Why Lie? (Love Riddles #2) (25 page)

I nod, moving first to stand by her bed. “Hello, Mrs. Mackey.”

She gives me a soft smile. “No more casts.”

I grin back and lift my leg. “Just this boot and cane now.”

“Is it uncomfortable?” she asks.

I glance back at Heath and mouth “Thank you,” as he shifts the chair closer for me to sit in. Once I’m seated, he leans over the back of it to kiss the top of my head.

“I’ll be right back.”

His mom doesn’t miss this exchange.

I watch him walk from the room and turn back to his mom once he’s gone.

“He never loved her.”

I blink but am unable to form words.

“Kacey,” she goes on. “She’s a great girl. I was happy for them but scared they wouldn’t last.”

“I—”

She keeps talking. “That doesn’t scare me anymore. Watching the way he is with you, I know he was never in love with her.”

She coughs, the force of it shaking her whole body. I reach for her arm and shift my now panicked eyes to the door. Her other hand covers mine as her coughs subside and I turn back to her.

“Should I get your mask?” I ask. “Or Heath?”

She responds with a gentle shake of her head.

Her hand squeezes mine. “He loves you.”

My nose starts to sting and I have to blink back the wetness hitting my eyes. It is clear that each word she says is an effort. An effort she expended to tell me Heath loves me.

Like a latch clicking into place, I believe her. Deep down to the very center of my soul I cannot deny the truth in her words. Her eyes do not leave my face. She smiles, having witnessed firsthand, the emotions at play there.

“You love him, too.” She confirms what my face gave away.

“I’m scared,” I admit.

She presses her lips together and squeezes her eyes closed. When her eyes reopen, they are wet like mine. “Don’t be,” she whispers. “Let your love for each other make you fearless.”

I heard every word.

Every. Single. Word.

We have a high tech-baby monitor in the den with receivers in the kitchen and in my dad’s bedroom. That way if my mom ever needs him, he’ll know. The first place I went to look was the kitchen so I heard their conversation.

I’m not surprised my mom can tell I love Sydney. In fact, I’m relieved she figured it out on her own. If I would’ve told her myself, I was concerned she wouldn’t have believed me. That she would have thought those words, coming so shortly after I claimed to feel the same way for Kacey, would have been another attempt at me checking an item off her bucket list.

This is better.

“You okay?”

I jerk, startled by my dad’s question and turn my head to look at him.

Sydney’s voice comes through the monitor. “Okay.”

My mom replies, “I couldn’t have dreamed a better woman for my boy.”

At those words, I find it hard to stand and move to sit. My father comes close, reaching out to squeeze my shoulder.

I listen as either Sydney or my mom quietly sniffles through the monitor. It must be Sydney because her voice is thick with emotion when she replies, “Thank you.”

They’re both silent after that.

“Let’s go check on them,” my dad murmurs, his hand still on my shoulder.

I suck in a breath and then nod. “Just give me a minute. I’ll be right in.”

He gives my shoulder another squeeze while also giving me a sympathetic look. He then leaves.

In that moment, listening to something so beautiful between my mother and the woman I love, it hits me how much I’ll miss in the future. I’ll never walk into a room to find Sydney gabbing on the phone with her. I’ll never get to experience my mother watching me start a family. I’d never rush Sydney into marrying me like I stupidly tried to do with Kacey but I will still mourn my mom missing my wedding day.

The only thing that gives me any sort of solace is that at least she knows I have someone. I may not be able to give my mom the ceremony, or the piece of paper that says it, but I’ve found the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.

Pushing back from the table, I stand. One lesson I do not need a reminder of is to not waste the time I have left with my mom. For that reason, I don’t slow my steps as I make my way back to the den.

My father is sitting on the sofa while Sydney is still in the chair on the other side of my mother’s bed.

Their conversation must have taken a lot out of my mom, because her mask is back on. She doesn’t like to wear it when she has company, says it makes her feel like Darth Vader.

Since there isn’t anything medically left that can be done for her, all we can do is make her as comfortable as possible. We also have a hospice worker, Beth, who visits her.

A coworker once shared his experience with a hospice worker to me. How comforting their presence was for his family during such a scary and unfamiliar time. It had been an uncle who’d died. From diagnosis to his death, he’d lived five months. He went from being a healthy guy to someone who was dying. His family needed the help in navigating the uncertainty of dealing with death.

It’s been different for my dad and me. My mom has been dying since I was born. There isn’t anything that hasn’t been considered or already planned for us.

Claiming the chair next to Sydney’s, I try not to think of anything other than now. With her mask back on, my mom is quiet. My father speaks for her, currently entertaining Sydney with embarrassing stories about me. I rest my arm on the back of her chair, my fingertips dusting the skin of her shoulder. She sits close to Mom’s bed, close enough that one of her hands is sandwiched between my mom’s.

Sydney’s eyes are on my dad as he tells her about the time I raided a neighbor’s garage for beer when I was in high school. She doesn’t let on that I’ve already told her this story. My gaze moves from her profile to my mom’s face.

My mom is looking at us. She’s tired but even behind the clear plastic of her mask, I can tell she’s happy.

Without even trying, I gave that to her.

“How long were you grounded?” Sydney asks.

I smirk at my dad. “The entire summer.”

Sydney laughs. “Serves you right, you little delinquent.”

“Oh, I learned my lesson,” I reply.

My mom weakly nods while my dad says, “That’s the good thing about Heath. He doesn’t repeat his mistakes.”

“Nope,” I joke. “I like to keep things interesting by coming up with new ones.”

Mom looks over and points at Dad, her mouth forming the word “You.”

He shrugs. “Your mom seems to think you inherited that from me.”

“Never seen you repeat a mistake,” I admit. Then I look at my mom and murmur, “And I never saw you make one.”

She shakes her head, lifting her hand from Sydney’s to shake her finger as well.

I keep going, “You can try and argue but you’ll never win this argument.”

She presses her hand to her chest and then points at me. Her eyes are shining when I say, “I love you too, mom.”

Not long after, she falls asleep. Since her sleep is all over the place right now, Sydney, my dad and I, go to the kitchen to eat lunch. This way, we won’t disturb her with our conversation.

“How long do you need to wear the boot?” Dad asks Sydney once we’re all seated and served.

“Except for sleeping and showering, I need to wear it and use the cane all the time for a week. The week after I can stop using the cane and only need to wear it when I go outside. After that I don’t have to wear it at all.”

“It’s good to see you up and around again. Heath’s mom and I wanted to come up and see you in the hospital but with her health. . . .”

She waves one hand and rests her other hand on my bicep. “I completely understand. Besides, Heath came up to see me every day.”

Sure weeks have passed but like my dad said, seeing her up and getting around again is a miracle. For weeks after the slide, I had nightmares about not being able to get help. I dreamed she died right in front of me and there was nothing I could do. The only thing that made those dreams go away was watching her heal. That was part of the reason I visited her daily, to remind myself that she was alive and well.

Taking her hand from where it rests on my arm, I lift it to my mouth and brush my lips across her knuckles. Having her here and knowing that she’ll be there for me is what’s currently keeping me sane.

Focusing on the good, on her, is all I can do. In a way, my parents are doing the same thing. They’re focusing on us, on the good, on the way life goes on no matter what. She’s a welcome distraction with no expiration date. It’s a relief for all of us to watch someone get better.

But, it isn’t only that. It’s her. She’s beautiful, smart, and kind. Her presence alone can brighten a room. Hell, her smile can brighten an entire block.

Back before the mudslide, I had lost that. Her presence would dim around me as soon as she sensed me. My actions caused that and like my dad said, I only make a mistake once before I learn my lesson.

She’s doing more for my family right now than anyone or anything else could. Sydney is walking, talking, living comfort, a balm to everything that troubles me.

Coughing sounds through the monitor so my dad gets up to go check on my mom.

“Can I get you anything else to eat, drink?” I ask Sydney.

She shakes her head. “No, thanks. I’m stuffed.”

We both turn to the monitor when we hear my dad’s voice come through it saying, “Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. Can I get you something to drink?”

We don’t hear my mom’s response.

“How does your dad do it?” Sydney whispers.

“Do what?” I ask.

She looks at me, hesitating before she says, “Not fall apart.”

My eyes move toward the doorway to the kitchen. He isn’t there. His quiet voice comes through the monitor again.

“All right, there you go, that good? I’ve got you. I’ll stay right here.”

With a gulp, I turn down the volume on the monitor before looking back at Sydney. Her face gives her confusion away.

She’s wondering what my parents are doing.

“My mom likes to listen to our hearts. Right now, he’s probably lying next to her with her head on his chest. She likes . . .” I have to stop to take a breath. “ . . . she likes to remind herself that our hearts are fine. It relaxes her.”

Her mouth falls open and she stares at the monitor. “That is so sweet and sad all at the same time.”

I nod, and then stand. It’s getting heavy and I need to think of anything else if I’m going to go back to work today. She follows my lead and stands. I take our plates and set them in the sink. The dishwasher is full. I’ll unload it when I get back tonight.

“Bittersweet.”

Turning toward her, I say, “What?”

She wets her lips. “Sad and sweet at the same time.”

One second I’m standing next to her putting plates in the sink, the next second my arms are wrapping around her, holding her to me. Did I move first, or did she? Not sure who did and I don’t care.

She feels good in my arms and smells like sweet apples. There’s only sweet to her, and nothing sad. If I could, I’d stand here all day with her in my arms. My boss is cool, but not that cool. Dipping my head, my fingers under her chin, I tilt her face up. Then, I press my lips to hers.

It’s an effort not to deepen the kiss. There’s a part of me that will always want all of her. She’s sexy without even trying to be.

“I have to get back to work,” I admit.

She nods and takes my hand. Since I’m not sure if my mom has fallen back to sleep, Sydney waits for me at the door of the den so I can say bye. My dad is out, gently snoring. Normally, his snore would always make me laugh. Strangely, now it makes me wonder if I snore.

When I see my mom’s eyes are open, I move closer. Careful not to wake him, I give her a kiss on the cheek. She lifts her hand to hold my face to hers for a brief moment.

“I love you, Mom,” I whisper, loud enough for her to hear.

Her lips move behind her mask, “I love you, Heathcliff,” as she presses the center of her chest and points at me.

“Best mom a kid could have,” I whisper.

It’s getting harder and harder to leave her. I do it twice a day, once for work in the morning and once again to go back in the afternoon. My good-byes are getting longer as the realization that she might not be here when I get back is my new reality.

When things looked bad around the time I proposed to Kacey, I used my short-term disability leave to help my dad and spend time with mom.

My days are gone so his hands are tied. He’s sympathetic but if I’m not there, my work isn’t getting done. There’s also the matter of paying my bills. When life gets rough, the universe doesn’t rearrange itself to make things easier on you.

She reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. Words might be hard for her right now but I still hear her loud and clear. She’s the main reason I can’t fall apart. She’s my example of strength.

“You’re screwing up my nap, kiddo,” my dad grumbles.

I choke out a laugh, the heavy vibe in the room now gone. My mom rolls her eyes at him interrupting our moment. It was exactly what we needed, though. I lean over and kiss her cheek again.