“Not often. We don’t get a lot of people in from out of town, and most locals have usuals. She knows those like the back of her hand. But when someone orders something different? It happens about half the time. I’ve tried to get her to carry a notepad to write it down, but it’s something new, so it doesn’t stick too often.”
“I can pay for the wasted meals.”
“Honestly? You know how people in Wild Bluffs are. Everyone knows what she’s going through, and unless someone has an allergy or an extreme dislike for something, they usually just go ahead and eat whatever they get.”
“You’ll let me know if it gets to be too much?”
“Sure,” he says, his eyes focusing on a spot over my shoulder.
He won’t. Even before his eyes gave him away, I knew the real answer. Bill and Mildred have been like grandparents to me since I was an infant playing behind the counter of their restaurant while my mom waited tables. Years later, I sat at that same counter doing my homework, getting help with math from Bill, and having Mildred proofread my essays. They saw my drive to get out of this town and never failed to provide me with the support I needed. Looking back, I see just how much they supported my mom during that time too.
“Thanks, Bill,” I say. I’m not someone who likes to vocalize my feelings, but I owe a lot to Bill. So, for him, I’m willing to force the words out.
He takes a deep breath. “Don’t thank me just yet. I do need to talk to you about something. It’s not a big problem now, but when you get back, we’re going to need to talk about cutting her afternoon hours.” He holds up a hand. “Not because I don’t want her here, but because she’s starting to get tired in the afternoons. She’ll be fine while you’re gone, but once you’re back, we need to consider it.”
“She won’t do well with the change.”
“She doesn’t do well when she’s tired. She gets easily confused and is starting to get more visibly frustrated by little things.”
“I’ll tell Trent I can’t go.”
“I didn’t realize you were in a position to lose your job,” Bill shoots back.
The downside of sharing details about your life with people? They then know things about your life and can use them against you. Likethe fact that I’m worried about money. The Army made sure I didn’t have any school loans, despite attending one of the most prestigious colleges back east, but my mom’s best option for treatment was a trial medicine outside of what her insurance would cover. Paying for everything over the last three years has drained almost every drop of savings either of us had. What she brings in from work barely covers her cost of living, so it’s up to me to cover everything else.
“He’ll listen to me,” I say, though it’s with little conviction.
“Didn’t you already talk to him about it? And he insisted you be the one to go?”
“Yes. He doesn’t want to leave Julie alone for that long.” I sigh. “He already bought her a new car to make up for being gone a few days when he joins me on the road.”
A smile flicks across Bill’s worn face. “She sure does know how to get what she wants, that one.”
I nod. Julie grabbed Trent by the balls the day they met almost a year and a half ago—not caring the man at the bar was almost ten years her senior—and hasn’t let go since. They had the most ostentatious mountain wedding you’ve ever seen this past summer, inviting almost no one from our little town to come celebrate with them. I had the distinct displeasure of making the invite list, though my mom wasn’t invited due to her strained relationship with Trent’s and my shared DNA donor.
As both his half brother and his employee, I felt I had to attend. I regretted my decision the entire night as I was strangled by my black tie while trying my best to avoid Julie’s sorority sisters.
“Well, I’m sure your mama will be out with your food soon,” Bill says as he stands. “But don’t worry about her while you’re gone. Enjoy your time traveling around the world with that Harper girl. Which one is it again? I can never seem to keep them straight.”
The gleam in his eye suggests otherwise, but I answer him anyway. “Kelsey.”
“Right.” The playful look in his eyes is now joined by a grin, and I’ve never been so pleased to see my mom as she pushes out of the back with a plate of food.
“Thanks again, Bill.”
He nods, turning to leave as my mom slides my plate of food in front of me. My usual three scrambled eggs with avocado and toast on the side stare up at me from the beige oval plate.
“How are you feeling today, Mom?” I ask as I shovel a bite of eggs into my mouth.
“I’d feel much better if you didn’t worry about me all the time,” she grouses. “I managed to raise you by myself when I was only eighteen. I sure think I can handle a few lapses in memory at fifty-two.”
I narrow my eyes at her but decide not to point out that it’s more than a few lapses in memory at this point. I’ve taken over paying her bills after she forgot to pay for her electricity two months in a row. She would’ve had her power cut off if not for an old classmate of mine giving me a call to let me know what was going on. When she saw my sperm donor and his wife at the grocery store last week, she forgot the name of Trent’s mom, despite their entwined histories of both being impregnated by the same boy from their class less than three months apart.
“Are you excited for your trip?” she asks, intentionally changing the subject.
It’s one of the hardest parts about the disease, not knowing what she will remember at any given moment. I’m dreading the day she forgets my name, though I know it will be here before the end. She forgets a food order between the table and the counter but remembers I’m headed out on tour with Jaxon Steele, which I mentioned weeks ago. It’d be hard on anyone, and for someone like me who relies on knowing what to expect, it’s an added layer of stress. Fortunately, I love routine and have found Mom’s reliance on them to be just as beneficial for me as they are for her.
“I am. I haven’t had the opportunity to travel much that wasn’t on the Army’s dime.”
