I scan the room. Her floral fabric sofa furniture is spotless, as is the glass coffee table in front of us. No finger smears on the windows, and the fan above is devoid of any dust bunnies on its blades.
“It looks like your weekly cleaners do a fine job.”
“I wouldn’t expect any less from Jean and Nelson. They do wonderful work outside with my lawn and garden, too.”
I pull my head back so I can study her better. “I see no problem.”
“I’m not talking about my home, hon.”
“Then I need more information.”
“You remember that Carter boy, the one who was always beating up the neighborhood kids?” she hedges.
“I do.” I draw out the words as my mind works to recall past events. “He should be about eighteen now. Took over my detention record at Falcon Haven high.”
“That’s right.”
“And he has to do with this because…”
“He quit his job at Talon Ranch to pursue a wrestling scholarship at Duke.”
“Is that right?” My surprise is honest. I figured that boy would be doing jail time by now.
“Turned his life right around. We’re all proud of him.”
“Well. Good for him.”
“But Rome’s having a heck of a time filling in his role, what with all the kids back in school.”
My right eye twitches, not entirely enjoying where this conversation is going. “Ma, I am not a stable hand.”
“Not anymore, but you were quite the skilled worker as a boy.” She pats me lightly on the arm, then rubs it. Her go-to manipulation tactic. “It wouldn’t be permanent, and you could do with some honest work now that you’re aiming to get away from all that destructive behavior.” She adds sweetly, “That’s what you’re doing here, aren’t you? Re-writing your reputation?”
“I was thinking I’d spend more time with my mother, actually.”
“You can do that, too, honey.” She pats me again, like she’s placating a riled stallion. “This would only be part-time. A few hours in the morning.”
“Not that I’m entertaining this ideaat all, but how early are we talking about?”
“About four, so you can help haul in the feed to the Merc store.”
I pause. “The only four o’clock I know is the one where the janitor staff tells me to leave so they can clean my office.”
“Mm-hmm. And how has your all-night working been going for you?”
I stand, pacing away. “You’re not psychoanalyzing me. Not now, when I’ve only recently been told about your health, endured a lecture from Aaron, and given a ridiculous amount of ammunition to Ravynn.”
“That girl.” Ma curls her lip. I smile grimly at her immediate repulsion of my one-week regret. “Not that I’m about to use her as a valid defense to your current behavior.”
My lips thin.
“You’d be doing Rome—and Maisy—a great service, and she’s been a wonderful friend to me during this horrible time.”
Ma folds her hands into her lap, allowing the meaning of her words to sink in.
My vision narrows. “You’re using your cancer to get me to do this.”
“I sure as heck am.”
