To Catch a Thief

by Nan Dixon

  Carolina wiped up a spill. “Yes.”

  “I was here last Saturday. You’re incredible. Are you singing tonight?”

  “No.” She laughed. “Only Fridays and Saturdays.” And that would probably end in three weeks.

  “I don’t suppose you do weddings?”

  “I have in the past. What are you looking for? The service or reception?”

  “My mother’s getting married again and I told her I’d organize everything. You sang her kind of music. She loves Johnny Mercer.”

  Lord, this woman had just implied Carolina’s song selection was for older people.

  Someone a couple of stools away held up an empty beer mug. Carolina nodded. “Are you going to be here for a while?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll be back.” She took the customer’s order, drew another beer and placed an order for appetizers.

  Did she want to sing at weddings? It was good money, but she didn’t have a clue what life would be like after she brought Mamá home.

  “What do you think?” the woman asked.

  “When is the wedding?”

  “End of January. Right here at Fitzgerald House. At least I’ve got that booked.”

  Three months. She didn’t know what would be happening that far in the future. “I’m not sure. My mother is...sick.”

  “I’m sorry. I hope she gets better. I know how much my mother means to me.” The blonde shook her head. “It’s a pity. You would have been perfect for my mother’s wedding, but I understand.”

  “Thank you.” She picked up her empty cocktail glass. “Do you want another?”

  The woman checked the time. “It’s still happy hour?”

  Carolina nodded.

  “Sure, I’ll take another.”

  Naomi slipped behind her as she mixed the drink and gave her an elbow. “No sad faces back here.”

  Carolina inhaled. “Right.”

  With people now three deep at the bar, the time flashed by. Carolina poured a glass of ginger ale for herself and took a quick breath. “This is crazy.”

  “I warned Abby we need three bartenders on the weekends.” Naomi tugged one of her dangling star earrings. “But now we’re getting slammed on the weeknights.”

  “This is good news.” And kept her from thinking about her mother, her to-do list, and the fact that Sage was pulling away from her.

  “Hey.” Sage’s voice floated over the counter as if she’d called him up by magic.

  “Hi.” A flicker of joy filled her chest. She leaned forward to give him a kiss.

  He bent and pulled out his stool. Avoided her. His face was hard. Serious.

  “I thought you weren’t coming tonight?” Her voice shook.

  “I ran out of paint.”

  “Oh.” Her hand trembled as she poured his favorite seasonal and set it in front of him. “I don’t know when I can get to a hardware store.”

  Adding picking up paint as another task to her never-ending list might be the straw that broke her back. Tears threatened to fall.

  “I’ll pick it up in the morning. We’ll square things when you have a chance.”

  “Thank you.” It came out a little watery. How would she find the cash to repay him?

  He frowned.

  “Is everything all right?” she blurted out.

  He inhaled. “I talked to my mother.”

  She touched his hand. “Is your family okay?”

  “I’ve...got some things to think about.”

  “Oh.” Was it about their relationship? “Are you going to be here awhile?”

  “Just for a beer.” He pushed his fingers through his hair. “I haven’t cleaned up yet.”

  So they wouldn’t be together again tonight. It wasn’t her imagination. Sage was pulling away.

  * * *

  “WE COULD TRY and carry the desk up the stairs.” Sage eyed the big rolltop desk they’d powered into Rosa’s packed living room. There was barely a path to move around the room.

  “It’s too heavy. I’d rather take up one of the ugly armchairs than deal with the desk.”

  “I can do that.” Sage pointed at a black leather chair. “Grab the cushion.”

  The chair was awkward, but by taking a couple of breathers, he finally got it up to the landing. “Where do you want it?”

  “My mother’s room.” Carolina came around the corner with the cushion balanced on her head.

  He set the chair on the far side of the bedroom. Now furniture packed this room. Rosa’s house was so different from the ranch house. Thinking about home made him think about his mother and dad. Pain coiled in his chest. Not going to think about that.

  Carolina set the cushion on the chair and collapsed on the bed. She didn’t move.

  Something was off with Carolina. At least her problems would take his mind off his dad’s adultery.

  He crouched next to her, looking into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Why do you think something’s wrong?” She stared at her twisting hands.

  “Because you won’t look at me.” He stilled her hands. “You won’t talk to me. Are you upset?”

  “Why didn’t you stay with me last night?” Her slim shoulders went up and down. “Or ask me to stay with you?”

  He couldn’t tell her about his father. “I needed time alone.”

  She stared into his eyes like she could see into his soul. Her voice was thready. “I miss you.”

  He brushed her hair back and cupped her cheek. “I’m right here.”

  “Are you?” She swallowed. “We haven’t made love since before I started singing at the restaurant.”

  “I... I...” He sank next to her on the bed. They hadn’t? “You came to my place.”

  “We didn’t make love.”

  Oh. “We’ve had a lot going on.”

  And yesterday’s call with his mom had knocked him off his feet. How could Dad have screwed around on Mom? He kept putting himself in his mom’s place. What if there had been a child from his affair? What if the child decided to work on the ranch? Resentment struck him like a rattlesnake, swift and deadly.

  But this was Carolina. The woman he loved. “I’m sorry.”

  Her blue eyes swam with tears. “Do you want to talk about whatever is bothering you? Is it me? Us?”

  “No.” He pulled her close. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I needed some thinking time.”

  “Okay.” She sighed. “My mother comes home in three days. We’re running out time.”

  “I know.” He cradled her head into his chest. “After you sing tonight, do you want to come to my place?”

  “Yes.” Her whole body answered by melting into his.

  He rocked her. Had he pulled away because she hadn’t been honest with him? Hadn’t trusted him? Unfortunately now, he empathized with what the Fitzgeralds must be going through.

  He wished his father was alive so he could ask what he would do. But that ship had sailed. Now he wondered, What would Mom think?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “CAN I GET you anything?” Carolina set the flowers Mamá’s boss had sent to the hospital on the console table she and Sage had brought into Poppy’s study.

  “I don’t want to sit in bed.” Mamá slid off the hospital bed hospice had delivered. “I want to go on the porch and feel the breeze on my face.” Her mother winked. “And watch that hot young stud of yours work.”

  Please don’t say things like that around Sage. “Then let’s get you settled.”

  She cupped her mother’s elbow.

  “I’m not an invalid.” Mamá shook her off. “I’m just dying.”

  Carolina froze, her heart brittle enough to shatter. “I know.”

  She’d hoped coming home would help her mother get back to normal. But apparentl
y that wouldn’t happen.

  In the living room, Mamá trailed her hand along the sofa. “Can’t you move that ugly desk? It ruins the sleek look.”

  “But it was Poppy’s.” And she had happy memories of playing in Poppy’s office while Mamá was gone. Had her mother been working? On dates? She didn’t remember. She just knew that Poppy always made her smile. But he’d died when she was eight and Yaya when she was nine.

  “It’s ugly.” Mamá stepped out onto the porch.

  On Sunday, Sage had finished painting the floor and it sparkled.

  “Let me get you something to drink.” Carolina pushed open the porch’s screen door. “Sage, do you want anything?”

  “Water please,” he called as he painted the railings.

  Carolina grabbed a bottle of protein drink for her mother and poured a large glass of water with ice for Sage.

  “Here you go.” She handed the bottle to Mamá.

  “I hate that.” She pushed it away. “It tastes awful.”

  Carolina’s fingers tensed around the glass she’d brought out for Sage. “Dr. Laster wants you to drink it.”

  “I don’t want it.” Mamá sounded like an ill-behaved child.

  “Mamá, please.”

  Her mother crossed her arms, refusing to take the bottle. “I want...champagne.”

  “Who doesn’t? We don’t have any bottles in the house.” And she wouldn’t leave her mother alone.

  “You’re father always brought me champagne.” Mamá stuck her feet on the wicker ottoman. “I’m cold. Can you bring me a throw?”

  “Sure.” She went outside and handed Sage the glass.

  “You all right?” he whispered.

  She nodded. “I... I don’t want her to be like this. I’m sure it’s the tumors talking, but...” She wanted her to be the mother she’d imagined. Not the selfish woman always focused on her own needs and not her daughter’s.

  “Hang in there.” Sage brushed her cheek. “I want to finish the railing and then, if you have things to do, I’ll sit with her.”

  “I thought I would make dinner.”

  “You go do that.”

  “I’m cold,” her mother called.

  Sage gave her a small smile. “I guess you’d better get her a blanket.”

  Carolina left, grabbed a soft throw from the sofa, returned and spread it on her mother’s legs. “How’s that?”

  “Finally.”

  “What would you like for dinner?” She ignored the bite in Mamá’s voice.

  “Fish. I want fish that Poppy caught and brought home for me.”

  Fish? Carolina hadn’t bought any fish. She wanted to give up. But that wouldn’t feed her mother. Guess she’d have to go the market.

  A car pulled into the left-hand drive. Both she and Sage watched a tall woman climb out. Mamá stroked the fringe on the throw. Up and down. Up and down.

  Oh, God. Don’t let her have a seizure.

  She knelt and clasped her mother’s hand. “Mamá, are you okay?”

  “Of course.”

  The woman came up the steps. “Hello.”

  Sage nodded.

  “Rosa?” the woman asked.

  It was one of the hospice nurses they’d met in the hospital. Carolina couldn’t remember her name. “Hi. Come in.”

  “What a lovely screened-in porch.” The nurse stepped inside. “We met a couple of days ago. I’m Tania Brown.”

  “Hi, Tania.” Carolina held out her hand. “Mamá, say hello.”

  Mamá looked up. “I’ve got a handsome man painting my house. I wish he would take off his shirt.”

  Sage’s head jerked at Mamá’s loud comment.

  Tania winked at Carolina and thankfully ignored Mamá comment. “Did the equipment arrive?”

  “Yes, the bed and lounge chair are here.”

  Tania looked at the steps up from the drive. “Rosa, did you have any trouble getting up the steps?”

  Her mother waved away the question.

  “Sage and I helped her,” Carolina said.

  “I didn’t realize that would be such a barrier for mobility.” Tania made a note on an iPad. “How are you feeling?”

  Her mother didn’t answer.

  “Any pain?”

  Mamá shrugged.

  “I’m here to help, but you need to tell me how you’re feeling.”

  Mamá stared at Sage. And it went that way for the remainder of Tania’s visit.

  Carolina swallowed her tears. This was her life now. It had been foolish to think bringing her mother home would stop the progress of Mamá’s cancer.

  Tania took it in stride. “Here’s my card. It’s got my cell phone number on it.” She held Carolina’s gaze. “Even if I’m not on call, call me—for anything.”

  “Thank you.”

  “My partner, Debbie, will be out tomorrow to visit you, Rosa.”

  Carolina walked Tania to her car.

  “Debbie will spend the afternoon with your mother. Feel free to leave and run errands.” Tania touched her shoulder. “How’re you holding up?”

  She could lie and say she was fine, but she wouldn’t. There’d been too many lies in her life. “It’s hard.”

  Tania gave her arm a squeeze. “I want to make sure you know, it’s not a good idea to leave your mother alone.”

  “I know.” Carolina sighed.

  It was Monday. She had until Thursday to find people who could watch her mother. Because she still needed to work. And Mamá couldn’t be alone.

  * * *

  ROSA WAS STARING at him. Again. You’d think by Thursday she would have stopped.

  He was keeping his eye on Rosa while Carolina tended bar, but her mother’s ogling was creepy.

  Setting the lid on the paint can, he tapped it closed. Done. Even with working between storms, he’d gotten everything painted. He cleaned the brushes, then tucked the supplies on a shelf in the carport.

  “Are you ready for dinner?” he asked Rosa.

  “I’m ready for a drink.”

  “Sure.” For the last three evenings, he, Carolina and Rosa had relaxed with cocktails. If her mother wasn’t dying, it would be a nice tradition. “What would you like?”

  “Champagne. I love champagne.” She hugged her arms. “Beau always brought me champagne.”

  Carolina’s father. A married man. Not honorable. At least not in his world.

  “I’ll get you a glass.” And he’d have a beer.

  He pulled the champagne he’d opened yesterday out of the fridge. When he popped the bottle stopper, it released with a nice hiss. He held up the stainless-steel contraption. The stopper actually kept in the fizz. His mother might like one of these.

  He poured Rosa’s flute and took his beer into the porch.

  She was halfway down the steps.

  He dropped everything on the table and hurried through the screen door. “Hey, where are you going?”

  “To the beach.” She waved her arms and started to spin, losing her balance.

  He caught her.

  “It’s going to rain.” Again. “Why don’t we have our cocktails on the porch? We can stay dry and warm?”

  “I want to go to the beach.” She pouted. Big drops plopped around them. “Damn it!”

  She tried to race up the stairs and he stumbled with her, his hand under her elbow. Maybe he could construct some sort of ramp, but the front stairs were steep. It might be better to build something off the kitchen’s back door.

  Once they were back inside the porch, she brushed water drops from her hair. “That was fun.”

  Then she tried to wipe his shoulders and chest off.

  He stepped away, forcing Rosa’s hands to drop. She’d lost her sense of boundaries. Or maybe she didn’t understand that she was old enough
to be his mother.

  “Do you want a towel?” he asked.

  “I’m fine, fine, fine.” She shuffled back to her chair, took the wineglass and held it up. “Salud!”

  “Cheers.” He sipped his beer.

  “I want my globe.”

  “Your globe?” he asked.

  “My globe. My globe.” Her eyes had a manic sparkle.

  “Do you know where it is?” He hadn’t see a globe in the house, but he hadn’t looked for one, either. “If you know where it is, I can bring it out to you.”

  “Carolina.” Rosa frowned. “She put it away. Where would she hide it?”

  Hide it?

  “I know. She told me.” A sly look slid across her face. “I’m not supposed to take it out.”

  Why would Carolina deny her mother a globe?

  “Poppy’s desk!” Rosa bounced in her chair. “She hid it in Poppy’s desk.”

  “Do you want me to get it for you?”

  “Yes. Yes. It’s been gone so long,” she crooned. “It’s finally home.”

  “Promise you’ll stay right here?”

  She nodded, sipping her champagne. “I just want to touch it.”

  Why had Carolina hidden a globe? His footsteps were heavy as he headed into the main living area. He pushed up the roll top.

  The Fitzgeralds’ blue globe sat in the middle of the desk. His gut twisted like a bronc trying to unseat him. “Damn it.”

  Maybe it wasn’t the globe that had been in the music room.

  He found the plaque written in Spanish. Fuck. Had Abby or one of the sisters given it to Carolina?

  He carried it out to the porch like it was an armed bomb.

  “Is this what you were looking for?” His voice was dead.

  “Yes. Yes!” She held out her hands. “It’s home again. Home again.”

  Home again?

  “Where did Carolina get it?” he choked out.

  “She took it for me.” Rosa pushed her hair off her shoulders. “Right out from under those bitches’ noses.”

  He sank onto the chair and the wicker creaked and groaned. She’d stolen it?

  Maybe Rosa was wrong. He hoped so. Because if not, Carolina’s moral compass was missing.

  * * *

  THE WIPERS THREW rain off the windshield, but as soon as it was clear, sheets of water reappeared. Carolina slowed, barely able to see beyond her headlights. Her fingers clenched the steering wheel like it would keep her on the road. It was only ten, but it was as black as a moonless midnight.