by Nan Dixon
The wrinkle disappeared between her brows. “Yes.”
He leaned in. “Maybe you could plan to spend the night.”
“I’d like that even better.”
“Great.” Maybe helping Carolina would make his worthless feeling disappear.
* * *
CAROLINA WAS STILL smiling from Sage’s goodbye kiss as she entered the hospital. But it slipped a little. Sage had asked again why seeing Dolley had upset her. She’d lied and said she was worried about her mother.
She hated lying to Sage.
Up on her mother’s floor, she waved at the nurses at the nursing station. Teri, one of Mamá’s nurses, beckoned her over.
“Is Mamá all right?”
“She’s having a tough day,” Teri said. “Try to keep her calm.”
She clutched the edge of the counter. “Did she have a seizure?”
“No. But she complained the light was going strange. That’s sometimes a precursor to a seizure.” Teri patted Carolina’s clenched fist. “She was due for her meds, so that seemed to stop it. But they’re still trying to regulate her dosage.”
“I’ll try not to upset her.”
This wasn’t the time to tell Mamá she was going to sing at the restaurant. And no way would she tell her mother that she’d met another Fitzgerald. She shivered. Dolley thought she looked like a cousin on her father’s side of the family? Carolina had cousins in addition to her half sisters. People she’d never met.
She pushed through the door. Mamá was flipping through People magazine, while the television played in the background. Her pink dressing gown was a nice contrast to her rich, dark hair.
“You look so pretty.” Carolina kissed her cheek. The flowers she’d bought a few days ago looked sad and tired.
“I don’t look pretty.” Her mother tossed the magazine and it slid to the floor. She pointed to a black mark behind her ear. “They tattooed me!”
Carolina came closer. “It’s not that big. Your hair will hide it.”
“You should have been there. They made me lie on the table. Permanent tattoos.” Her mother’s hands waved around. “I wore a mask and couldn’t move. It was horrible. And I can’t dye my hair. How can they tell me what to do with my hair? It will probably fall out again.”
“Take a deep breath,” Carolina warned.
“I want to leave. I want to walk on the beach.” Mamá picked at the ruffle on her gown. “Why weren’t you with me?”
“I had to work.” Carolina pulled the guest chair over to the bed. It squealed on the floor.
“Stop.” Mamá covered her ears. “It hurts.”
“I’m sorry.” Carolina tried to stay calm, taking her mother’s hand.
Mamá shoved her away. “I don’t want to be here.”
“I know.” Exasperation made her voice shrill. Carolina took a breath, seeking tranquility. They both needed to calm down. What would take her mother’s mind off being in the hospital? “I’m... I’m going to sing at the restaurant.”
Her mother looked at Carolina. “Sing?”
Carolina cringed. She hadn’t planned on saying anything. “We’re still working out the details.”
“For the Fitzgeralds?” Mamá spat the name out like it was poison.
“I’ll make more money.” And she was living free in the apartment—not that Mamá knew that—all because Abby was kind.
“They kept what should have been ours!” Her mother’s hand slapped the sheets. “Where’s my bird?”
The chair squeaked again as Carolina dashed to get the bird off the shelf. “Here.”
“When are you going to bring me something else?” Her mother stroked the bird like it was a puppy.
“I can’t. I work there.” She sat on her mother’s bed and tucked her shaking hands under her legs.
“I deserve something. Bring me something.” Her mother’s blue eyes narrowed. Her voice rose like a grand crescendo. “You said there were more birds. Bring me more birds.”
“That’s stealing.” Carolina lowered her voice, hoping her mother would follow suit.
“They have it all. They have the cuff links I gave your father and my globe. Poppy’s globe.” Mamá picked at her dressing gown. “I want them back. I want my globe back.”
“Please calm down.”
Her mother kept picking at her gown. “Get me something.”
Picking at her clothes led to full-blown seizures. Carolina pushed the call button. “I’ll see what I can do. Please relax. Deep breaths. I’ll... I’ll get you something.”
“Tomorrow.” Her mother inhaled and exhaled, but her fingers worried the ruffle of her dressing gown. “I want what’s mine.”
“I know.” Where was Teri? “Mamá, sing with me.” She grasped for a song, any song. “Let’s sing ‘A Dormir va la rosa.’ You always sang me to sleep with it.”
Carolina inhaled. “‘A dormir va la rosa de los rosales...’”
Her mother joined in, her alto blending with Carolina’s soprano.
“‘Y a dormir va mi niño porque ya es tarde.
Este niño chiquito no tiene cuna.
Su padre es carpintero le va a hacer una.’”
Teri stopped in the doorway. Her mouth dropped open.
Mamá closed her eyes and sang. The picking stopped.
When they finished, Teri clapped. “You have beautiful voices. What can I do for you?”
“She was picking at her clothes,” Carolina said.
Confusion muddied Mamá’s face. “I... I what?”
“Sometimes before a seizure, you pick at your clothes.” Teri checked the IV and the monitor. “It seems singing can help. I wish the whole hospital could hear you.”
“I used to sing.” Mamá settled back into the pillows. “My daughter will be singing at the Fitzgerald House restaurant.”
“Well, you both sound incredible.” Teri made notes. “I think the crisis has been averted.”
For now.
“I’m tired.” Her mother closed her eyes. “Don’t forget what you promised.”
Carolina sank into her chair. Why did her mother do this to her?
She had to come up with a solution that would keep her mother stress-free and wouldn’t involve stealing.
* * *
AT THE BAR that night, Carolina pulled another beer for a customer. She still hadn’t come up with a solution that would keep her mother calm and didn’t involve stealing from the woman she was coming to admire.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asked her customer.
“How about a date?” The man looked old enough to be her grandfather.
“I couldn’t handle you,” she teased. But she moved down the counter in case he wasn’t kidding. Yuck.
“Barkeep, got something to quench my thirst?” Sage slid onto a barstool.
His voice did yummy things to her body. She leaned over. “Do you want ginger ale or a beer?”
“One of the seasonals.” Their lips touched and her stress slipped away. “How’s your mother? Any better?”
Her shoulders sagged. She wanted to ask Sage’s advice—but hello. As an FBI agent, he wouldn’t understand her mother asking for things from Fitzgerald House. “Mamá was so upset, I thought she would have another seizure.”
“But she didn’t?”
“No, thank goodness.” She headed to the taps and pulled his beer.
“What was she upset about?” His green eyes held so much sympathy. Would it still be there if he knew her mother wanted her to steal from the Fitzgeralds?
“She wants to go home.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth. Carolina shifted on her feet. “I started singing and that helped.”
He frowned. “She has her first radiation treatment tomorrow, right?”
“Yes.” She bit her
lip. “But only if she doesn’t have another seizure.”
“I can sit with you if you want,” he volunteered.
“You’d be bored.”
His voice grew deep and low. “I’m never bored with you.”
Everything inside her melted. “I would love it if you could come, but you don’t have to stay.”
A woman held up her empty glass. Carolina nodded and pushed away from the counter. She had a job to do. She mixed the woman a Southern Comforts Tea, Abby’s version of a Long Island Iced Tea. And took the woman’s twenty-dollar bill.
Naomi was at the cash register, so Carolina waited to make change. Naomi’s black T-shirt had Fitzgerald House printed on the back.
Carolina asked, “Are we getting more shirts?”
“I picked this up in the gift shop. Abby said it was okay to wear.” Naomi glanced at her shirt and whispered, “It shows off my ladies more and ups my tips.”
Carolina chuckled as she made change for the twenty. “I didn’t know there was a gift shop.”
“It’s in Fitzgerald House across from the registration desk,” Naomi said. “Abby has recipes you can buy and, of course, Fitzgerald paraphernalia.”
The coins in Carolina’s hands slipped to the floor. She knelt and scooped them up. This might be the answer. Trying to be as casual as possible, she asked, “What kind of things do they sell?”
“You know, postcards, soap, T-shirts, the robes they stock in the rooms. I want one of those. Mugs and glasses. Stuff like that.”
This was the answer. She handed the woman her change. She could satisfy her mother without getting fired.
* * *
CAROLINA RAN TO the main house and entered the sparkling green-and-gold-marble foyer. The flowers on the table were sunny and bright. Envy churned in her belly. Her half sisters had all this.
But they didn’t live in the mansion. It was where they worked.
A couple stood at the small front desk while a young woman helped them. Carolina spotted the gift shop and wandered in. Why hadn’t she’d noticed this the day of her interview? She could have bought something here.
She checked the time. She had ten minutes before she had to head to the hospital.
There were mugs and glasses with the Fitzgerald House logo. She checked the price on a wineglass and winced. She still had to worry about Mamá’s bills. On another shelf were teacups and saucers, hand painted with Savannah flowers and scenes. She flipped through cards made from pictures of the B and B and Savannah, but Mamá wouldn’t want those. And there were orchids. She read the tag. Bess, the sister she hadn’t met, propagated the gorgeous plants.
In a linen section were towels and robes. She brushed a hand against the soft fabric.
What would satisfy Mamá?
She gravitated back to the teacups. She could tell Mamá they were used for afternoon tea. If she bought a set, she could dole them out. Or she could give her a robe, but they were expensive.
“Can I help you?” the young woman from the front desk asked.
“I’m looking for something to...to cheer up my mother. She’s in the hospital.”
“I know you.” The woman smiled. “You’re the new bartender.”
Carolina blinked. “Yes.”
“You moved from Nashville for your mother?”
“Yes.” Carolina swallowed. How did she know so much about her?
“I’m Amy. Naomi’s my cousin.” She dug through a drawer. “Maybe she would like some sachets. Hospitals smell awful. Bess makes all the potpourri and sachets for the B and B.”
“That’s a great idea.” Carolina sorted through the fragrances. “Lavender, I think. And even though she might not be able to use them, two of the teacups and saucers.”
“I love those.” Amy walked over to the tea sets. “Which ones were you thinking?”
She picked out one with azaleas and one with blooming dogwoods. “These.”
“Good choices.” Amy wrapped the cups in layers of tissue paper and put them in a Fitzgerald House bag. Carolina handed over her credit card.
“I hear you’ll be singing at the restaurant.”
The grapevine was working overtime gossiping about her. “I’m not sure when I’ll start.”
“I can’t wait. It’s so great working at Fitzgerald House. One day I’m serving breakfast, the next, working a catering event.” Amy gushed. “I’ve even done some of the parties over in the restaurant. The sisters are wonderful and I can work around my school schedule.”
Of course they’re great. They had an easy life.
It was her mother’s voice in her head.
Abby worked hard, always rushing between the B and B and the restaurant.
“I hope your mother feels better.” Amy handed her the bag. “If you ever want to grab a drink, let me know. Naomi has my number. We can sit on the patio—I love looking at Bess’s gardens.”
“Thank you,” Carolina choked out through the lump in her throat. Had she ever been around so many people who wanted to help? Abby let her stay in the apartment. Sage planned to come to the hospital for her mother’s treatment. And Amy offered to have a drink with her. “I... I hope I see you again.”
“You will.” Amy grinned.
Carolina stopped at the apartment and dropped off one of the tea sets. Then she put the other set, along with the lavender sachet, into her tote. Hopefully the gifts would calm her mother.
When she entered the hospital, Sage was waiting in the lobby, smiling.
Tingles overloaded her body and stole her breath. She could barely walk with the way her body short-circuited.
“Good morning.” He cupped her face and kissed her.
“Morning,” she murmured.
He peeked into her bag. “You brought gifts for your mother? I should have brought her something.”
“That’s not necessary.” Her words strung together like saltwater taffy being stretched at the fair. “My mother’s...fascinated with Fitzgerald House. I bought her stuff from the gift shop.”
“I could pick up flowers in the hospital gift shop.”
“That would be sweet.” And she could give her mother the things she’d brought. Oh, Lord. What if her mother said something about stealing from Fitzgerald House? Maybe she should wait. “I’ll meet you in her room. You remember where it is?”
“I’ll be right up.” Sage stroked a finger across her forehead. “Don’t look so worried. Hopefully the radiation treatments will help.”
She did hope that. But she was also worried her mother would say something about the Fitzgeralds and make it sound like Carolina had stolen these gifts.
When she pushed open her mother’s door, Teri was holding out a form to her mother. “This is the authorization for the radiation therapy. You have to sign it.”
Her mother rubbed her head.
“Mamá, do you want me to read it?” Carolina asked.
“Please,” Mamá cried. “It hurts to read.”
Carolina took the form from Teri. “I’ll bring it to the nursing station after it’s signed.”
“Thanks.” Teri gave her a relieved smile. How long had Teri been trying to get her mother to sign the paperwork?
Carolina read the form. Her hands trembled from the warnings and precautions. Stroke. Hair loss. Nausea. Brain swelling. Paralysis. And, of course, seizures. Wasn’t that why they were doing the radiation—to control the seizures?
But she trusted Dr. Laster.
“The paperwork gives me a headache.” Her mother gave out a tired laugh after signing the form.
“You made a joke.” They were rare in her mother’s world right now.
Carolina set her tote on the bed. “I brought you something.”
“From Fitzgerald House?” Her mother clapped her hands.
Carolina shot a look around the
room; luckily they were alone.
Her mother pulled out the sachet and inhaled. “Do they use these in the rooms?”
“Of course,” Carolina lied. She didn’t know where they used the sachets.
“I love it!” Mamá ripped away tissue and held up the teacup. A smile filled her face. “I bet they use these for afternoon tea. Who’s got it now?” her mother rasped. “Me!”
“Hush. There are people around.” She didn’t want her mother crowing that she’d stolen the teacup and saucer. “Don’t say...anything.”
Her mother’s smile was sly. “Of course not. I wish I could have a cup of tea now.”
“I’ll make you a cup after your treatment.”
“You make it sound like I’m having a facial,” her mother grumbled, but she sniffed the sachet.
“I thought you could put it under your pillow.”
“It’s nice. What is that scent?”
Teri walked in as her mother asked the question.
“Lavender,” Carolina said.
“I don’t remember lavender smelling like this.” Her mother frowned.
“Your tumors may be affecting your sense of smell.” Teri leaned over and sniffed. “That’s nice.”
“I didn’t get a chance to bring the authorization form out to you.” Carolina handed the clipboard to Teri. “It’s signed.”
“Thanks.” Teri patted Mamá’s arm. “A tech will be along soon. Take deep breaths and relax.”
As Teri left, Sage came in, holding a vase of flowers.
Mamá straightened. “Who are you?”
“A friend of your daughter’s.” Sage’s voice was smooth and soothing. “I waited with her the first night you came to the hospital. I guess we haven’t been introduced. I’m Sage Cornell.”
Mamá fluffed her hair. “Rosa Castillo.”
“It’s nice to see you awake, Mrs. Castillo.” Sage set the flowers on the rolling table. “For you.”
Carolina stiffened, but her mother didn’t correct the assumption that Mamá had been married.
“Thank you. They’re lovely.” Her mother looked up at Sage through her eyelashes. “How do you know my daughter?”
“Mamá,” Carolina warned.
Before Sage could answer, an orderly came in with a wheelchair. Her mother slipped out of bed and sat like it was a limousine.
