“Yeah. I know. Has she gotten worse?”
She didn’t answer and Julian didn’t know what to say to make her feel better. Her mother was incapacitated, using a walker and sometimes a wheelchair to get around now. The moment he’d met Dale and Cindy Moore, he’d immediately known why Kristin worked so damn hard.
He lost it when he saw the tears start to pour from Kristin’s eyes. “Come here,” he demanded, holding out his arms. “Either come to me or I’ll come get you.”
In an instant, she was throwing herself into his arms.
CHAPTER 13
Once the tears started, Kristin couldn’t stop. It was like water bursting through a dam that had been stressed for a very long time. Once it was broken, everything had to flow out of her.
“Shhh . . . sweetheart. Tell me about it,” Julian said in a low, comforting voice next to her ear.
He was reclined back on the sofa, and holding her body against him. The respite she was getting while she was there felt like heaven. Julian’s strength was a welcome haven. Angrily, she swiped the tears from her cheeks with her fingers. “I was eight when she was diagnosed. Mom was forty-five, and she had the progressive type of MS. Every patient is different, experiences the disease in various ways, so it was hard to tell what would happen from day to day. One of the reasons I didn’t have all that many friends wasn’t just because I was bullied. I could handle the jerks in school. It was because I was home a lot. I always wanted to get there to make sure she was doing okay.”
“So you felt responsible for her when you were a kid?”
Kristin had never really thought about it, but she guessed she had feared that her mom might get sicker if she wasn’t there. “I suppose I did,” she answered, making herself comfortable between Julian’s legs and letting her back rest against his chest. “Back then, I didn’t really understand much except that she didn’t feel good most of the time. She had some occasional good days, but she struggled. She could walk, but she always had balance issues.”
His arms wrapped around her waist. “Then what happened?”
“As I grew up, things got worse and worse. The financial strain of Mom having a chronic illness was always difficult. I pretty much went to school and rushed home afterward. Dad had to get to Shamrock’s. We couldn’t afford much staff at the bar.”
Those years had been hard. No extracurricular activities, and no real involvement in anything outside of home and the classroom. Not that Kristin regretted spending those years with her mother. She loved her. But she had experienced moments over the years where she wished she wasn’t an only child, that she had a sibling or two to talk to about her fears. Her dad had always been so fearful and anxious that she’d never wanted to be anything but positive with him.
“So you were socially isolated?” he asked in a concerned tone.
“Yes. No. Maybe a little, but I probably didn’t have to be.” Kristin’s anxiety was her own. Her mom had been fatigued, and she had been having problems walking. But never did her mother tell her to stay home. Kristin made those decisions on her own.
“You decided you needed to take care of her,” Julian concluded. “Why am I not surprised?”
“She needed help,” Kristin defended.
“Maybe she did, sweetheart. But you didn’t need to take on that role when you were still a kid.”
“There wasn’t anyone else. And it doesn’t matter. I’m not a child anymore. I went to school to get a technical license and went to work.”
“In health care, of course,” Julian drawled.
“I actually happen to like taking care of people,” she replied indignantly.
“I’m not arguing that you have a kind heart, Scarlet. I’m just saying you haven’t had much of a life. I admire the fact that you’ve always been there for your parents. I wish I could say the same.”
“Your parents weren’t ill,” Kristin retorted.
“Still wish I would have thought about the fact that they weren’t going to be around forever,” he grumbled. “I was selfish. I thought everything was on hold while I was trying to get to the top of my field. My parents were my biggest supporters. I never knew they wouldn’t live to see my success.”