Luke put a finger to his lips, shushing him. “We don’t want to wake the baby. If we do, Stella’s going to let us have it.”
Seeing Luke being such a responsible dad floored him. Funny how one’s life could turn on a dime. Not too long ago, Luke’s life had been in jeopardy after an explosion in Afghanistan. His brother had been retired as a SEAL due to a leg injury, but he’d gained a family of his own as a result. Nick was grateful for second chances. He was hoping life handed him one as well.
Luke was right. Love was his only excuse for being sappy. He was over the moon about Harlow, and he was pretty sure his brother could see it written all over him. He wasn’t really doing much to hide it.
Nick wanted to make things right for Harlow and show her that Mistletoe wasn’t going to hang her out to dry. He wanted Harlow to know that he understood how much these rumors had affected her. Nick needed her to understand that she wasn’t in this alone. Not by a long shot.
Once the issues were resolved surrounding the gossip about Harlow, Nick planned to tell her how he felt about her. And hopefully, with any kind of luck, her feelings mirrored his own.
Chapter Twenty
The following morning, Harlow was driving her rental car along the coastal road to the Bay Shore Rehabilitation Center. Skies were blue and the wind was crisp. She’d needed some time away from Mistletoe, so she could clear her head from all the ugliness swirling around the smear campaign against her, and visiting her mother was way overdue. Pretending that her mother wasn’t losing her fight against dementia served no purpose other than to shield Harlow from being hurt. In the end, she would have to face it and absorb the pain. All she could do now was show her unconditional love and support.
She had the weekend off from work and this morning she’d taken a flight from Maine to Cape Cod in order to see her mother. Maybe she was being paranoid, but she was beginning to wonder if Whitney was going to let her go from Paws. After all, who could blame her? She’d been in town for only a few months and she was bringing the practice’s reputation down. The thought of all the whispers and cancellations made her shudder. Knowing she’d been targeted with false rumors was frustrating and hurtful.
And she couldn’t help but feel frustrated by Nick’s cavalier attitude toward the slow destruction of her career and reputation. It hurt to think he didn’t care or that he was more invested in the town of Mistletoe than in her. She let out a groan. Why had she gotten so tangled up with Nick? From the very beginning, she’d known falling for him wouldn’t serve her long-term interests.
On the bright side, Malcolm was driving up from Boston to join her for the visit.
She felt more confident because they would be making this visit together. Harlow didn’t scare easily, but her mother’s rapid decline terrified her. Dementia was a frightening, debilitating disease that had come out of nowhere and stolen her mother from her and Malcolm.
Although her childhood had been painful at times, there had been joyful moments mixed in with the bad. Her mother didn’t remember those times. Every now and again, Deidre had moments of clarity when she mentioned Harlow’s father and precious memories spent at carnivals and birthday parties, summer vacations and campouts. But Harlow never knew what she was going to experience with her mother, and given her deterioration, it was unlikely she would even recognize her children. No matter what, Harlow still wanted to wrap her arms tightly around her mother and never let go. At her core, she still felt like a little kid who needed her mom.
Fall in Cape Cod was much quieter than spring and summer. All the tourists and warm-weather seekers had gone elsewhere. The vibe was subdued, but incredibly picturesque.
As soon as her plane landed, Harlow had reached out to Malcolm, who was scheduled to arrive at Bay Shore shortly after her. Harlow wanted her and Malcolm to head into the facility together. She knew it was silly, but she didn’t want to see her mother by herself. At moments like this, Harlow leaned on Malcolm for strength.
Harlow battled nerves as they headed inside and were led to the activity room, where residents were gathered. A quick look around the space revealed a variety of activities, such as puzzles, bingo, coloring, and reading. Malcolm gently elbowed her and said, “There she is. Over by the window.” Harlow’s gaze followed Malcolm’s. She felt a hitch in her heart at the sight of her mother gazing through the bay window at the ocean in the distance. She’d always loved the sea, which was one of the reasons they’d chosen Bay Shore. It was Harlow’s fervent hope that her mother knew she was by the ocean and that it gave her comfort.
“Come on, Harlow,” Malcolm said, grabbing her by the hand and leading the way toward their mother.
Deidre Jones was dressed in a pale pink sweater that Harlow had bought her as a birthday present last year. The color looked gorgeous against her mother’s cocoa-colored skin. Despite everything, she was still beautiful, with her high cheekbones and striking features. Just looking at her face in profile brought tears to Harlow’s eyes. Malcolm, seeing her emotion, squeezed her hand.
“Mom,” Malcolm said as a greeting once they’d reached her side. He gently touched her shoulder. “Mom. It’s Malcolm and Harlow.” She continued to gaze out the window without turning her head toward them.
“Hi, Mom,” Harlow said in a louder voice than her brother had used, since she hadn’t reacted to Malcolm’s voice. Nothing but a blank gaze.
Mom, please. I know you’re in there somewhere. Look at me. Say my name.
“Hi there. Are you guys okay over here?” Harlow and Malcolm both turned in the direction of the honey-coated voice. Claire Beck, the head of the unit, was standing behind them. Claire was a dedicated staffer who always made herself available to her and Malcolm for phone calls or Zoom meetings so they could get regular updates.
“Hey, Claire,” Harlow said, greeting the staff member. “How’s she doing?”
“Today hasn’t been the best for Deidre,” Claire answered as she reached out and lightly patted their mother on the shoulder. “Given the rapid progression of her disease, it’s to be expected, but I know it can be difficult to see.”
“So she’s not talking today?” Malcolm asked.
“Not much,” Claire answered, sounding regretful. “Occasionally, we’ll get one-word responses, but it’s doubtful you’ll get a conversation. It’s just the progression of the disease. I know that’s hard to hear.”
Harlow’s heart began to hammer wildly in her chest. Her palms got sweaty and she knew her pulse was racing. Her mother was fading away from them and there was absolutely nothing they could do to fix things. She hated feeling powerless. She had worked so hard with her education and professional career to never feel that way again, yet here she was in this vulnerable position.
“Malcolm, I’m sorry. I need some air.” Without waiting for his reply, she walked back toward the entrance and pushed past the front doors. A blast of cold air greeted her, and she drew a shaky breath. All she could think of was escape. With staggering steps, she made it back to her rental car, pulled the door open, and got in the driver’s seat.
Why did it feel as if a hundred-pound weight was sitting on her chest?
A few seconds later her car door was wrenched open and Malcolm slid into the passenger seat. “Harlow, are you okay? You’re scaring me!”
“I-I can’t breathe,” she said, placing a hand on her chest.
