Rosemary’s heart jumped from normal to racing in the span of two beats. “He hasn’t collapsed out in the yard, has he?”
She was out the back door in a split second with Maggie at her heels.
The path to the machine shop was a clear shot, and there wasn’t a body sprawled out between here and there.
Maggie had disappeared at a jog around the corner of the house, and Rosemary met her three-quarters of the way around in the side yard. “He’s not here. Did he say anything last night? Any plans to go anywhere today?”
“No. If he had plans, he didn’t mention them.” But then, they hadn’t spoken much the past few days, and what he did say was tinged with hurt and resentment. While Rosemary had just been too tired to make conversation.
“Maybe he has the cell with him.” Maggie pulled hers out of her pocket and punched a button with her thumb as they moseyed their way to the front yard.
“If he does, it’ll be the first time...stubborn old coot. I’ve asked him to carry it with him, but do you think he’ll listen to me? Nooo. Uh-uh. He’d rather have me here, worrying—”
Maggie’s hand gripped her arm suddenly. “Oh, my God, Mom. Look.”
An instant pall of dread came over Rosemary as her gaze followed her daughter’s finger to the end of the driveway.
* * *
MAGGIE CLOSED HER MOUTH, unaware at what point it had fallen open. But the sight that was turning into her mom and dad’s driveway sent a shock to her system.
A shiny monster-size motor home with her dad beaming at them from the window of the driver’s side was coming toward them.
“The brain fog has taken its toll,” her mom whispered, and then louder added, “He’s completely lost his mind.”
The engine was surprisingly quiet for such a huge vehicle, and it rolled to a smooth stop.
Her dad stood and waved, a smile splitting his face ear to ear. The door opened on the far side, and then he appeared around the front. “Well, what do you think?”
“What do I think?” Her mom’s fists were planted squarely on her hips, and Maggie had never seen her face quite that shade of red. “I think when the doctor opened you up, he must’ve vacuumed out all the parts you used for rational thinking.”
Her dad’s smile didn’t falter. “My rational thinking parts are as good as they ever were—just like everything else.” He pointed his finger at her. “I promised you right before I went into surgery I was going to retire, and you and I were gonna travel and see the world. I’m just keeping my word. This time next week, we’ll be enjoying the Grand Canyon in our new RV—our home away from home.” He gave a loving pat to the side of the vehicle.
“You bought this monstrosity?” All of that rosy flush drained from her mom’s face, replaced by sickly white.
“Yep.”
Even Maggie’s head spun at how much this thing must’ve cost. Could they afford it, or had her dad really gone off the deep end as much as her mom had been implying over the past couple of months? “Is it really a new one, Dad?”
>
“Naw.” He ran his hand across the shiny black paint. “It’s used. But it’s in great condition. Less than fifteen thousand miles on the odometer. Bought it from a guy in Murray. His wife died, and he just doesn’t want to travel in it anymore.” He motioned. “Come take a look at the inside.”
Maggie had seen large motor homes on TV, but she’d never actually set foot inside one. She was stunned when she stepped up into the lovely interior, which sported gleaming walnut cabinetry and two beige leather couches—one on each side of the coach.
Her dad led the way, pointing out the amenities. “Double-sided refrigerator, convection/microwave oven, two gas burners on the cooktop. Nice size sink with hot and cold running water.” He clapped his hands together, more excited than Maggie had ever witnessed about something that didn’t involve Russ. “You haven’t seen the best part.”
He moved to the front and pushed a button. A grinding noise sounded beneath the floor where they stood. “Hydraulic jacks,” he explained. “To get her level.”
Her mom wandered back toward the bedroom area, not saying anything, but when she made the about-face, the firm set of her mouth and the arms folded tightly across her chest told Maggie she was not a happy camper.
A tension like she’d never felt before between her parents filled the space. It was unsettling. Maggie had the sudden urge to skedaddle and let them have the “discussion” her mom was obviously gearing up for.
But her dad was like a kid at a carnival. She couldn’t walk out and leave him just yet.
“Okay, now she’s level.” The sound underneath had stopped and four red lights on the dashboard all turned green. “Now, watch this.” He pushed another button. The coach shuddered with a creak and a groan, and then the side she was facing began to move. The entire driver’s side of the coach, including the couch, the dinette and the refrigerator, slid outward, adding an additional three feet of floor space to the length of the room. Another button, and the entire passenger-side couch and kitchen area did the same.
“Wow! It’s like magic!” Her dad’s enthusiasm caught up with her. She turned to see if the magic was having the same effect on her mom and was met with an angry glare. Apparently not.
“Don’t encourage this foolishness,” her mom hissed.
Dad seemed oblivious to Mom’s reaction as he darted past them to the bathroom area of the coach. “Garden shower. Lavatory.” He opened and closed a door on his left. “Private room for doin’ your business.” He pressed a button on the wall and the bedroom area slid out, just like the front had done, making a walkway around the bed. “Queen-size bed and lots of closet and drawer space.”
“Humph,” her mom replied.
“It’s great, Dad.” Maggie gave him a hug of approval.
“You always take his side,” her mom snapped.
Oh, yeah. Definitely time to leave.
Maggie glanced at her watch and feigned alarm. “Oh, crap! I’ve gotta go or else I’ll miss my first client...”
“You don’t want to go for a ride?” The disappointment on her dad’s face was genuine.
“Tomorrow,” she promised as she gave them each a peck on the cheek.
“Okay.” Dad grinned and flipped open one of the cabinets over the bed to peer inside.
Mom’s look said there wouldn’t be any riding in the vehicle tomorrow. It would be back to its original owner by then.
* * *
ROSEMARY HAD BEEN seething at idle, waiting until she heard Maggie’s car start before she shifted her anger into forward gear.
“You’ve gone too far this time, Eli.” She thrust a finger in his direction to poke him in the chest but caught the gesture before it made contact and instead detoured it upward, shaking it in his face. “I’ve been very understanding of all your foolishness since the surgery. But this absolutely takes the cake as the most asinine thing you’ve ever done. Now, you take this contraption back to where you bought it and get our money back.”
“No.” Eli’s voice was calm. “The day after tomorrow, I’m headed out west to see the Grand Canyon. I’ve already made reservations at the campground there, and I’m going. You can either come with me, or you can stay here.” He reached down and took her hand, and the touch quieted something inside her. She ground her teeth together to get the anger back.
He sat on the bed, putting their eyes on a level plane. “You’ve been a good wife, Rosie. The best wife a man could ask for. And we’ve worked hard for the past forty-one years without ever taking any time for the two of us. You never complained, just went along from day to day.” He reached up to brush his fingers through the hair at her temple. “But I’ve seen with my own eyes what my surgery’s done to you. You’re not yourself. And I’m so afraid if I don’t get you away somewhere so you can rest and relax, I’m the one who’s going to be left here alone. I couldn’t bear that.”
His words sapped her of any remaining aggravation. She sat on his knee and put her arm around his shoulder, studying his face. His color was better than she’d seen it in years, as was his energy level. But she couldn’t shake the worry. “Won’t driving this big thing put a lot of pressure on you?”
“My heart’s fine. When are you going to let yourself believe that? They fixed it. There was no damage from a heart attack. It beats fast when I’m excited and slows when I’m not, just like yours does. It works the way it ought to.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
He took a breath, and his mouth rose at one end. “I checked with the doc, and he said if it was something I wanted to do, to go for it. You’ve been walking around in a coma for two weeks, Rosie. You haven’t even noticed when I’ve been gone.”
Rosemary thought back to the times when his truck was gone during the day. She’d assumed he’d gone uptown to shoot the breeze. “Where’ve you been going?” Now he had her curious.
“The guy who owned the coach has been giving me driving lessons. He picked me up this morning right here.” He waved his hand toward the house. “I actually bought it the day after you started sleeping on the couch. That was the day I knew I had to do something drastic to get my Rosie back.”
“Oh, Eli.” She leaned her forehead to his cheek, and his arms closed around her.
“Now, I know it’s going to take a while for us to get back to how we used to be. But a couple of weeks of travel and having fun will give us a start.”
She pushed back to look at him. “A couple of weeks is a long time for two people who’ve never been away from home for more than a weekend.”
He grinned. “That’s what’s great about this. We take our home with us.” He patted the bed and winked. “We’ve got our bed, which I’ve already made up with our own sheets and blankets. We just need to bring our pillows.” He shifted her off his lap and stood up, pushing the button to bring in the slide. “And lookee here.” He opened what looked like a closet. “A stacked washer and dryer unit, so we can do laundry.” He took her hand and led her back to the front room, opening the cabinet over the kitchen sink, which was filled with dishes.
“The guy sold me everything with it. Dishes, silverware.” He opened a large, deep drawer filled with cookware. “All kinds of pots and pans, too. Movie DVDs, a coffeemaker, toaster, waffle iron. I’m telling you, Rosie, it’s ready to move into. All it’s waiting for is groceries and our clothes.”
Rosemary’s heart fluttered with a good kind of excitement—a feeling she hadn’t felt in far too long. The flutter wasn’t strong, and it didn’t overpower the anxiety she was experiencing, but she couldn’t ignore it, either. “Well, if you’re determined to go...”
“I am.” Eli pushed the button and the kitchen slid back in.
“I would worry myself sick, thinking about you being out on the highway, all by yourself.”
He chuckled and brought in the other slide. “You’re
gonna worry yourself sick either way. You might as well get in some sights while you’re at it. Now, come here.” He pointed to the passenger seat. “Try it out.”
She sat on the soft leather, which had been sat on enough to be broken in. “It is comfortable,” she admitted, playing with the buttons on the side to adjust the seat to her preferences while he raised the hydraulic jacks. “But, what about the cost, Eli? I know it was expensive.”
“Life’s short, and we can’t take our money with us. Let’s enjoy it and each other, while we can. Okay?”
“Okay.” Her throat closed around her answer.
“Now, buckle your seat belt, ’cause we’re taking ’er for a ride.”
“Well, somebody’s getting taken for a ride,” she quipped. “But I think it may be me.”
“See there.” Eli laughed as he eased the big rig out of their driveway. “You’re getting back to your old self already, and we haven’t even driven out of town.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“YOU WOULD TELL me if anything was wrong, right?” Jeff tried to convince himself the odd quality to Maggie’s voice was simply the underlying tension between them, but he couldn’t shake the feeling it was more than that.
“Nothing’s wrong.” A loud yawn interrupted her part of the conversation. “I’m just tired, and standing most of the day makes my back hurt. But Dr. Donovan tells me that’s to be expected when you’re pregnant at thirty-seven as opposed to nineteen.”
“I suppose that’s true.” He shuffled some of the papers lying on the desk in front of him, groping for conversation topics to keep her talking a while longer. “Are you still going to the gym? Maybe you should give that a break for a while.” Damn! There he went, telling her what she should be doing. He’d been really watching what he said lately, trying to be ultra-supportive and concerned, while not giving in to advice or anything that would come across as overbearing.
“I haven’t been going as much as I was, but I’m trying to get in a couple of low-impact aerobics classes a week. And I walk during my breaks at work. I might get a treadmill for home, but I just don’t have the energy to shop for one right now. But this exhaustion will pass. I slept through the entire first trimester with Russ, if you remember.”
My Way Back to You (Harlequin Large Print Super Romance) Page 21