by Susan Wiggs
“She has a shrink.”
“That’s her support?” Faith sensed that Mason didn’t seem too eager to stick around for his mom. Faith missed her mother every day. It was hard to relate to a guy who kept his distance like this. “So do you come up on the weekends?”
“Not very often. Do you think I need to?”
She hesitated, determined not to judge. “That’s up to you.”
“My mom’s got an entire staff, and now she has you. I don’t think she needs me hanging around, too.”
She took a moment to digest that. Coming in cold to a family situation was always challenging, because she had to scramble to figure things out. She had the impression that Mason loved his mother, was devoted to her, even. But he was holding himself back, and she hadn’t yet figured out why.
“Anyway,” he said, “I’m glad you’re on board to help her.”
“I’ll make it my daily mission.”
“Good. Thanks. So are your girls settling in?”
“Sleeping soundly. Ruby’s already in love with the place. And Cara... She likes it as well as a teenager can like any place. I’m just relieved to have a roof over their heads.” She glanced over at him but couldn’t see his face in the darkness.
She finished the whiskey, enjoying the sleepy warmth it imparted. “I should get to bed. I’ve got to get up early with the girls. Their school buses don’t come out this far, so they will have to hike a half a mile to make the first pickup on the route.”
“They don’t have to take the bus,” he said. “Donno can drive them.”
A driver? “That’s not necessary.”
“But totally doable.”
She pictured her girls getting into the shiny black SUV and being chauffeured like foreign dignitaries to their schools. “I don’t think—”
“Donno is on call whether he’s driving or not. You might as well use his service.”
It would mean the girls could sleep in an extra forty minutes. “All right,” she said. “I’m sure they would love it.”
“Good. I want you to be comfortable here. I want this to work, Mrs. McCallum.”
“So do I. And please call me Faith.”
“Okay. Faith it is. But only if you call me Mason.” They both stood to go inside.
She was surprised to feel so comfortable around a guy like this. He was obviously crazy rich, like Bruce Wayne in the Batman series, the kind of guy who took it for granted that a staff of servants and workers would look after things. Yet for no reason she could fathom, she felt completely at ease in his company.
“What’s a good time to go to the hospital for the blood tests?” she asked him.
“Early is better for me. I was planning to get an early start to the city,” he said. “Regina needs to get back to the city for work. So do I, for that matter.”
“Yes, of course,” she said, feeling like an idiot for forgetting the perfect girlfriend. “Thanks again for the whiskey. Good night, Mason.”
“Good night, Faith.” He hesitated. “It’s good to have you here. Really. I hope you enjoy the peace and quiet of Willow Lake.”
* * *
In the morning Faith waited for Mason in the foyer, wanting to get the hospital visit over with before Mrs. Bellamy was up for the day. Regina appeared, heels clicking, Chanel briefcase in hand, smartphone held to her ear as she spoke about some kind of marketing strategy. She looked so polished and stylish that Faith wondered if they were on hidden camera. How did some women do that? How did they get every hair and stroke of makeup in place?
Faith shuffled her feet and fished out her wallet, checking to see that she had her ID, her ACA card, a tiny amount of cash.
“Sorry,” Regina said, ending her call but keeping her attention on the phone screen. “My business day starts early.”
“Oh. Um, I see.” Faith offered a smile.
“I need to be on that early train.” Regina thumbed through several screens.
One of the browser windows showed a display of wedding gowns. Faith saw it scroll by.
Regina tapped her foot. “Punctuality is not Donno’s strong suit. Maybe it’s a cultural thing. We have a different understanding of time than they do in Bali.” With an audible sigh, she put her phone away and offered Faith a brief smile. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re here to help out. What was your name again?”
“Faith. Faith McCallum.”
“That’s right. And your girls are Cara and Ruby. The little one is just adorable.”
“Thanks.”
“And the older one...” Regina’s expression turned sympathetic. “I suppose some girls go through that phase.”
“What phase would that be?”
“Adolescence.” Regina hesitated, studying Faith for a moment. “You seem awfully young to have a teenager.”
“I was young when I had Cara.”
“So what did he rescue you from?”
“I beg your pardon.”
“Mason. It’s kind of a thing with him. Everyone he hires seems to have some hard-luck story, and he gives people a second chance. The housekeeper had some high-profile husband who knocked her around, the chef and his family were indigent and the other aide, Lena...I’m not sure what her story is...”
In a way, thought Faith, Mason had rescued her. But she wasn’t sure how she felt about Regina making that assumption.
Regina turned to the big mirror over the hall table and checked her lipstick. A moment later, Mason appeared, dressed in a tailored suit, his shoes shined, a conservative tie neatly knotted against his crisp white shirt.
“There you are,” Regina said. “And where’s Donno? I need to get to the station.”
“We’ll drop you there on the way to the hospital,” he said easily.
She favored him with a brilliant smile. “You’re a lifesaver. I was just telling Faith that.”
“She saw my lifesaving skills in action,” he said. “Rusty, to say the least.”
Regina slipped her arm through his. “I’d never call you rusty.” Groomed to the last inch of her shadow, she made Faith feel shabby and unkempt by comparison.
Normally, Faith wasn’t one to compare. Her best friend, Kim, was ridiculously beautiful, the kind of woman whose style seemed effortless, but Faith never felt self-conscious around Kim. This was different. Maybe it was because Regina moved in on Mason as if she owned him.
* * *
Mason stuffed the paperwork from the hospital into his briefcase. Getting a blood and bodily fluid evaluation had been a first for him, but it had gone fine. The accident victim, a guy named Richard Sanders, had given his consent to be tested, as well, and there were no issues, thank goodness. For safety’s sake, they would go back in six months to be retested.
Regina had made it clear that she wasn’t happy about the idea of heading down to the city without him, but he kept thinking about his conversation with Faith the night before. She had seemed so surprised by his need to make a quick exit. He didn’t have anything urgent on his agenda, so he figured he could stick around a bit longer.
Almost right away, he felt like a fifth wheel. The household ran smoothly, and now that Faith was on board, he wasn’t needed at all. Still, it seemed like a good idea to make sure the new caregiver was everything they’d hoped for.
It was a beautiful morning, and out on the patio facing the lake, Faith and his mother were getting started on their day. He could hear their voices drifting through the sliding screen door. He didn’t want to hover, but he was curious about how they were getting on together.
“According to this schedule, you’re to spend two to four hours a day working out,” said Faith.
“Does it say that?” his mother inquired with a marked lack of interest. “I suppose it does.”
“Let’s get starte
d, shall we?”
“No, thank you. I don’t care for working out.”
“Understood. But it’s necessary to preserve your muscle tone as much as possible.”
“I’ll pass today, thanks.”
Mason sensed a note of tension in his mother’s voice. In the study, where he’d gone to check his email, he craned his neck to see what was going on.
The two women sat facing each other, his mother in the electric rig and Faith on a patio bench. There was a small table with some paperwork and an iPad propped on it.
“That’s not a good idea,” she said to his mother. Her chin lifted, just slightly. Just enough to display a stubborn streak. She was not physically large. She was on the small side, actually. But there was a quiet power to her personality. “I’m certain your rehab team explained to you how crucial it is to maintain muscle tone. And as a gifted athlete, you surely understand that skipping a workout is only cheating yourself.”
“And as my hired help, you understand that ultimately the decision is mine.”
“Of course. Do you have something better to do?”
“That’s irrelevant. I simply don’t care for this boring, pointless exercise.”
Faith consulted the app on his mom’s iPad. “Let’s start with your upper body. According to the chart, your head, neck, shoulders and upper chest can function. You have biceps function but not triceps. If we keep you strong, you’ll be more comfortable and develop more independence. Let’s start with the upper body.”
“No. I have a broken collarbone, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“The surgical repair has stabilized it, and the doctor’s recommendation is that you begin using it normally right away, so the muscles don’t atrophy. Let me do my job, Alice. Start with some deep breaths and shoulder rolls. There you go.”
His mother’s attempt was halfhearted.
“Use your diaphragm,” Faith ordered. “Keep it strong. It’s your lifeline.” She helped his mother with some arm movements, manipulating her elbows and hands.
After a few minutes, she said, “I’m tired. All I feel is pain and discomfort.”
“Then just say, ‘Hello, pain and discomfort. I’ve been expecting you. You’re the reason I’m doing this.’”
“When I feel pain, I stop. Simple as that. It’s what any thinking person does.”
“Not when you’re recovering and trying to build your strength. Let’s keep going.”
“You’re talking nonsense.”
“Trust me, I’m a professional.”
“Very funny.”
“I’m here to help, but I can’t do the work for you. Push yourself, Alice. You’re the only one who can.”
“This is a ridiculous and useless exercise.”
Faith didn’t let up working her forearm. “Keep going, Alice. You’re doing great.”
“I can’t. It hurts.”
“That’s because you’re working. It’s a good sign. Come on, you can do it.”
“Stop. Please.” Her voice was thick, as though she was fighting back tears.
Mason’s jaw was so tight he gave himself a headache. His heart went out to his mother. She’d been through hell, and she was still there. Faith McCallum was driving her too hard. She was demoralizing his mother. Maybe Faith wasn’t the right person, after all.
“You’re fired,” his mother was saying, as if she’d read his mind.
“All right, fine. You can fire me. But only after you give me eight more elbow extensions on each arm.”
“Do you have any idea how excruciating this is?”
“I don’t,” Faith said. “But I have an idea that you can do it. You have to, Alice.”
“I’m done. Leave me alone.” His mother was on the verge of a breakdown.
Mason stood up. He was about to go to the patio and fire the woman himself.
“Four, three, two, one.” Faith counted down the repetitions. “Good work, Alice. I know it’s hard—”
“Shut up. Please, just leave me alone now.” She steered the chair across the patio.
Enough already, thought Mason. He strode across the room and exited through the sliding door. His mother was nowhere in sight. Good. He could give Faith McCallum a piece of his mind.
She was seated at the patio table with the iPad and therapy documents in front of her, the pages blowing lightly in the breeze. Her head was bent, and her hands shook as she picked up the papers and carefully folded them on the table in front of her. When she looked up and saw him, the look in her eyes took him aback.
“Remind me again what you said last night,” she said. “Something about enjoying the peace and quiet of this place.”
His anger evaporated. Until this moment, it had not occurred to him that helping his mother was so very hard on the caregiver. “Everything all right?”
“Fine. We just finished our first exercise session.”
“How’d it go?”
“Your mother is a strong-willed person. That’s a good thing. She’s going to need all her strength to make progress.”
“I’m sure she’ll come around,” he assured her. “She can be really pleasant when she wants to be.”
“Right. If we don’t murder each other first.”
9
Faith could hear Mrs. Bellamy griping all the way down the hall.
“I can’t stand the smell of rosemary,” she was saying to Lena, her morning aide. “If you’d been paying attention, you would know that.”
Faith paused and tapped lightly at the door.
“Come in,” barked Mrs. Bellamy. “I’m completely naked, but that doesn’t seem to stop anyone from barging in.”
“Just finishing a bath,” said Lena, her smile taut.
“That rosemary soap is vile,” Mrs. Bellamy said. “Find something else.”
Lena said something in a low voice.
“What’s that?” Mrs. Bellamy demanded. “I can’t hear you.”
“I said, it’s not rosemary. It’s lavender.”
“Nonsense. I can tell the difference between lavender and rosemary.”
Faith came forward, picking up the soap dispenser. “Good morning to you, too. I don’t know French, but I’m guessing huile de lavande does not mean rosemary.”
“It must be mislabeled, then,” Alice snapped.
“True,” Faith replied. “Because lavender is known to have natural calming properties, and you’re having a hissy fit.” After yesterday’s disastrous therapy session, Faith knew she had to push her client. She met Lena’s gaze and saw that the young woman was on the verge of tears. “Why don’t you go down and check on breakfast?”
The girl practically fled.
“I should fire her. There was rosemary on the pork roast last week and I said I couldn’t stand it.”
“You’re not going to fire her,” Faith said calmly.
“No? Watch me.”
“Don’t be mean. It costs a small fortune to get a green card. She needs this job.”
“I’m not a charitable organization. If she does poorly at her job, then she deserves to be fired.”
Unwilling to enter into an argument, Faith held up a wrap skirt.
Alice scowled, but she nodded assent, and Faith helped her finish dressing. It felt good to be working again, doing what she did best. She had a deft way with patient care, and she liked the connection and healing that took place. Over the years, she had learned everyone had the capacity to heal, spiritually if not physically. Some were more challenging than others.
She brushed Alice’s hair. It was long and blond with no visible gray. Its silky texture was lovely, but Alice insisted that it should all be pulled back into a bun. “I used to wear it loose,” she said, “but now, if it falls forward, I can’t b
rush it out of my face.”
Faith’s heart softened, and she took her time with the gentle brushing. “Have you thought about a haircut? A pixie or a bob?”
“At my age? It would look silly.”
“Silly, like Jamie Lee Curtis? Sharon Stone? Ellen DeGeneres? They’re all your age.”
Alice sighed. “It’s astonishing how much I took for granted, before all of this. Putting on lipstick... Oh, God, what I wouldn’t give if I could just put on lipstick.”
“I can help you with that.” Faith’s makeup-applying skills were severely limited, but she figured she could do lipstick.
“Fine. In the vanity drawer.”
Faith opened the drawer. There was a nice array of expensive-looking cosmetics. Most looked untouched. “Watermelon Wine?” she said, reading the colors. “Coral Kiss?”
“Watermelon Wine, which sounds dreadful but it’s a nice color.”
Faith gently applied the lipstick. Mrs. Bellamy had a beautiful face—full lips and creamy skin, bright blue eyes. But she barely looked at herself when Faith held up the mirror.
“Let’s begin, shall we?” She regarded her new client with bright anticipation. In her career, she had uttered the question hundreds of times to dozens of clients.
“I can hardly wait.” Mrs. Bellamy’s surly sneer didn’t faze Faith. Many of the people she’d worked with in the past struggled with feelings of anger and outright depression. Faith knew better than to take it personally.
“Whenever you’re ready,” she said softly.
Mrs. Bellamy sighed. “Whatever,” she said. “We might as well begin.”
“I went through the therapy plan from your team. Looks like today’s morning routine is supposed to be all about navigation skills.”
“Indeed.”
“Since I’m new here, you could start by giving me a tour of the place.”
“Love to.” She didn’t sound as if she would love to.
“I’ll follow your lead.”
Alice moved forward in her chair and started the tour. They went first to the study, adjacent to the sunny main room. This was where she spent much of her time, probably because here, she was able to exert some measure of control. The desk area resembled a setting for a futuristic movie, with a big-screen monitor, a microphone for voice commands and some switches that could be activated by nudging them with the wheelchair.
