“And you didn’t tell me?” Stone’s voice is strained. “Why?”
“Honey, since the moment you could speak gibberish, you were meant to take the world by storm. And by God, you have, and I am so proud of you.Sodamn proud. Why would I want my son, who’s finally made a name for himself and become an independent, successful man, to return to a town that so clearly strangled him as a child and watch his mother deteriorate?”
“Because you’re my mother and I would never tolerate you suffering alone.”
“I’m not suffering, honey. I have my girlfriends, and my Friday night cribbage games—this evening notwithstanding—and my church on Sundays. My community. The whole town’s come together to make sure I get by, and as much as I hate it, I’ve accepted the help. Not to mention sweet Noa, who’s too young to be wasting her energy caring for elderly lost causes like me, yet here she is. I’m relying on her too much, I think.”
“Don’t make this about Noa.”
I tense against the wall.
“Why shouldn’t I? She had an entire future ahead of her, and she’s choosing to clip at my heels instead, cleaning up my waste and feeding me like a toddler.”
“It’s the job she chose. Don’t burden yourself with her decisions.”
There’s a sudden tightness on the surface of my chest. I rub the heel of my palm against the uncomfortable spot between my breasts, but it doesn’t go away. It only gets worse as Stone goes on.
“She was perfectly capable of escaping this town and making a name for herself, too.”
“She was dealt a crappy hand just as I have, honeybear. Go easier on her.”
A dismissive rumble escapes his throat. “Noa doesn’t concern me. You do. I’m angry you didn’t tell me. But I’ll put that aside because you’ve now become my number one priority. I’ll haveNoa pack some things for you before she leaves, and then we’re driving to the airport.”
Mrs. Stalinski’s tone hardens. “Oh no we are not.”
Shoes clip against the tile as Stone no doubt prowls the room. “This isn’t negotiable. I’m taking you to California to see the best doctors and get the latest treatments and get away from this little town where the local doctor probably still uses leeches to cure blood infections.”
Leech therapy is still a valid form of medical treatment sometimes, but I’m not about to cut in despitethe very real insult he’s lobbed in Falcon Haven’s medical community’s way—which includes me.
“I am thrilled with my doctor, and I’m not about to be forced into a city that I don’t know, in a home I’m uncomfortable in to be poked and prodded at until my son is satisfied that I’m enough of a lab rat to be granted innovative drugs that probably won’t cure me.”
Mrs. Stalinski’s voice grows stronger as she fights. I want to fist pump the air for her going up against Stone’s demands with such calm aplomb.
“I only want what’s best for you and I know for a fact it isn’t here.”
“Indeed, it is. This is my home. My serenity. The place I’m happy to die in.”
“Do not say that?—”
“Then don’t run circles around me pretending that my going to California would only delay the inevitable. The cancer is in my bones, honey. You are the love of my life, and I hate hurting you this way, but my time has come, whether I see one of your famous doctors in Hollywood or remain with the comforts of Dr. Jeanine Silver and her drugs, which I assure you are the same medications I’d receive anywhere.”
“You cannot. This isn’t the end. Ma…”
There it is. The plea of a little boy coming out of a hardened, grown man’s lips, begging for the truth to be a lie. The strangled hope for the Mom of the past to receive him into her arms and assure him this is all a bad dream.
I hold a hand to my lips.
The kettle’s electric whistle pierces the air, giving me a heart attack and cutting off any remaining conversation. Except for my scream.
Stone bursts into the hallway, his bloodshot eyes zeroing in and scanning me head to toe. “Are you all right?”
Cheeks burning, I rush to the stove and stop the damn kettle. Leave it to my inattention to ruin a crucial moment between mother and son so I could eavesdrop.
I feel rather than see Stone’s colossal form hovering in the kitchen. The back of my nape tingles under his scrutiny. It takes all the acting chops I have to go about pouring and steeping the tea as if he’s not there.
“Did you hear most of that?”
His gruff question makes my shoulders stiffen.
