“What’s wrong?” Jason’s voice was strong and steady. He was so caught up in the present these days. That was a good thing; at least one of them wasn’t hung up on the past or worrying about the future.
Cara sighed. With her plan dissolving like the wispy remains of a dream fading in the morning, any hope of staying here in Lobster Cove and exploring a new relationship with Jason without the pressure of some huge commitment was gone. She would have to go to Chicago, and that would force a decision. They’d finally begun to build something, an adult relationship based on new experiences. They would have to part ways and see if what they had could withstand the challenges of distance.
“Nothing important,” she said.
“Cara, what’s wrong?”
Hearing the concern in his voice, Cara wondered if maybe, just maybe, they could succeed. She would tell him her concerns, but right now, they needed to go back inside. This night was important, even if it no longer poetically launched her fabulous “new” idea.
The muscles along his jaw bunched and relaxed in the same rhythmic pattern they did when he was pitching. He was concentrating on her in a whole new way these days, the way he used to focus on his game.
“I was thinking,” she said, “of how glad I am you’re here with me. I wanted to be certain I had a chance to thank you properly, in case I didn’t have a chance to speak with you privately again tonight.”
“I’ve enjoyed it too. You really did something here, Cara. You’re good at this.”
His words warmed her. “Thank you.”
“Yes. You said you’d thank me properly…”
Under the porch light, with the piano music lilting in the background, their lips met. His lips were strong and full on her mouth. He tasted of the mint gum he was known for on the pitching mound. His hands roved over her back, pulling her against his muscular chest.
Excitement trembled low in her belly, and a small moan escaped. Jason’s lips parted in a smile, and he pressed his forehead to hers. “Now that,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, “is what I call ‘properly.’”
On melting legs, she followed Jason back into the venue.
****
Cara seemed preoccupied. He was, too. What made their current path any different from the ones they’d walked before? He’d walked away after high school. Strike one, him. Then the wedding. Partially her fault, but mostly his. Strike two. What could he do to use his last chance to bring her home? He didn’t want to undermine her plans, and she didn’t seem to want to include him in them.
Big Dirk was sitting with Mom, having taken Cara’s chair at the table. An instant reaction to go in there and protect his mother hit Jason in the gut. He restrained himself. He had no business interfering with his mother’s love life. Even though “mother” and “love life” should be an oxymoron, he didn’t want to be either an ox or a moron, both of which he would be if he marched in there and told Big Dirk to back off.
He offered his chair to Cara and grabbed a free chair from another table. The musician stopped as Jason returned and wedged into the space between his mother and Mrs. Buzzkill, as he’d nicknamed Yvette.
“Hi, Jason,” Dirk said.
Jason decided to stop referring to him as “Big Dirk.” That was a girl thing. Dirk wasn’t much bigger than him. “Hi, Dirk.”
“How are you?”
“Fine.” A sharp glance from Cara suggested he might be acting unfriendly. “How are you?”
Dirk filled Jason in on a few details of his life, letting him know his plumbing business was doing quite well. Jason congratulated him and asked a question about tools. Dirk’s rigid posture relaxed as he explained some of the finer nuances of plumbing.
If only Jason could hire Dirk to work on Mom’s house. He hated plumbing, but he couldn’t see spending any money that didn’t have to be spent. Every penny should be saved for things he couldn’t do, such as giving his mom a shower and being there during the day when he was working. And who knew what else in the future?
The piano player came back and started another set. Dirk’s hand traveled to Mom’s, but Jason jerked his gaze away and tried not to grimace. Of course he caught Cara watching, but her eyes softened, and the corners of her mouth twitched.
All this need for self-control was getting to Jason. He stood and held out his hand. Cara hesitated, then took his hand. Was she remembering how he’d stormed off the dance floor at Maya’s wedding?
During a slow dance, Cara said she thought it was good to leave Dirk and Mom alone. His gaze still drifted to the pair. Dirk was behaving himself, holding Mom’s hand. Mom giggled like a schoolgirl and whispered something in Dirk’s ear. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He might need to have a talk with Dirk later.
Jason lowered his mouth to Cara’s ear. “You did a great job here tonight, Cara. I hope you realize that.”
“Thank you. I’m really excited. I hope everyone feels good about it tomorrow.”
“Why wouldn’t they?”
A brief laugh vibrated against his chest. “I think Lonnie may have had one too many.”
Lonnie and Hugh had gone back out on the dance floor. Lonnie did look a bit unbalanced on those heels. Hugh was doing a good job holding her upright though.
“I think it’ll be fine,” Jason said. “Something tells me it may not be the first hangover Lonnie ever had.”
Cara laughed. “If she ends up with Hugh tonight, there could be worse things. He’s devoted to her.”
“He seems okay.” Cara’s body fit his, her curves pressing against his chest. He fought the attraction. This talking thing was probably good.
“Something tells me if your mom had her way, she wouldn’t be going home alone either.”
He stiffened. “Cara, that’s my mom you’re talking about.”
“She’s an attractive grown woman.”
“No, she’s a mom. My mom.”
She laughed and pinched him.
“Ow.” He pulled her tight. Maybe he could guide Cara a little, make her see her talents. “I hope you know how much good you’ve done here tonight.”
Her dark brows arched. “What do you mean by that?”
He looked her in the eye, leading her through simple steps. The piano music was as soft as the lighting. The mix of melting candle wax and women’s perfume smelled kind of good. “I think you have a talent with the elderly and disabled, Cara. Have you ever thought about going into a business centered on them?”
Her brows lifted, and a huff of breath told him he’d surprised her. Good. “Funny you should say that.”
“Why?” The song ended before she could answer. The next one was fast. The piano player continued to play brisk music until the end of the evening when he finally did a slow one. While Jason was able to hold Cara close, so much time had passed it seemed odd to ask what she meant by her comment. Maybe tomorrow. Perhaps he could get her to come over and have breakfast with him. Or dinner. Yes, better.
The assistants from Harbor Manor appeared just as the piano player was thanking his loudly applauding audience. Jason went to help his mother while Cara followed the residents out to the van. He helped his mother into her coat. By the time he had her situated in the car, Cara was finished settling the residents. He opened the back door for her, and she gave him that startled look she wore whenever he was doing the right thing. He was a jerk for not being more gentlemanly in the past.
He followed the van back to Harbor Manor. Cara wanted to make sure everyone was happy and made it home safely. If she could, he had no doubt she would tuck them each in with a kiss good night. Well, maybe not Hugh and Abner! He smiled to himself. But Nora, Lonnie, and Yvette for sure. Maybe he’d have a chance to ask a follow-up question or just probe a bit more about the idea of her going into elder care.
Unfortunately, the night never presented another opportunity. He had Mom with them on the ride home, and he insisted on dropping Cara off at home first, so she could get some rest. On the porch, her hair gleaming in t
he light, she waved. Then she bowed her head before stepping inside the house.
What was going through that head of hers? She was very preoccupied. In fact, she had been so over the last two years. Whenever he thought he was making progress with her, things changed, and they grew apart. Despite the closeness of the past week, she was slipping further away.
Chapter Eight
The buzzer went off. Jason shot out of bed. He found Mom in bed, hands fluttering over the bedspread. She’d turned on the light. Her eyes were wide and panicked. She was panting.
He rushed to her side and took hold of her hands. “What’s going on?”
“I-I-I c-c-can’t breathe!” She got the last word out on another gasp.
He turned on the oxygen machine and fit the tubes over Francie’s ears and in her nose. “It’s okay, Mom. You’re fine.” His heart was racing. He was squeezing her hands too hard. He loosened his grip.
“Call 911,” his mom pleaded.
He tapped in the numbers.
Where was Cara? He’d texted her after calling for the paramedics. He didn’t want to jar her awake with a phone call, but he hoped like hell she heard the notification. She would calm Mom. And him.
He sat beside Mom on the bed, holding her hand, and stared calmly into her blue eyes. “They’re on their way. Just relax and breathe. See? You’re getting plenty of oxygen. You’re fine. Sheila is probably working tonight. We’ll all have a good laugh over this. Then you can come with us next Friday. I’m sure she’d love to see you when she’s off duty. We’re going to Merlot’s. Maybe Dirk can come, too. How’s that sound?” He was babbling, trying to come up with normal, everyday stuff.
Where was Cara? He didn’t want to tell Mom Cara was coming in case she didn’t hear the text.
Mom nodded, but her eyes were huge with fear. Fighting the shakes, he forced a smile and nudged the oxygen tank with his foot. “See this? That there is your knight in shining armor. We should give it a name. How ’bout Lance? That sounds knight-like. Lance is getting oxygen deep into your lungs. Doesn’t that feel good?”
Mom’s eyes were still wide, but she nodded. Then her gaze traveled over his shoulder.
The front door shut with a solid thump. He watched Mom, relief leaking through his body, calming the tremors in his arms and legs. Footsteps pounded down the hall. Cara might scare Mom if she acted too urgent. The footsteps slowed. Relief at Cara’s awareness eased the knots in his jaw.
Cara arrived beside him. Francie was watching her, and she even smiled briefly.
Sirens wailed in the distance. God, he wished they’d turn them off. Come quietly.
“I’ll let them in.” Cara trotted back up the hall. Minutes passed, and then Cara reappeared leading Sheila Kidman.
The other paramedic wheeled in a larger oxygen machine, and Sheila fitted a mask over Mom’s nose and mouth, talking in reassuring tones the whole time. The new oxygen thing did a better job. Mom’s gaze was riveted on Sheila. Her eyes grew less wide. She was calming down.
A warm touch on his arm brought Jason around.
“I think we should step out of here,” Cara said. “Let them do their work.”
Jason nodded and told his mom they’d be in the dining room. Mom ignored him, her attention on Sheila.
In the dining room Cara suggested he sit. He paced instead.
“Jase—” Her dark eyes were focused, intent.
“Cara, thanks for coming. I hope it’s okay I texted you.”
“Of course.”
Of course. Because Cara was family.
Out there beyond Frenchman Bay, the sun was edging up to the horizon. They couldn’t see the water from their forest home, but the outlines of the pines, maples, and oaks took shape in the early dawn light. God, what was he going to do? Mom needed specialists. This might not be the right place for her. They should be in Boston where she could see every specialist known to man. The two million dollars he’d set aside for her when he was earning big money in baseball wouldn’t cover living expenses forever. Boston was expensive. His potential new career in cooking was fine for a place like Lobster Cove, but not Boston.
What about Chicago? Yeah, right. So not the way or the reason he wanted to propose to Cara. Mom had to come first for him right now, plain and simple. Footsteps pattered then Cara’s warmth was beside him. “What are you thinking, Jase?”
He looped his arm around her shoulders, pulled her tight to his side, dropped a kiss on her silky hair, and breathed her sweet scent. “Nothing, Care. Glad you’re here.”
“I think I should move in. For the summer.”
He patted her shoulder. “We’ll figure something out. You wait here, unless you want to go home now and back to bed. I’ll go see what they want to do with Mom. I hope it’s not another hospital stay.”
Cara stepped away, her hand sliding down his arm, grasping and releasing his hand. “Go. I’ll be right here.”
****
Jason disappeared into the hallway. Cara turned to stare out the window, as though she could discover what he’d been thinking by looking at the same scene. The trees and shrubs of the forest came into greater relief and turned purple in the shift from dark to dawn. Everything was so peaceful out there, yet down the hall her world was falling apart. What if Francie’s breathing issue was more than a panic attack? Cara had looked up breathing problems with multiple sclerosis on the internet, and surely Jason had as well. Had she been wrong about Francie needing to have fun? Had the piano bar been too much? Was she, Cara, way over her head with her fantasies of providing better care for the disabled?
And Jason. He was so steady, so loyal. How could she have ever thought otherwise? They were kids when he’d ended things to go on to his career. Maybe she’d pressured him too much. Who wants to commit the rest of your life to your one-and-only girlfriend at the ripe old age of eighteen? Was that what his betrayal had been about? She’d always thought so. Now, seeing him with his mom, she wondered. She’d been unpredictable in high school. Maybe he didn’t think she would be a good wife. No. Francie hadn’t been sick yet. Jason was really the one who acted out, dating all the time and spending money like crazy. Now he’d grown and changed. In some ways he’d changed back to the person she knew when growing up, but a better, mature version. Sheila appeared, wearing a smile. “She’s okay.”
Cara’s heart, clearly not convinced, thudded against her ribs. “You aren’t taking her to the hospital?”
“No. She’ll be okay here. I think another visit to the ER will do more harm than good. She’s not having an emergency, and those trips are tiring. She’s breathing fine on her own. It appears to be another panic attack. Her oxygen levels are fine. Jason will take her to the doctor later, or maybe Dr. Willson will make a house call.”
“Thanks, Sheila.”
Sheila and the other paramedic packed their equipment out to the ambulance and drove away, then Cara headed down the hall.
Francie lay on the bed with her eyes closed, so Cara hovered in the door. Jason, who was beside her, offered a weak smile, then trod out of the room. He waved for Cara to lead and followed her back into the dining room. Everything was happening in slow motion.
“How ’bout I make some coffee?” she suggested.
He nodded slowly. “That would be good.”
Her hands shook as she measured the coffee. She needed to calm down, but only one thought played in her head. Going to the piano bar had made Francie sick. Cara’s heart pounded so hard she was afraid of cardiac arrest. Her head felt too full of blood, and a headache circled the interior of her skull.
“Are you hungry?” she asked Jason, fighting nausea. On the other side of the counter, he was staring into space. She should feed him. “Cereal okay?”
He nodded.
She brought out the coffee and cereal and set them on the table. The dishes clattered from her shaking hands. Jason ate, shoveling in cereal without seeming to see it at all. She sipped water.
“Jason, I’m afraid the piano ba
r triggered this episode. I’m sorry.”
Jason’s hair was rumpled, and dark patches showed below his eyes, but he managed a reassuring smile. “I don’t think so, Care. There’s nothing really wrong.”
Jason didn’t blame her. The heart thing backed off somewhat, and air filled her lungs, but she needed to be sure, really sure. “I feel terrible. All along, I’ve been focused on how important it is for disabled people to have fun. I didn’t mean to jeopardize your mom’s health because of my agenda.”
“Not at all. You didn’t. She has to live as normally as possible. And you’re right about them needing to do fun normal stuff. Like I mentioned last night. Man, the piano bar seems like days ago!”
Cara shook her head. “I’m as dazed as you.”
“Anyway, have you ever thought of working in that arena instead of going into business consulting?”
Cara blinked a few times. “I have. I mean, yes, in fact I’ve been working on a new business proposal, but after last night, I’m scrapping it. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Cara, don’t give up on yourself. Will you show me the proposal?”
Was it relief making her eyes water? She nodded.
“Why would you consider scrapping it?”
“I thought I could offer something different, but my grandiose scheme would probably fall into the same institutional habits as every other facility. I know just enough to be dangerous.”
He leveled her with a steady green-eyed gaze. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
His words and belief in her calmed her. “Speaking of not selling yourself short, what about you? Are you opening a restaurant?”
He shook his head slowly, looking sad. “I don’t know yet. I have to figure out what to do with Mom.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I think she would benefit from physical therapy. A lot of it. There aren’t people specializing in it here.”
Cara pressed her hands to her belly to quell the fear knotting her insides. “What are you thinking of, Jase?”
Third Strike's the Charm Page 10
