“My mother. She has…” I clear my throat. “She has cancer.”
Aaron is silent for a few seconds. “Shit. I’m so sorry.”
“She’s not going to be all right,” I say, even though Aaron didn’t ask if she was. Maybe I’m mentioning it because I have yet to believe its truth. “It’s spread, and she may only have a few months.”
“That’s fucking terrible. How are you holding up?”
“As good as expected. In an ironic twist of fate, my high school sweetheart is her nurse.”
“Is that right?” Too late, I sense Aaron’s wheels spinning, and I regret the confession.
“Aaron, I’m telling you this as my friend, not my head of HR.”
“Yes, obviously, but…”
“No.”
“Hear me out.”
“Not a chance.” I pull the phone away from my ear.
“This is your redemption story!” Aaron shouts through the speaker before I can hang up. “You’ve gone home to take care of your ailing mother with your high school sweetheart, forsaking business in the name of family. This could looksogood for you. And before you attempt to strangle me through the phone for being so crass—which admittedly, I am—I’m your guy. I can’t ignore this in good conscience. This could absolve you of your controversial behavior for the last tenyears, never mind last week.”
“I refuse to use my mother as a news piece. End of story.”
“All right, all right, I understand.” Yet I can still hear him thinking. “How about the ex angle? I can check her out, make sure she’s as sweet as a small-town girl should be. That could absolutely compete with anything Ravynn says about you.”
“I’m not using Noa as an angle against my poor decisions, either. Ravynn is my issue, not hers.”
“You’re upset. I don’t blame you. How about I give you some time to really think about this and what it could do for you? Be with your mother and take all the time you need. But sometimes the truth is better than fiction, and with how close you are to imploding what you’ve worked so hard for, you have to be smart about this. Please.”
I grind my teeth while staring out the circlet window in the hall. Evergreens behind the street tower over the smaller, color changing oaks, but those sunset leaves draw the eye even under a larger shadow. “I’ve never spoken publicly about my past or my family and I don’t intend to now.”
Aaron releases a disappointed sigh. “Let me help you. Your rough patch just got a lot bumpier. I’d like to see some good come out of it. As your friend, I’d like the big pharma to see youfor who you really are. I’ve heard from our CFO they’re getting antsy, using you for the takeover.”
I sneer at the idea that Aaron knows more about my business than me. “I’ll talk with Edwin myself. Right now, I’m a brokenhearted son and our clients have no right to see that.”
Pause. “Fine. But you do not make my job easy.”
“And another thing. I’m probably not coming back for a while.”
Another pause. “How long’s a while?”
“I don’t know. My mother needs me. Noa’s been handling this herself, and I don’t feel comfortable with that, either. Things are … complicated, and I’d like to stay until I figure some things out.”
“Take all the time you need.” Aaron’s tone brightens. “I can work the getting back to your roots, small-town reminiscing angle. I’ll keep in touch regarding any news and truly, Stone, I wish you all the best with your family. I’m so sorry about your mom.”
Aaron’s genuine sentiment cleans away some of the dirt left on me after his suggestion of using Ma as an angle. “I’ll call you.”
Noa’s faraway tone becomes frantic. I tear my gaze away from the fall foliage and frown.
“Talk soon,” I finish saying to Aaron, then hang up and stride downstairs and into the kitchen.
I’m not sure what I thought I’d find, maybe a grease fire or a spill or a pissed-off cat ripping into a can of sardines, but I wasn’t expecting Noa facing off with my mother, hands on her hips and an expression somehow being both stern and horrified.
I glance between the two of them, Ma sitting primly on a barstool and Noa’s body practically vibrating with the need to unleash beside her.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
