“What about the guy?”
“I haven’t met him, but so far I’m not impressed. A quickie Vegas wedding isn’t the way to start a life together.”
Jake thought of last night’s dinner with Sam and Lucy. Sam was only twenty-one, but he’d grown up fast when his mother died, and his faith had grown too. Jake was determined to support the young couple a thousand percent. Too bad Nurse Girl didn’t have that same peace of mind.
“Maybe it’ll work out,” he said.
“I hope so.”
He heard what she didn’t say. “But?”
“But I doubt it.” She rolled her eyes in a cute way that seemed to make fun of herself. “Sorry for the gloom and doom. I’m not usually a pessimist.”
Neither was Jake. “You’re worried.”
“Yes.” Nurse Girl sipped her coffee. When she looked at him, her blue eyes were calm again. “Who’s getting married in your life?”
“A friend.” That was the easiest way to explain his relationship with Sam. “I’m the best man. It’s a happy day for them.”
“I wish them all the best.” Envy whispered in her voice, but he didn’t hear even a trace of bitterness. She glanced at her watch, a practical style she probably wore on the job. “I need to leave.”
“Me too.” Jake rubbed his jaw. The ceremony wasn’t for two hours, but he wanted a haircut and a straight-razor shave, like a slick detective in an old Hollywood movie. Las Vegas brought out his inner Robert De Niro, the part of him that enjoyed gangster movies like Casino and Heat. The good guys won, but at a tremendous cost.
At his urging, Pirate wiggled out from under the table. Nurse Girl left a generous tip, picked up the check, and tucked the brown hen under her arm.
They paused in the aisle, standing face-to-face with Jake looking down and Nurse Girl looking up. Her head would have fit nicely against his shoulder. She was pretty in an outdoorsy way with a trim figure, tanned skin, and that sun-streaked hair, but what most stood out to Jake were her eyes. They were the color of the pool at the base of Echo Falls, and they invited a person to dive right in.
They walked together to the register. She paid, and they left through the double doors.
“Thanks for the hen,” she said.
“My pleasure.”
He tipped his hat, and they went their separate ways. Ten paces later, Jake turned and looked back. So did Nurse Girl. The desert sun blazed straight above, rendering her almost shadowless on the white concrete. She seemed terribly alone in the harsh light. And definitely flustered to be caught looking back at him.
“Tomorrow,” he called to her, raising his voice over the traffic noise. “Pirate and I will be here for breakfast at eight o’clock. Why don’t you join us?”
He approached her, reaching into his shirt pocket as he walked. When he reached her, he handed her two business cards. One for Tanner Vending with his name on it, and the second from Love-A-Dog Rescue. The dog rescue was his mom’s mission in life.
“My name is Jake Tanner.”
Nurse Girl read both cards, smiled at the cartoon on the dog rescue card, but didn’t say yes or no to breakfast. Neither did she give him her name. Smart woman. What happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas, unless a story about a missing woman ended up on CNN.
When she peered at him with those jump-in-the-water eyes, he saw the smoke and flames of a battle he knew well. To leap or retreat? To plunge ahead with the courage of a soldier, or to hold back with the wisdom of a judge?
“It’s your choice,” he said, meaning it. “Either way, it’s been a pleasure.”
“For me too.” A smile tugged at her lips, but she didn’t say anything else.
Jake replied with a dip of his chin, then turned and headed for the barbershop. At the entrance, he ran his hand along his bristled jaw, anticipating a close shave and maybe breakfast with Nurse Girl. His heart gave a strong beat of anticipation—something he hadn’t felt in a while—and it wasn’t because of the shave.
Chapter
2
Meet a stranger for breakfast? No way. But as Mia rode the mirrored elevator to her room on the fourteenth floor of the Las Palmas Hotel, she hugged the stuffed hen to her chest. Someone like Lucy might have thrown caution to the wind and enjoyed a flirtation, but Mia was far more reserved.
Even so, she was tempted. Mr. Claw Machine had impressed her with his stuffed animals, easy manner, and good looks, but there was no point in starting a relationship doomed to end. Her first interview with Mission Medical was scheduled for Monday afternoon via Skype. With a little luck, she’d make it through the lengthy interview process, move to Dallas in January, and travel overseas soon after that.
But what did she do about Lucy and her newborn baby? Impulsive described Lucy to a T. But so did words like fun, generous, and caring. Feed a stray cat? Of course. Bring it inside their crackerbox apartment? Definitely. Oh, it has fleas. Oops.
Oops should have been Lucy’s middle name.
With a nostalgic smile on her lips, Mia set her purse and the hen on a small table in the corner of her room. She loved Lucy with her whole heart. Maybe too much, because she couldn’t imagine joining Mission Medical and leaving Lucy alone to cope with the demands of an infant. As for Sam Waters, Mia wasn’t impressed. Birth control, anyone?
But who was Mia to judge? She said no to sex before marriage for herself, but she’d be the first to admit to being tempted, especially when Brad had teased her about being as old-fashioned as a black-and-white television.
Her phone rang with the tone assigned to Lucy. They were in the same hotel, but Mia didn’t know Lucy’s room number. Hoping to see her sister before the misguided ceremony, she snatched the device to her ear. “Lucy! How are you?”
“I’m wonderful! Can you believe it, Mia? I’m getting married. It doesn’t seem real.”
“It’s a big decision. I’d really like to talk before—”
“No.”
“But—”
“I said no.”
“Lucy, I—”
“Mia, don’t. You’re not like me at all. You’re like your dad. Mom used to say that.”
“I remember.”
“And I’m like her.” Defiance shot across the phone. “I miss her, Mia. Especially today.”
Mia squeezed her eyes shut. Cancer. Years of it. Just the three of them, because Mia’s father, a soldier, died in a car accident when she was nine, and Lucy’s father, a man their mother never married, had slipped out of their lives before Lucy was born.
“I miss her too,” Mia murmured.
Lucy’s voice wobbled over the phone. “Promise me something, okay?”
“What is it?”
“That you won’t ruin today. Please?”
“Of course I won’t. But—”
“See? That’s what I mean.”
Mia pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry, Lucy. Really, I am. It’s just that I worry about you.”
“I know you do, but I wish you’d stop. I love you, Mia. We’re sisters forever. I want you at the wedding, but I don’t want to argue, okay?”
Neither did Mia, but how did she hold back when every fiber of her being believed Lucy was about to make a truly serious mistake?
With her throat aching, Mia stared at the stuffed hen roosting on the table, its eyes going in two directions. Why did the chicken cross the road? It wasn’t just to get to the other side. The hen was going back to rescue her chicks. For better or worse, Lucy was Mia’s chick. From the moment their mother placed baby Lucy in Mia’s arms, Mia had felt a bone-deep responsibility for her tiny, wailing, helpless little sister.
With razor clarity, last Tuesday’s phone call played through her mind.
“Mia, I’m pregnant.” Lucy had taken a breath. “Sam and I are getting married on Thursday.”
“Oh, Lucy. No.”
“Yes. In Las Vegas. I know how disappointed you are, but there’s more. I’m quitting school.”
Disappointment hadn’t begun to de
scribe the churning in Mia’s gut. How could Lucy throw away an education and the security of a solid career? Her grades weren’t the best, but she had survived her freshman year and made friends. She had also met Sam Waters, fallen in love, and melted into a puddle of hormones.
Mia was all for melting. She’d done some melting herself and knew the joy of being in love. It was the puddle part that upset her. Whether it was a puddle of hormones or a puddle of tears, Mia mopped up the mess.
That phone call had ended with Mia quizzing Lucy about the pregnancy, learning she was eight weeks along, and biting her tongue as she wrote down the name of a Las Vegas hotel and the address of a wedding chapel. Mia had cancelled her patients for Thursday and Friday, booked a flight to Las Vegas, and begged God to stop Lucy from ruining her life.
Now here they were. Sisters as different as granite and wind. One secure and steady, the other as unpredictable as a butterfly. One plain and practical, the other so beautiful she turned heads everywhere she went.
Lucy breathed into the phone. “Mia?”
“Yes?”
“Be happy for me, okay?”
“I am.” A white lie, but only someone truly wicked would tarnish her sister’s wedding day. “As your maid of honor, I should be with you. Do you want help getting dressed?”
“No. I can manage.” Lucy described the little white dress she’d bought at Walmart. “It’s beautiful and perfect. I love it.”
Mia wasn’t ready to let her baby sister go. “Did you invite any friends?”
“No. Just Sam’s best man.”
No doubt a fellow ROTC student, probably a skinny kid with a crew cut and gangly arms. Maybe acne. Good grief, Mia felt old today. And alone. Why did turning thirty bother her so much, especially when her birthday was still two months away?
She hooked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just one more question. How are you feeling? Has the morning sickness kicked in yet?”
“Ugh. Big time.”
“Try sour things.” Mia made a mental note to buy Lucy some Lemonhead candies. She’d heard from a patient that they worked wonders.
“I will.”
“And Lucy?”
“Yes?”
“I really do want what’s best for you.” With that final declaration, Mia uttered a soft good-bye, ended the call, and plugged in her phone. Keeping her smartphone charged was one of her obsessions, along with being on time and flossing her teeth.
Just as she set her phone on the table, it vibrated to signal a text. When she swiped the screen, she saw what used to be her favorite picture in the world. Brad . . . She needed to delete him from her phone, or at least change the photo of him to one that didn’t open old wounds. Swallowing hard, she read the text.
Would like to meet for coffee tomorrow. Have some news. Don’t want you to hear it through the rumor mill.
“Oh no,” she mumbled. “Really, Brad? So soon?”
She knew what was coming. He’d been dating that MRI tech for three months now, and she’d seen them huddled together at the Starbucks close to the medical building where they all worked.
She texted back. Can’t. Am in Las Vegas. Maybe he’d think she was having fun, something he’d told her she wasn’t very good at.
He texted back just one word. Oh.
One confusing word. That was all. She didn’t like his staccato texts, but that was how Brad sent messages. Once the conversation started, he typed a few words at a time and hit send, over and over.
He texted back. Can’t call right now.
Mia sighed. “I didn’t ask you to.”
Talk tonight?
“Why?” she said to his picture. “What’s the point?” She texted back. Just tell me now. I think I know.
She expected a quick reply, but the wait stretched into a full minute. Finally a word bubble popped onto the screen.
You’re an amazing woman, Mia. Things didn’t work out for us, but you’ll always be someone I admire. You know Nikki. She and I are officially engaged. I didn’t mean to do this by text. Sorry.
Mia wasn’t angry with Brad about the breakup. He’d been honest with her, even gentle, which somehow made everything worse. He’d stopped loving her but couldn’t say why, leaving her to wonder where she had failed. Was it her personality? Or maybe he’d lost interest because she wouldn’t sleep with him before the wedding. Mia valued her purity, but sometimes, like when Brad walked away, she wondered what she was missing and if she really was too rigid, like he said.
A dull ache ballooned against her lungs, stealing her breath as she texted back. Be happy. I mean it.
“That’s it.” She tapped the screen, pulled up Brad’s contact info, and changed the photograph to a faceless icon.
The A/C groaned and throbbed in her ears. The lifeless television pitied her from its place on the wall. And the stuffed hen stared at her with its crossed eyes.
“Pathetic,” Mia muttered to the hen. “That’s what I am. Pathetic.”
She hated that feeling. Hated it. She didn’t have time for self-pity. She was a woman of action, right? She was brave. Stalwart. She had earned a Bachelor of Science in Nursing and a master’s degree, and she had raised Lucy at the same time.
Mia was strong and steady. But she also tired of being a boulder and wanted, maybe, for just one morning, to be a butterfly. Before she could talk herself out of what she was about to do, she snapped a picture of the hen and texted it to Jake Tanner.
See you at breakfast. My name is Mia.
Dressed in his black suit pants and starched white shirt, Jake made the first loop of a Windsor knot in his burgundy tie. He was almost finished when Pirate nudged him in the thigh. When Jake looked down, the dog trotted back to the nightstand, where Jake’s phone flashed with a message or call. He would have heard it, but he’d forgotten to reset the volume after leaving the coffee shop.
“Thanks, partner. I’ll get it in a minute.”
Pirate sat by the nightstand, his plume of a tail thumping as Jake cinched the knot against his Adam’s apple. The call was probably from Sam, maybe to remind him to bring the wedding rings. Nervous but confident, Sam had left the room he was sharing with Jake ten minutes ago to pick up Lucy and drive to the wedding chapel. Jake would join them there, and so would Lucy’s older sister, a woman Sam hadn’t yet met.
Pirate waited by the phone until Jake lifted it and saw his mother’s caller ID. The picture of Claire Tanner, taken before her Alzheimer’s diagnosis, yanked his heart out of his chest. She was in stage four now, approaching stage five—still herself but not always.
Jake would have done anything to save her this grief, but Alzheimer’s disease was unstoppable. All he could do was support her, love her, and back up his dad in her daily care, a task that exhausted them both. Jake’s younger sister and older brother both lived out of state and had families and busy lives. They called often, but there was nothing they could do to help right now except pray.
Had Claire meant to call, or was this one of her famous “moops” dials? Moops stood for Mom and oops. Even before the Alzheimer’s diagnosis, she’d been clumsy with her phone, though the joke no longer struck Jake as funny.
Steeling himself for a conversation that would be confusing at best, he called her back. After four rings, the call went to voice mail. Knowing she couldn’t remember how to retrieve a message, Jake hung up and called his dad.
Frank Tanner picked up immediately. “I thought you were in Vegas.”
“I am.” He told his dad about the missed call from his mom. “I’m just checking to be sure she’s all right.”
“Crud.”
“What?”
“I’m in the Springs. We were a day late on restocking the machines at the Mountain View.” A five-star hotel and a big account for Tanner Vending.
Jake usually handled the restocking, but between Sam’s wedding and a meeting with an attorney about establishing nonprofit status for the camp, he’d let the vending machines slide. “Is Mom home alone?”<
br />
“She’s at Barb’s house.” Her best friend and another retired teacher.
“She’s probably fine,” Jake said, “but I’d like to be sure.”
“Me too. I’ll call Barb.”
“Let me know, okay?” With Alzheimer’s, some days were better than others, but in Jake’s opinion, they were at the point where his mother couldn’t safely be left alone. He started to pace. “We need help, Dad.”
“I know, son. But who?” Frank heaved a soul-deep sigh. “There’s no one in Echo Falls. And besides, your mom won’t like it.”
“Sometimes there’s no choice.”
“I’d like to hold out until an apartment opens up at Westridge.”
Westridge Acres was a multi-tiered senior living community with a special memory neighborhood. Frank and Claire were on the waiting list for an apartment. The plan was to move while Claire had some small capacity to adapt, and for Jake to turn the house and ranch into a summer camp. Unfortunately the waiting list for Westridge was a mile long.
So far Jake and his dad had managed to meet Claire’s needs, but it was only a matter of time before her needs outpaced their ability to care for her. They needed help, but Jake decided not to push the issue over the phone. “Shoot me a text when you find her, okay?”
“Sure thing.” Frank ended the call.
Still holding the phone, Jake dropped down onto the bed opposite the one where Pirate was taking a nap. He couldn’t imagine his life without his dog. They had met when Jake went home to Echo Falls to recover from his injuries. Pirate, one of his mother’s rescue dogs, had taken to Jake immediately, and Jake’s audiologist had suggested training him to be a hearing dog.
They were a perfect match. When Pirate wasn’t working, he was an ordinary dog and Jake’s best friend. He was also a glutton for treats and clumsy, like when he knocked water in Nurse Girl’s lap.
Jake’s phone vibrated in his hand. Pirate jumped off the bed but sat when Jake signaled him to stay. Expecting good news from his dad, he opened the text and came face-to-face with the goofy hen he’d given to Nurse Girl. Below were the words, See you at breakfast. My name is Mia.
The Two of Us Page 2
