“You are.” I ease back from her, if only so she can see my face and know I mean what I’m saying. “You’re all those things to me. To Katie, too. I can’t imagine taking care of her without you, Mom.”
She gives me a watery smile. “Oh, honey. You’re my joy, you know that? That precious little girl upstairs is all my hopes for what Jennifer might have been, but you’re my heart.”
“Are you trying to make me cry now, too?”
She giggles around a wet sniffle, bringing her hand up to cradle the side of my face. “I love you, my sweet Mellie-Belle.”
She hasn’t called me that since I was Katie’s age. Hearing it now is the balm I need after the way my world has seemed to tilt on its axis these past several days. “I love you, too, Mom.”
She pats my cheek, then settles back against her chair on a sigh. Her eyes are still moist, her skin a bit too sallow for my peace of mind. “Do you suppose I have time for a quick nap before I help you with dinner, sweetheart?”
“Sure. If you like, I’ll wake you when we’re ready to eat.”
“Oh, that’d be nice. Thank you, Melanie.” She takes her time standing up, using the edge of the table for balance. When I move to assist, she shakes her head. “I’m fine, I’m fine. All that fresh air today’s making me sleepy, that’s all.”
As if to reassure me, she straightens and carries her empty glass to the sink. I’d like to believe it’s only a day spent outdoors that’s got her looking so exhausted, but I can’t shake the pang of concern in my breast as I watch her step out of the kitchen.
I turn back to finish cleaning the cooler so I can put it away, and not a second later a loud crash sounds in the living room.
“Mom?” Dropping everything, I hurry out, my heart in my throat.
And for good reason.
She’s lying on the floor where she fell, her book and glasses scattered beside her next to the end table she knocked over when she collapsed.
“Mom!”
I fly to her side. Above me upstairs, I hear Katie’s footsteps pounding for the steps. She comes halfway down and sees the situation. Her frightened shriek sounds like the one I feel building in the center of my chest.
“Grandma!” she cries.
I have my ear down on my mother’s breast, trying desperately to hear if her heart is still beating, if she’s still breathing. I drag my head away only long enough to meet my niece’s terrified stare.
“Katie, my phone is in my purse in the kitchen. Get it and call 9-1-1 for me right away, okay?”
She nods, snapping into action with a calm that’s remarkable for her age. As she nears the spot where I’m stuffing a sofa pillow under my mother’s head and reaching for more to place under her legs to elevate them, Katie pauses.
Her voice is as stark as her face. “Is Grandma going to—”
I don’t let her finish the thought, mostly because I can’t bear to consider it.
“Grandma needs a doctor right away, sweetie. Go make the call. We have to hurry.”
19
JARED
She ghosted me.
I can’t say I’m surprised. I can’t even say I blame her. If she didn’t think I was a first-rate jackass before, I’m sure she must now. However, none of that does a thing to improve my dark mood over Melanie’s absence for our Monday morning appointment to return to my studio.
“Shall I cancel the flight charter for today, sir?”
Gibson’s polite inquiry interrupts the track I’m wearing into the rug in my study with my aggravated pacing. I grumble something unintelligible even to my own ears and give him a curt, affirmative wave. He nods politely, then closes me inside my cage to brood some more.
Because of her anxiety in the helicopter, I had arranged for a small private jet to fly us to Sagaponack today instead. Call it an olive branch, if not an overdue apology. It seemed the least I could do to make Melanie feel more comfortable with me, less afraid.
Not acting like a raving madman and a volatile, drunken prick might have gone a long way toward that effort, too.
