The Good Mother. Shelley Galloway

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Today as one of the top vacation resorts.”

      All this was news to her. “I can’t believe so much has happened to August and I didn’t know it.”

      “Why? You’ve had your own problems, Evie.” Handing her a tray of appetizers, he said, “Let’s go visit.”

      As they heard laughter out on the back patio, her dad’s expression momentarily sobered. “It’s only fair to warn you that Bev Meyer isn’t doing too well.”

      Evie’s steps faltered. “Mrs. Meyer’s sick? What’s wrong?”

      “You’ll see,” he said before walking out the back door, leaving Evie to wonder what else she’d missed while unsuccessfully trying to have a life with John.

      Chapter Three

      Evie Ray Randall was skinny. So skinny, August figured she could put on twenty pounds and still look in need of a good meal. Her arms were too thin, her hips too bony. Dark smudges marred the translucent skin around her eyes, the shadows almost matching the smoky gray irises that had mesmerized him from the moment they’d first met.

      Evie’s hair needed to be cut or styled or whatever his sister, Tanya, was constantly doing to hers, because it hung down her back in a limp ponytail, the once vibrant color dull and faded.

      So, how come he still thought Evie was the most beautiful woman in the world?

      It had to be the spark of mischief that never quite left her eyes. The way she was never too sweet, too patient, or too upbeat. In short, Evie Ray had always been real. She laughed when things were funny, showed her temper when she was mad, and cried at Hallmark commercials. Yep, with Evie, what you saw was what you got. And he’d always wanted every bit of her.

      “What?” Evie asked, catching him staring from across the table they were setting. “Do I have ketchup on me or something?” She picked up a napkin she’d just folded and swiped it across her face.

      “Stop, you look fine,” he said, grabbing the napkin. “I didn’t mean to stare, I was just thinking of something else.”

      She pulled a stack of plates from the basket her mom had set out and started walking around the table, placing each in the center of a red linen place mat. “Really? It must have been pretty important.”

      When he took too long formulating a reply, she gestured toward the far side of the patio. “Are you worried about your mom?”

      “No. Well, not too much.” Out of habit, he studied his mom’s color as she munched on a bacon-wrapped shrimp. For the moment, his mother looked healthy, her color not too flushed.

      Evie leaned forward. “My dad told me that she’s been sick.”

      “Yeah. She’s had some trouble with her cholesterol and blood pressure, among other things. She had to have a stent put in one of her arteries last year. Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s slowed her down for a minute.”

      “What gave you the first clue?” Evie asked with a broad grin. “The pile of shrimp or the plate of fries my dad just handed her?”

      “All of it,” he said, finally able to see the humor. Bev Meyer had never been one to follow anyone’s advice but her own. Why had he thought things would suddenly change? “I’m trying to take care of her, but she wants none of it.”

      “She’s always been independent.”

      Thinking of his mother, who’d once been a ballet teacher before settling down to raise kids and help her husband with the resort, he nodded. “Yeah. She has always been that.”

      “Things have been tough since your dad died, huh?” she asked, handing him the spoons as she folded napkins and began circling the table once again.

      Dutifully, August placed a spoon to the right of each plate. “Yep, but at least Tanya lives nearby, too. She moved next to Mom, just in case Mom starts feeling bad but doesn’t want to tell us. The first time Tanya and I heard Mom was having heart problems was when her doctor told us they’d admitted her to the hospital.”

      “Oh, August.”

      He tried to smile, to ease Evie’s look of worry. “It sucked. Luckily, she’s promised she’ll never keep us in the dark again.”

      “She better not.”

      Determined to lighten the mood, he pointed to the chunky blue salt-and-pepper shakers on the table. “These look familiar. They’re from your catalog, right?”

      “Yep. Mom and Dad are great customers.”

      “I looked through it the other day. You do a great job.”

      “It’s not my catalog. I just work there and help manage things. It’s a good place to work.”

      “It’s great they let you take a long vacation.”

      “Summer is a slow time for us.” With a shrug, she added, “Plus, I needed a break.”

      “Being here in Bishop’s Gate will be good for you.”

      Emotion sparked in her eyes. “Lately, I’ve been hearing that a lot. I must look even worse than I thought.” Before he could say a word, Evie pointed to the flight of steps leading out toward the walkway and beach. “The table’s all set. Let’s go sit out there.”

      “All right.” Grabbing two more Coors Lights, August told everyone they were going for a short walk, then followed Evie, who’d already stepped off the patio, kicked off her shoes, and was walking barefoot down the path.

      In a couple of strides, he caught up with her. “I got us another round.”

      “Thanks,” she said, twisting off the cap easily.

      After a few more steps, they sat down on a pair of ancient iron chairs, half buried in silky-soft warm sand. Within seconds, Evie buried her toes in the sand, too. “Ah,” she said, finally treating him to a genuine smile. “Do you smell the surf? I love it here.”

      August stretched out his legs and glanced toward the horizon, where the warm gulf water rushed in gentle waves across the shoreline. “Me, too. I’ve always loved it here.” Beside him, Evie sat with her head back, sheer bliss on her face. She looked beautiful. “For the record, I think you look okay, Evie,” he said softly.

      Her head popped up, her eyes so full of cautious eagerness, that it took his breath away. “Yeah?”

      “Yeah,” he replied, hoping she didn’t hear how affected by her he was. He took a fortifying sip of his Coors and watched the waves with Evie.

      Little by little, the sunlight faded and the temperature dropped. Behind them, August could hear his mom laugh at some old joke Mike was telling.

      “You just need to take some time for yourself,” he added after a while.

      She laughed at that. “What I need to do, August, is take care of my children.”

      August pointed behind them. On the patio, Missy was playing with some French fries

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