With a second dressing packet pinned between my teeth, I pause and shoot her a look. “Nightlife? In this town?”
She waves away my argument. “Now, now, it’s not that small. There are several fun-looking places on that cute courthouse square.”
Cute? “I suppose.”
Papers shuffle. “It’s been a year, Knox.”
My stomach muscles pull. “Not quite.”Theday is x-ed in black on my mental calendar.
“Fine, if you want to quibble, but you do get my point?”
I squeeze the golden dressing in streaks across the lettuce. “I get it.”
“At least find a church for a few weeks. You’re going to be here a while yet.”
Don’t remind me.Granted, Judy’s super helpful suggestion for Sundays is more in line with the me she knows. I haven’t been much of a nightlife guy since my college years, barely then, and definitely not since Becca.
“So. How are your digs? All the comforts of home?” I should have asked before now.
The other guys haven’t realized it yet, but I had a talk with Rand a couple weeks ago and got him to approve a nicer hotel for Judy. If they did know, they’d probably cry sexism. They might even be right, but at almost sixty, Judy shouldn’t have to stay at a borderline dump populated with a bunch of construction guys, linemen, and oilfield workers, the main clientele of the place housing the rest of our bunch.
Judy’s unusually long silence registers, making me glance.
She folds her hands on the desk. “About that, Knox. Home, I mean.”
A bad feeling worms through my empty gut. Judy holds this construction site office together. She’s been with LHS for two decades.
I lay the sticky packet aside and grab a napkin to wipe dressing off my thumb. “Okay, what’s up?”
“You know my mom has dementia, right?”
I nod.
“Well, her memory is worsening daily, and she’s getting crankier all the time. She and my sister clashed a lot when they were younger, and some of their old battles are reemerging.Mom’s filter is basically gone, and my sister, who’s been caring for her, is fit to be tied.”
My hands fall to the side. “You want to go home.” No need to tack a question mark onto that one.
“I’m sorry, Knox. With it being the holiday season and not knowing what next Christmas will bring…”
Crud.I retrieve a smile and force it out. “I understand completely. You’ve talked to Rand?”
She nods, her silver-streaked hair barely moving. She’s ridiculously put together for a construction site. “I’m leaving on Friday. He’s seeing about a replacement even as we speak.”
I roll open the drawer over the chair and pick up the fork I run under hot water after every lunch in. I toss the lettuce, dressing, and whatnot about. “Any idea who he’s going to send.”
Yet another pregnant pause further damages my appetite. I dare a follow-up peek, not liking what I find.
She bites her lip. “He mentioned Vicki from accounting.”
I still the fork mid-toss. “The redhead?” The roaring cougar?
“Sorry, Knox. That’s why I wanted to tell you sooner rather than later.”
Judy would understand if I let loose the sigh I’m feeling, but I don’t want to make her feel bad about doing what she needs to do—abandoning me to care for her mother. How dare she, right?
I smile and spear a hunk of lettuce. “Thanks for the heads up. I’ll call Rand when I’m done eating.”
She nods. “I knew you’d understand. Okay, I’m off to lunch now.” Judy takes her purse from a bottom drawer and hangs it on her shoulder. She stops by my chair. “I am sorry to do this to you, sweetie.” She smacks a motherly kiss on the top of my head and drops a handful of red, green, and silver-wrapped chocolate dollops next to my salad.
