Shelter Me

by Allyson Charles

  No one looked convinced. But Sarah had her own mind; what the hell could they do?

  “I’ll get a buddy of mine to do a more in-depth background on him. Pound on his neighbors’ doors. That kind of thing.” Joe pulled out his phone and started texting.

  James’s own phone buzzed. Pulling it out, he saw his dad’s number and silenced it. “Ellie, why don’t you talk to her? She won’t listen to me about Harry. And she probably doesn’t want to hear it from her brothers.”

  She snorted. “She won’t want to hear anything from her ‘baby sister.’ But I’ll try.”

  “He can’t stay forever, right?” Conner asked. He was met with uneasy silence.

  James’s phone buzzed again. He stood. “I’ve got to go. Let me know if you want any help with a removal.”

  He answered the phone as he stepped out onto the raised wooden sidewalk. “Hi, Dad. No, tell Taina not to cook. I’m bringing us dinner home, remember?”

  But of course, his dad hadn’t remembered. He’d had a shock at the doctor’s office, to be sure. Something that would make dinner plans slip anyone’s mind.

  “I’ll see you soon.” James hung up and climbed behind the wheel of his car. Dropping his head on the seatback, James took deep breaths and fought against the burn behind his eyelids.

  He needed to stop asking his father if he remembered things. Because the answer to that would increasingly be no.

  That afternoon the doctor had diagnosed Oswald with Alzheimer’s.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Kneeling on the packed dirt, Sarah pulled her backpack off her shoulders and placed it on the ground before her. She dug out the Tupperware container full of cat food, and poured some into the feeder half hidden by the long grasses that dotted the bluff.

  Ginger strained at her leash, nosing around the feeder, and Oswald tugged her back. “I don’t get why you’re feeding cats that don’t belong to you. Aren’t we trying to get rid of these wild cats? Why feed ‘em?”

  Replacing the container back in her bag, Sarah stood, and swung the pack over her shoulder. “I’d like to eliminate the feral cat population through spaying and neutering, and adopting out the younger cats that can still be domesticated. And unlike some people”—she scowled back at the woman who had been following them since they’d parked on Main Street, taking pictures of their every step—“I don’t want the cats to suffer from hunger.”

  Kimberlee, her hair tied back in a camo print silk scarf, narrowed her eyes before raising her phone for another snap.

  More pictures for Kimberlee’s social media, although what shots of Sarah feeding cats would prove, she didn’t know. There weren’t any laws against it.

  Were there?

  Rats. Why hadn’t she checked with an attorney to make sure Shelter Bay didn’t have a weird law about feeding feral cats? She blew out a breath. Well, she’d find out soon enough. If she was in violation of anything, Kimberlee would be sure to let her know.

  She held out her elbow, and Oswald took her arm. The path along the cliffs was uneven, and Sarah had insisted he hold onto her for support.

  “When does James get back from San Francisco?” He’d called her that morning asking if she could stay with his father during Taina’s mid-afternoon lunch break. So, at three on the dot, Sarah had shown up at Oswald’s house and asked if he wanted to go for a walk.

  They needed to come up with a better system. James couldn’t afford more help, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t figure something out.

  Ginger chased after a small gray streak until her leash pulled her up short. She barked, wanting to continue the chase.

  In hindsight, bringing Oswald and his dog along to feed and look for injured cats wasn’t her smartest idea. The chances of catching one to bring back to her clinic were slim to none with a dog along. The cats were sensibly all in hiding.

  “Who knows with that boy.” Oswald paused and stared out at the ocean. Today, the Pacific lived up to its name, with only the lightest froth of white breaking against the rocks below. “He might never come back for all I know.”

  “He wouldn’t just leave without a word. He’s not like that.” With James, there were many words. Oftentimes not ones you wanted to hear, but walking away in silence wasn’t one of his faults.

  She crouched next to the dog and tried to see the animal he wanted to play with.

  An adorable, furry face met her gaze. The big eyes of the kitten were filled with suspicion. Its fur was matted and clumped.

  “Come here, sweetie.” She tossed a bit of food to the little guy. “It’s cold and dangerous out here. Don’t you want a new home?”

  The kitten took one step forward, two, before snatching up the cat food. Sarah reached for more, but Ginger scrambled forward, knocking her off balance.

  She watched as the kitten raced down the steep hillside and out of sight.

  Ginger whined. Sarah scratched behind her ears. “Don’t worry. I’ll get him next time.”

  Oswald rubbed his thigh. “I’m tired. Can we turn back?”

  “Of course.” Guiding him back the way they’d come, she debated whether she should butt in or stay out of the Marshall men’s lives. The butting in won out. “The other night, I saw the medication you’re taking.”

  “I take lots of pills.” He leaned heavier on her. “Damn drug companies. Who knows if I even need half of what the doc’s got me on?”

  Kimberlee trotted backwards about twenty feet ahead of them. Her heel caught on a rock, and she tumbled over with a shriek.

  Sarah ground her jaw. Did she need to go help her nemesis?

  The woman brushed dirt off her phone, frowned, and clambered to her feet and stomped up the path towards Main Street.

  Good, no help needed. At least one thing was easy today. She turned back to what wasn’t easy. “Oral chemotherapies aren’t indicated for heart attacks. You’re being treated for cancer.”

  They strolled in silence until she was convinced he wouldn’t answer. They made it through the park’s exit and stopped by her car.

  Finally, he sniffed. “Bone cancer. But the doc and I agreed I’d stop taking the drugs. They weren’t working. I only have a couple more months.”

  Sarah closed her eyes. Everyone knew their time on earth was limited, but facing it with such a certain expiration date must be breathtakingly hard. “Does James know?”

  “Nah. What’s to say?” Oswald waved at Janine, the owner of Oceana Soaps. She put her broom down on her store’s front porch to wave back. “The boy’s dealing with enough as it is. We found out I also have Alzheimer’s. Ain’t that a kick in the pants? When it rains, it pours.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Least I’ll be gone before it gets too bad.”

  “Oh, Oswald.” She swiped the back of her hand across her cheek.

  “I didn’t treat him or his mom right, you know? Surprised the hell out of me that he came up here to help after my heart attack.”

  “He loves you.”

  Oswald snorted. “Obligation ain’t love. Though Lord knows the boy doesn’t have anything to feel obligated over.”

  Yes, James had made it clear that he was only helping his father out of a sense of duty, but Sarah didn’t buy it. A person didn’t give up three months of his life, suffer through the frustrations of nursing a sick parent, if love didn’t come into it a little bit.

  “When are you going to tell him?” This would be a blow. She hoped James would let her help him through it. If she could.

  “Well…”

  Sarah faced him. “You have to tell him. This isn’t something that will go away.”

  He patted her hand. “Don’t worry yourself none. James doesn’t want to hear it, and there’s no use in upsetting the apple cart now. He needs to get on back to his life. It’ll be fine.”

  “But…” Sarah pressed her lips together. When was he waiting to notify his son? With a funeral announcement? But she couldn’
t tell James’s father what to do.

  She unlocked her car and helped Oswald settle Ginger into the back. Oswald dropped into the passenger seat. “How about a coffee?” she asked. She could use a dose of caffeine right about now. With a shot of whisky in it.

  “Sounds good.”

  She drove to Expresso, a drive-through coffee hut, and put in their orders, a double espresso for her and a vanilla latte for Oswald.

  He blew on his foamy drink. “Don’t tell anyone I got this girlie coffee. It would ruin my reputation.”

  “You got it, Oswald.” Sarah shook her head and pulled onto the street, hanging a left. Two volunteer firefighters were in front of the open bay doors of the fire station, washing an engine in the driveway. She honked and waved to Connor’s friends.

  “You know them?” Oswald asked.

  “My brother works with them between his adventure guide gigs. They come to dinner at my dad’s house occasionally.” She turned onto the road that led into the hills. They were good men. And in a town the size of Shelter Bay, the fire station was usually pretty quiet. A lot of the guys had time on their hands.

  The beginning of an idea started niggling in Sarah’s brain.

  “You close with your family? Your mom and dad?” Oswald stared out the windshield.

  “My dad, yes.” Her real father anyway. She gripped the steering wheel. “My biological father left my mom when my brother and I were young. Luckily for us, she met my dad, the man who adopted us, about a year later and they married only a couple months after that. He’s always been dad to us.” And he always would be. She couldn’t call Harry the name reserved for her real dad, even if that disappointed him.

  “And your mom?”

  She gripped the wheel. “Three years after they married, my mom and dad were coming home from a party on the base. My dad was Navy at the time. They’d driven in separate cars, and he was following her home.” She swallowed. “He saw the car that ran the red light and T-boned her. She died instantly.” Seconds would have made the difference. Why had she whined to the babysitter to call her parents at just that moment? Why hadn’t she just stayed in bed like she was supposed to?

  “Jesus,” Oswald whispered.

  “Yeah, it was rough. Especially for dad.” Pulling to the curb in front of his house, Sarah cut the engine but made no move to exit the car. “Dad had five kids at that point and knew he needed some help. He resigned his commission and moved us across the country to be close to his sister. She lives just up the coast.”

  “It was nice you had family to help.”

  “It was nice. I grew up in a great town with a lot of support – my aunt has four kids.” She twisted onto her hip to face Oswald. “But even with all that family, all that love, I still felt abandoned. First by my biological dad, then by my mom. Which”—she held up a hand, palm out—“I know is stupid, but a kid can’t help the way she feels.”

  But she was an adult now. Maybe it was time she worked her way through those emotions.

  Oswald shifted, looking uncomfortable, and she got to the point. “I’m telling you this to say that I understand why James feels the way he does. His dad left, and even though you were still in his life, he still felt abandoned. It takes a while to get over that.”

  “So you’re saying there’s no chance for me and my boy.” Ginger poked her head through the seats, and Oswald stroked her ear.

  “No, I’m saying don’t give up. My bio dad left, but now we’re reconnecting.” Or trying to. She was coming to accept it wouldn’t be the relationship she’d wanted, but that was okay. “James has to work through his feelings, but this time together, trying to mend your relationship, is worth everything.”

  Oswald stared out the windshield. “I don’t know if we have time for James to work through his feelings.”

  Sarah sighed and flopped back into her seat. “Yeah.” James was a tough nut to crack. And now there was a horrible deadline. James would regret these missed opportunities with his dad so much when he was gone.

  And as though she’d conjured the man up by thinking about him, James pulled his car into the driveway and climbed out.

  He wore a suit without the jacket, a blue tie knotted messily at his throat. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to mid-forearm, and he rested those arms on the roof of his car as he stared across at them. His face was tired, resigned. His chest rose and fell with a deep sigh before he reached into his car and grabbed his suit jacket from the back seat.

  He slumped his way over to them, looking like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  Sarah’s heart broke. He already had too much to deal with.

  And soon he’d discover just how bad the news was.

  ****

  Sarah, Oswald, and Ginger piled out of her car, each of them giving him a wary look. He must look as shitty as he felt. James dragged his feet to the passenger door to help his dad and grab the dog’s leash. “What have you two been up to?” God, he wanted to hear something good today.

  Sarah rounded the hood, and he reached out and snagged her braid, reeling her in for a kiss. He drank in the taste, the scent of Sarah. When she wasn’t covered in animal slobber or excrement, she smelled of sunshine and spring.

  Sarah leaned back and shot him a smile that stole his breath. “Well, hello to you, too. Your father came with me to feed the feral cats.”

  Another rescue mission. Cupping the side of her face, he brushed his thumb along her cheekbone. She was blindingly optimistic, thinking she could fix the world’s problems. He wished just a little of her attitude would rub off on him.

  Turning, he tugged her and Ginger up the path to the front door. His dad was pulling it open and shouting a hello to Taina. “Can you stay for dinner?” Crap. What was he going to make for dinner? He and his dad had been living off takeout, and even his iron stomach was starting to protest.

  Exhaustion weighted his shoulders. He couldn’t do this much longer. Tele-commuting was no longer an option, and the real commute took too many hours out of his day. With the information he learned today, that wouldn’t be a problem for much longer. His stomach twisted when he thought about his solution.

  “Um, sure, I can stay.” Sarah bit on her bottom lip. “Though maybe you should spend some time alone with your father. I feel like I’ve been monopolizing your company lately.”

  He released Ginger to run into the house, and pulled Sarah to him until the heat of her body warmed him. “The moments here with you have been the only ones that haven’t been horrible. Besides, we don’t have much time together left.”

  “Oh,” Sara said, her voice flat. “You’ve set a departure date.”

  “You finally leaving, boy?” His dad ran crooked fingers along the hem of his cardigan.

  James rolled his shoulders. The time had come. There were realities that his dad had to face. With regret, he released Sarah and turned. “Dad, let’s go to the living room. We need to talk.”

  Sarah looked between the two men. “I didn’t get a chance to examine Ginger’s ear. I’ll take her to the kitchen?”

  James nodded, relieved she wasn’t leaving completely. He wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to escape, but it would be nice to see a friendly face after.

  She patted her thigh, and Ginger trotted after her down the hall. James trudged to the living room, his dad at his heels.

  “What’s this about? You need to get back to your job?” His dad eased down onto his Barcalounger and rested his cane over the armrests. “It’s okay. I always knew you needed to get home.”

  James dropped onto the sofa across from him. “It’s your home I’m worried about.”

  His dad looked around the room. “What about it?”

  James hung his hands between his knees. “I have to get back to San Francisco. I don’t have any more leave. And you can’t stay here alone.”

  He let that last sentence hang out there, hoping beyond hope that his father would
be reasonable. He had to know how much care he required.

  “What the hell do you mean I can’t stay here!” His dad rocked his body back and forth, trying to get out of the chair, before giving up and shaking his cane at James instead. “This is my home. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I know it’s your home. And if I could work it so you could stay here, I would.” He rubbed the back of his neck, but the knot wouldn’t go away. “We can’t afford hiring a full-time nurse to stay with you, which is what you’ll need. But I found a home, pretty close to me, that will take you. And it’s within our price range.” Barely. But it was the best he could do. The place was depressing as fuck. Utilitarian and with a strong smell of bleach and old people. But he’d seen a lot worse in his search for care homes. He’d visit his dad when he could, bring him some shit to hang around his walls. They’d make it work.

  There was no other choice.

  His father wiggled deep into the chair like he could lock himself in. “I’m not leaving. I don’t need a caretaker. I’m a grown-ass adult. You go on home and leave me be.”

  “Dad…”

  “No, boy, I’m serious.” His dad leveled a glare at him, his eyes so familiar it took James’s breath away. He saw the same eyes in the mirror each morning. “I’m grateful for all you’ve done for me. I know I didn’t deserve you dropping everything to come up and take care of me, but I’ve recovered from my surgery and I don’t need help anymore.”

  “You have Alzheimer’s.” He surged to his feet. “That doesn’t get better. You can’t live here alone.”

  “Can so.” His father reached for the remote in the saddle bag on the chair’s arm. He turned on the TV as though the conversation was over.

  Christ. He gripped the back of his neck. “Dad, we’re not done talking.”

  “I am.” He changed the channel to pro wrestling. “And if you try to get me out of my house, you’re going to need a forklift. I ain’t moving.”

  James threw up his hands. “You’re impossible. We don’t always get what we want in life.” He jabbed his finger at his dad. “It’s about damn time you learned that.”