are you today?”
He wasn’t sure how to answer that, so he sidestepped the question. “Wondering when it’s appropriate to take down Christmas decorations.”
The cheerful woman laughed. “When your mother says it’s okay.”
“Makes sense.” Glancing toward the living room, he quietly asked, “How’s she doing today?”
“I’ve never had the joy of caring for a patient with such a marvelous attitude.”
Translation: the same. Cam fought off a dejected sigh and forced a smile. “That’s nice to hear. Is she awake?”
“And waiting for dinner with you. The café sent over a delicious-smelling chicken and dumplings meal for the two of you, and it’s keeping warm in the oven. You look beat,” she added in a concerned tone. “Is there anything I can do before I go?”
“No, thanks. I’ve got it from here.”
She gave him a doubtful look but thankfully didn’t press him for details. After the infuriating run-in with his father, he wasn’t exactly in the mood to be sociable.
“Well, all right. Call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
After walking her out, he took a moment to regain his usual calm before talking to Mom. Resting a hand on the antique door, he looked down at the faded floral rug that had been in the entryway since long before he’d been born. Old and solid like the oak trees that surrounded it, the house had been built by one of the founders of the town and owned by his descendants ever since.
Mom’s current condition might be the end of that run, Cam mused with a frown. If he couldn’t figure out a way to pull the family business out of the ever-deepening hole that he’d found it in, selling the homestead could be their only way out of debt. He hated to think of that happening on his watch, but modern finances didn’t always mesh with keeping a family’s history intact. Much as it pained him, he had to be practical.
Explaining it to Mom would be another thing altogether. For now, he put that out of his mind and plastered a nonchalant grin on his face before sauntering into the living room like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Hey there,” he said smoothly, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “How’s my favorite girl?”
Eyes that used to be a clear blue had a cloudy tinge to them, and it took her a few seconds to focus on him. When she did, the unaffected left side of her face crinkled with what now passed for her smile. “Better.”
Because her speech was so limited, these days she kept her end of conversations short. It killed him to see his formerly bubbly mother reduced to this, but he held out hope that her ongoing therapy would unlock whatever ability she still had and make the most of it.
Reaching for something positive, he landed on the only thing all day that had made him smile. “Erin Kinley’s gonna rent the old general store building from us. She and I signed the papers with Natalie this morning.”
Her smile deepened a little at the news. “That’s good. Living there?”
“Yeah, with her foster son, Parker. Have you met him?” She shook her head, but her expression brightened slightly, prompting him to go on. “He’s had a tough time, but he seems like a great kid. Really liked my truck.”
“Heard some things,” she said in a halting voice, clearly hunting for the right words. “Poor boy.”
With the precarious state her own health was in, that she could feel sympathy for someone else’s problems made Cam feel ashamed for pitying his own situation. “She’s opening a pet store, aiming to have it ready to go before spring. I offered to design and build the fixtures she needs, so that oughta help move things along.”
“My Cam,” Mom approved, extending a trembling hand to pat his arm. “Such a good boy.”
Her praise hit him hard, and he had to swallow the lump that suddenly clogged his throat. Accustomed to working with a crew of tough-as-nails guys, he wasn’t used to having a softer touch in his life, and he had to admit it was kind of nice. “Thanks. Are you ready for dinner?”
Shaking her head, she pinned him with an alarmingly alert stare. “Who was here?”
Assuming she’d been asleep during his father’s unwelcome stop, Cam swallowed a curse. “No one.” She gave him a chiding look, and he relented with a frown. “Fine. Your husband came by, and I told him it was a bad time for a visit.”
There would never be a good time, but Cam figured it was best to keep that opinion to himself. He didn’t want to upset her any more than necessary.
“Why?” she asked.
“You mean, why did he come, or why did I send him away?”
“Both.”
Cam filled her in on the little he knew, then remembered the business card he’d jammed into his pocket. He fished out the crumpled paper and showed it to her. Then, to his amazement, she took it from him and stared at it for several long moments.
“You should call him,” she finally said.
When she got tired, her speech began to slur a bit, and he assumed he’d misunderstood. “I’m sorry, Mom. What did you say?” She repeated it, and he scowled. “Not a chance.”
“Please?” Fixing him with a trusting look, she gave him another half smile. “At least think about it.”
Cam’s instinct was to refuse outright, then list the many reasons they all had for avoiding contact with the man who’d abandoned them when he’d come to the decision that his family was more of a burden than he cared to shoulder. Just as he was about to launch his argument, though, Cam noticed something in his mother’s gaze.
Fatigue had begun to set in, and her ability to focus on him was starting to fade. But somewhere in the lines of her face he saw a trace of her old determination. It was the kind of look she’d given him when he was a teenager bent on defying her just for the fun of testing her limits. Seeing it now bolstered his flagging hope that in time she’d recover from this devastating blow and be herself again.
“You want to see him, don’t you?” he asked.
“Not if it hurts you.”
Meaning she wanted it for herself but wouldn’t sacrifice Cam’s peace of mind to get it. For the life of him, he couldn’t begin to understand why she felt so strongly about reconnecting with a man who’d neglected her for so long. His father wouldn’t be back in town for a few days yet, which gave him some time to mull over the situation and make a decision.
“Okay, Mom,” he finally gave in, covering her frail hand with one of his own. Giving a gentle squeeze, he forced a smile. “For you, I’ll think about it. But don’t tell anyone I gave up so easy. I’ve got a reputation, y’know.”
That got him a faint laugh, and she murmured a thank-you.
“You’re welcome. Meantime, I’m starving. How ’bout you?”
“Smells
