“I made him up a plate, but I haven’t checked in.”
“Fiona have any problems?” Mel asked. The nurse that came in three times a week to help Dad was a saint and rarely complained if Dad was rude, but occasionally…
“She didn’t say anything.”
Mel put the beer and salad down on the counter, then stared at it, trying to work through all the exhaustion that made her feel so damn helpless.
“I can fix you the salad.”
“Don’t baby me, I might cry.”
“Don’t cry, I might run.” He was smiling when she looked at him, but she knew he was exhausted too.
“Maybe…maybe if this money pulls through, we can hire someone on.” She unscrewed the cap of the bottle of dressing and poured some into the bag, shaking it a little before grabbing a fork.
“If the money pulls through? Bad first day?”
“No, just weird.” She popped the top to her beer and guzzled the first drink.
“Weird how?”
“I don’t know. The guy is hard to make sense of. He’s a cocky bastard.”
“Well, you were expecting that, right?”
“Yeah, but…” She couldn’t explain to Caleb that she didn’t hate him for it. She didn’t know how to explain that to herself. He was arrogant and way too flirty, but he took everything in such easygoing stride.
Maybe that was it. He could look at life and see easy, and she had never known people like that. Shaws were so bound and determined to make everything damn hard.
“I’m just tired. Tell me how things went here.”
“I checked off every chore on your list, madam taskmaster.”
“I only meant—”
“I know what you meant, and I’m not going to get pissy about it. I did what you wanted me to do. You want to grill me or check my work, you can, but you’ve got enough shit on your plate, Mel. Trust me to handle it, please. If you keel over, I’m really screwed.”
She took a deep breath, then tossed the bag onto the counter and grabbed a pizza off the little cardboard circle it rested on. Nearly cold, but better than slightly browning bagged lettuce.
“But you’ll…” She tried to rein in all the emotions exhaustion was letting free. “You promise me if there’s a problem you can’t handle, you’ll bring it to me. Even with everything on my plate. I need to know—”
“We’re not losing this place. I promised you that when Dad was in the hospital, and I’m not going back on it.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded.
“I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt—”
She waved it away. “We’ve had our apologies and our tears and our come-to-Jesus moment. I don’t want to rehash it. Things are fine. We’re getting there.” She popped the last bite of unsatisfying pizza in her mouth. “I’m going to go check on Dad.”
“I’ll come with. Maybe we can talk him into watching some TV in the same room as us or something.”
She wasn’t sure she was feeling sturdy enough to be rebuffed by Dad right now, but Caleb was so determined. She couldn’t argue with him.
But when she stepped into the living room, they were greeted by Dad’s snoring, soft and even. “Well, so much for family togetherness,” she whispered, going over to grab his—thankfully empty—dinner plate.
She noticed the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s that had most definitely not been half-empty this morning peeking out from a blanket lying on the ground.
Dad had never been much of a drinker, even these few years after the accident, but occasionally…
Yup, when she pulled back the blanket, there was the old family album. She didn’t know where he kept it. It always disappeared after one of these episodes.
The fact that it was opened to a picture of her mother, the mother she looked more and more like with every passing year—made her feel cold all over. Why did she have to look like that woman?
“It doesn’t mean anything, Mel.” Caleb nudged her arm. “He was over it a long time ago. All his stuff now is about the wheelchair, not her.”
Mel wondered if Caleb believed it, because she sure as hell didn’t. Not that she could change any of it. There was no going back. Only forward.
She dropped the blanket back in place, letting it hide Dad’s sins, so to speak. “I’m going to go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Mel…”
When she stopped in the doorway, Caleb didn’t say anything for a long time. Then he said, “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to make it okay.”
“I know,” she lied. Then she let a little bit of the truth slide. “But what about him?”
She didn’t wait for Caleb’s answer. Couldn’t. She needed to crawl into bed and sleep away the tears burning behind her eyes.
*