“Yeah. They did stuff I won’t detail, given that I’ve now seen your squeamish side.” Lexi smiled, picturing him with the lobsters. “It looks like everything worked perfectly, so she’ll need cardiac rehab, but there’s no imminent danger in that department.”
She felt her chin quiver as she talked, like she’d been holding it together for days, just waiting for him to call. “She broke her hip when she fell, Gunnar. It’s—not good. That’s the part that’s going to take forever, I think.”
“God, Lex. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.”
“How’s your sister doing with all of this?”
Lexi inadvertently sniffed.
Dammit.
“Um, I think she’s convinced I’m going to up and leave her alone at any moment. I fully expect that when we’re able to bring Mom home, Katie’s going to lock me in with her and drop by with groceries once a week.”
“Oh, boy.” Gunnar sighed. “So how are you?”
“I’m—I don’t know.” Lexi put her head in her hands, elbows on her knees. “It’s kind of a lot to take in right now. I don’t know what we’re going to do, how we’re going to manage it, you know? I mean, it’ll all work out. I know it will. But it’s completely overwhelming at this moment.”
“I’m sure.” He was quiet for a long time, then, “I wish you weren’t so damn far away. I wish I could help you.”
Lexi smiled. “Me, too. But we’re okay. I’m okay. It’ll be…okay.”
“Do you need me to come?”
The tears fell for real at his soft question. That he would even consider doing it was beyond any hope she’d harbored, but there was no way she could let him leave everything in Montana to jump on a plane and come out here.
“It’s so sweet of you to ask, and I’d love that, but…no. There’s way too much going on out there. You can’t leave. We’re doing all right.”
“How long is she likely to be in the hospital?”
“They’re already looking for a rehab spot for a couple of weeks, and then hopefully she can be settled at home before school starts.”
“Are you going to have to take time off from school?”
“I don’t have a lot. She’s already eaten up all of my banked days. Katie’s going to have to chip in and help, though the thought gives her hives.”
“Sounds like maybe it’s time for little sis to grow up a little?” She heard a protective note in his tone, and as much as she loved it, she also felt bad about painting Katie in a not-so-flattering light.
“She’s doing her best. I think she really is.” Lexi sighed, putting her finger on her chin to stop it from quivering. “It—it’ll all work out.”
“Lex?” His voice was so soft it was killing her. “Honey, are you crying?”
Aw, dammit. And then he had to go and call her honey.
“No.” She tried not to sniffle. “I’m just tired.”
“Bullshit.”
“Fine. Yes. But I can’t help it. You’re the first friendly voice I’ve talked to since I got home. And I think maybe I…miss you.”
“I miss you, too.” She could hear the smile in his voice, could picture him sitting at the counter in his little cabin, could picture the couch where she’d thought they might cuddle after dinner on the night that seemed like yesterday and forever ago at the same time.
And then her breath caught on a tiny sob, because all that was gone. She’d gotten a taste of bliss and hope and the possibility of something besides what she knew, and now? Now she was stuck back in her hometown, taking care of a mother who would play desperate patient to the hilt.
“Can I call you tomorrow? Just to check in?” Gunnar’s voice was soft, sweet. She just wanted to reach through the phone and hug him tightly to her.
“Of course. Please.” She took a breath…let it out slowly. “Please do.”
“All right. Take care of yourself, Lex. Good night.”
He clicked off, and she sat in the chair for another five minutes, letting the tears stream down her face. With every tear that fell, she felt a mixture of abject sadness and all-consuming guilt. Because here she was crying over a love that may or may not have had a chance to grow into something beautiful, while her mother lay in an ICU bed recovering from a really serious, life-threatening event.
It seemed so damn selfish to be mourning the loss of possibility when really, she should be buckling down to make plans for getting her mother back on her feet.
Because if nothing else had become clear over the past three days, it was that Katie was never going to be the kind of person who could step up to the plate and deal with this. No. It was all Lexi.
Always had been.
Always would be.
—
“Morning, Gunnar. Have you heard from Lexi?” Kyla poked her head into the tack room on Friday morning. He was checking inventory before he headed into town for the weekly errand run, but his head was so muddled he’d counted the same frigging things three times now, and still couldn’t work out whether he needed to get more.
He nodded. “She’s doing all right. Not great, obviously.”
“Darn. I don’t want to bother her by calling. I’m sure they’re busy, but I want her to know we’re thinking about her.” She tapped on the wooden frame of the door. “I sure hope her mom’s going to be okay.”
Gunnar thought of the stories Lexi’d told him about her hypochondriac mother, and he felt a deep pang of sympathy for Lex sitting in that hospital waiting room. This was only the beginning, he knew. At the hospital, her mom would have a team of doctors and nurses at her beck and call. But when she got home, she would have…Lexi.
“I’m sure she’d love to hear from you. I think the hospital gets pretty lonely.”
“You okay, Gunnar?” Kyla reached out to touch his arm.
“Yeah. Sure.” He shook his head. “Just trying to catch up after missing days going after that horse. Do you need anything in town? Cole gave me a pile of stuff to get at Hooper’s, but I can stop anywhere else if you need anything.”
“I don’t need any hardware, but is the bakery on Cole’s list? By any remote chance?”
Gunnar raised his eyebrows. “If I tell you, will you run and tell Jess on him?”
“Not if you bring me a dozen of her chocolate chip cookies when you pick up his peanut butter ones.”
“Deal.” He smiled. “It’s really a wonder nobody at this ranch weighs four hundred pounds, with the amount of Jenny’s food we all eat.”
Kyla smiled and turned to go, then swung back, like she wanted to say something else, but wasn’t sure she should. She bit her lip, and Gunnar sighed.
Oh, boy. Here it comes.
“So I couldn’t help but notice that you and Lexi were—you know—getting kind of close.” She frowned. “I just wanted to say…I think she’s really nice. I thought you guys were good together. And I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to see if it could be more, before she had to go. That’s all.”
And then she was gone. Gunnar sighed, looking out the open window at the horses in the pasture. Goldie grazed peacefully, oblivious that the woman she’d tried so hard to torture that first day was probably never coming back.
Never. Coming. Back.
—
“Do you have my pills?” Mom called from the backseat as Lexi settled herself in the driver’s seat three weeks later. It was discharge day, and Mom was in seventh heaven. Oh, the attention! She’d been the perfect rehab patient, after all—did all of her exercises with a smile, passed her social work evaluation with flying colors, and couldn’t wait to get home so her darling daughters could take care of her.
The nurses had loved her, the physical therapists had commented on her drive, her stamina, her positive outlook, and even the cook had come up to the lobby to give her a special cookie to take home with her.
“You must just love your mother so much,” one nurse had leaned close to whisper to Lexi and Katie. “She’s just such a dear.”
But now they were in the car, and the doors were closed, and Mom and her walker were propped in the backseat. She smiled and waved as they pulled out of the driveway, and then heaved a gigantic sigh as soon as Lexi turned onto the road.
“My God, what a place. Thank heavens I’m finally out of there.”
Lexi looked in the rearview mirror. “You said you loved it there.”
“Well, of course I did, dear. What else was I going to say, with them all listening like they do? They could have poisoned me in my sleep!”
Katie’s eyes shifted to catch Lexi’s. “Mom? Pretty sure their goal is to get people healthy enough to go home, not to poison them.”
“I was just being dramatic, dear.” Mom fluffed her hair. “Your dad had the perfect phrase for this sort of thing. You never shit where you sleep, he’d say.”
Lexi and Katie both burst out laughing. Katie turned around. “You just swore, Mom!”
“I was quoting your father. It doesn’t count.”
“But you never swear.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “Maybe you’ve just never heard me.” She suddenly jumped, then started fishing through her purse. “Did you girls get my medications? They forgot to give me my medications.”
“We’ve got them, Mom.” Lexi felt her eyebrows pull together. “You just asked us that.”
“Oh, did I?”
Lexi turned her attention to the road, but her head was swirling a mile a minute with the information they’d heard in Mom’s discharge conference. The director and Mom’s primary nurse had asked Katie and Lexi to join them in the conference room before they brought Mom in, so they could discuss some concerns, they’d said.
Had Lexi and Kate noticed any lapses in Mom’s short-term memory, they wondered? When both girls shook their heads, they’d smiled understandingly. It can be subtle at first. Lexi had tipped her head. What do you mean—it?
Dementia.
Early-onset Alzheimer’s.
They’d said the words, even as they’d shaken their heads and admitted they hadn’t known her long, they could be wrong, it would definitely be worth talking to Mom’s doctor before getting overly concerned.
But those words struck terror into Lexi’s heart. She knew that, given a choice, her mother would opt for any other possible demise than to slowly feel her mind creep away from her while she watched helplessly. For a woman whose control over her own existence—and everyone’s around her—was legendary, this was the worst possible nightmare.
No need to panic, they’d said. Just keep an eye on her, and let her doctor know if you see anything that seems not quite right.
Maybe they were wrong. They had to be wrong.
Three months ago, her mother had been fine. Excessively needy and annoying, but fine. Could a person really decline that fast? Or had Lexi just not noticed that she’d been declining? She wracked her brain, looking back to last winter and spring, wondering if there’d been signs that she’d missed.
Sure, Mom was forgetful, but Lexi had chalked it up to her age. There’d been the time she’d left for an appointment with her shoes on the wrong feet, limping and complaining that nobody knew how to make good shoes anymore…but that could happen to anyone. And then there was that night when she’d almost drunk the vinegar at the diner, instead of her water, but she’d been talking, distracted. Lexi had just laughed and taken it from her before it got to her mouth, and Mom had laughed, too.
Had those been signs?
She glanced over at Katie, who was staring out the windshield with wide, scared eyes. She’d spent the summer filling Lexi in on Mom’s increasingly strange behavior, but both of them had figured Mom was just amping up her attention-seeking maneuvers because she was down to only one daughter to boss around.
“Girls?” Mom’s voice came from the backseat. “Did I ask you this already? Did one of you get my medications?”
Chapter 21
“Boo.” Lexi’s friend Stephanie poked her head through the nurse’s office door four weeks later. “Any vomiters in here?”
“No.” Lexi rolled her eyes. “You’re safe.”
Steph came in, looking around like she wasn’t quite sure whether to believe her. “Want some company for lunch?”
“Still trying to avoid Brian?”
“Absolutely. Never date and dump a science teacher, I’m telling you.”
Lexi laughed quietly as Steph sat down on the small couch and opened her lunch bag. “Noted. I was never big on science teachers, anyway.”
“So how are things? I feel like I’ve barely seen you since you got back from Montana.”
At just the name of the state, Lexi’s stomach did a flip. Montana. Whisper Creek. Heaven-on-earth. The place her head went when it could no longer process the situation here at home.
She shrugged carefully. “Things are—well, you know. Not great.”
“Is your mom driving you crazy?”
“In more ways than one, yes. But that’s not really new.” She took a deep breath. “The official diagnosis is, though. New, I mean.”
“Oh, Alexis. Really? They really think that’s what it is?”
“Yeah.” Lexi pushed her salad away, not hungry. She’d lost ten pounds since she’d returned to Maine, between the stress and her inability to force food down a constantly constricted throat.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Katie and I are trying to figure it out as we go. Some days I feel like I want a ten-year plan, just so I know we have one, but most days I’m struggling to put one foot in front of the other. It was bad enough when we were just rehabbing a broken hip and cardiac surgery—like that’s minor or something—but now this? My mother is freaking out.”
“As would we all.” Steph sighed. “I’m so sorry, Lexi. How does this—what does this mean…for Gunnar?”
At the mention of his name, Lexi pressed her lips together, wishing the physical pain of missing him would start getting better one of these days. But it hadn’t.
For the first week she’d been home, he’d called every day. The second week, it’d been every other day or so. By the fourth week, he’d called only once. The last three times she’d talked to him, she’d had to hang up because Mom had needed her, and every single time, she hadn’t been sure whether he’d want her to call back later.
He was busy, he’d said. Two new horses had come in from a rescue ranch in Nevada. Corporate groups had booked up the ranch for most of fall, so he was doing double-duty because some of the young punks, as he called them, had headed back to college.
He’d always asked how she was doing, and he’d always sounded like he cared what the answer might be…but after a few weeks, the distance between them had become too palpable to ignore.
His life was there.
Hers was here.
And now that Mom was looking down a ten-years-at-best gun barrel, all of those teeny little sparks of possibility Lexi had harbored out in Montana were dying slow, painful deaths. She couldn’t leave here, even if she’d had time to see if she and Gunnar might have turned into something worth leaving for.
And now she’d never find out.
—
“You dizzy yet?” Cole called from the fence that evening, as Gunnar watched Duke’s legs carefully. Despite the padding Gunnar had put up inside his stall, the poor horse had still managed to work himself into a frenzy last week that had left him with a three-inch gash in one leg. He was moving all right tonight, though, and Gunnar had been determined to get him outside for some crisp September air.
“Yep. But he’s looking better.”
“You thinking about knocking off at any point? Decker and I are meeting Danny in town for a couple of beers. No tourists. We’ll have Salty’s to ourselves.”
“What? No karaoke?” Gunnar rolled his eyes. “Sorry. No dice. I’m gonna hang
here.”
“Hey, Gunnar? Maybe I’m out of line here, but I’m pretty sure these horses aren’t going to help you erase Lexi from your head, no matter how many hours you work.”
Gunnar stopped his motions, making Duke snort in surprise. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Cole sighed, leaning on the fence.
“Let me ask you something.”
“I reserve the right to plead the Fifth.”
“Fair enough. Do you miss her?”
“Miss her like hell, yeah.” Might as well tell the truth, since Cole had his mother’s way of seeing right through people who didn’t.
“And what are you doing about it? Besides walking horses in circles till you’re too dizzy to walk yourself?”
“What can I do about it, Cole? She’s in Maine, for Christ’s sake. She’s got a mother with an Alzheimer’s diagnosis—not to mention a job and a home. No way she’s going anywhere, so what could I possibly do?”
Cole shrugged slowly.
“Ever consider going to her?”
“And do what? Live in Maine?”
“People do. It’s a thing.” Cole smiled. “I imagine they even have horses. Maybe you could find a piece of land there.”
Gunnar blew out a breath, then loose-tied Duke and grabbed him a pile of hay to munch on. He walked over to Cole and matched his pose, one tier down the fence line.
“I’ve thought about it. More than I want to admit.”
“And?”
“And it’s insane. Jesus, Cole, I barely know her, y’know? And the last few times I’ve talked to her, she only manages about a minute before she has to go. Doesn’t really give a guy the warm fuzzies.”
“I’m sure she’s distracted with everything going on there. She doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who’d purposely blow you off.” Cole looked out over the mountains. “She might just be at a loss for what to say to you at this point. I mean, honestly? You told me what her mother was like before everything happened. And now she’s looking at spending the next however many years taking care of her? On her own? I’d think it’d be hard to make casual conversation about the weather, with all she’s dealing with.”
“I know. And it’s killing me that we didn’t have even one more week, y’know? I felt like we were both this close to jumping off the cliff together, parachutes be damned, and then bam. She’s gone.”
Unlucky in Love Page 20
