Unlucky in Love (20 page)

She knew he was still on the road, so she hadn't even called or texted him herself yet. He probably imagined she was still safe at Whisper Creek, sitting by the window in her cozy little cabin.

Lexi took a deep breath, pulling a pad of paper out of her purse. “So I think we need to start making some plans for when Mom gets out of here. Her insurance plan will have her booted long before we're ready, so we need to prepare, whether we like it or not.”

“Okay.” Katie took a deep breath. “What do we need to do?”

“Well, for starters, one of us is going to have to stay with her for a while.”

Katie tipped her head, but didn't speak for a long moment. “You're thinking that's…you, right?”

“Or…we could take turns.” As guilty as Lexi felt about not being here when Mom needed her, she had this sudden resistance to the martyrdom she'd displayed for most of her life. “She's your mother, too.”

“I know. And I know that'd be fair. But Lexi, seriously. You're better with her.”

“I'm better with her because I've been the one who's been her go-to girl for the past ten years, not because I've got some natural affinity for this sort of thing.”

“But you're a nurse.”

“And you're a bed-and-breakfast manager. Both of those are skill sets we're going to need, in equal measure.”

Katie frowned. “You're not going to make this easy, are you?”

“I'm not trying to make it hard. It's just our reality right now. I'll need to go back to work, too.”

“But don't you get, like, twenty sick days or something?”

“No.” Lexi shook her head. “I already used them for Mom's previous…issues, when
you
couldn't take time off.” She knew Katie heard the silent reprimand in her words, but she was too tired to take them back.

Katie spun her cup in faster circles, and Lexi shifted her chair to the side in case the stupid thing dumped.

“Lex, I'm scared.”

“Of what?”

She took a deep breath. “Of her needing us…like, forever. I mean, I pictured it coming someday, but not
now
.”

“She's our mother, Kate.” Lexi tried to make her voice even and soft, instead of angry and resentful, like she actually felt. “We'll figure it out, okay?”

She put away the pad and pen. It had been stupid to get it out in the first place. She'd just been desperate to be able to do something,
anything
besides sit in that damn windowless room waiting for the ten-minute window when they were allowed in to see Mom.

“I'm sorry, Alexis.” Katie sighed. “I'm just…not so great with the whole caregiver thing.”

Lexi tipped her head. “You care for people for a living, Kate. It's what you do.”

“But they're not sick. I don't do
sick
people.”

“Well, I'll tell you what. I'll try to handle the medical stuff that might make you crazy, if you'll play gin rummy with her every day.”

Katie reached across the table and took Lexi's hand. “We'll be okay, right? I mean, I know
she'll
probably be okay at this point, but you and me? We'll be good? You won't leave me? You promise?”

Lexi squeezed her hand, thinking of the one man who'd ever made her think that maybe, just maybe, she could be the center of someone else's universe, instead of the other way around.

“I'm not going anywhere, Kit-Kat.” She sighed, sitting back in her chair and sipping the terrible, nothing-like-Jasper's coffee. “Nowhere at all.”

That night, as she sat in the waiting room trying to find some amusement in the comic sections of
Readers' Digest,
Lexi felt her phone vibrate in her purse. All day long, she'd been trying not to look at the damn thing, knowing Gunnar was due back at Whisper Creek this afternoon. All day long, she'd tried to wait one more hour before calling him, because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't bring herself to text. It just seemed hideously impersonal, after their last conversation.

She dug the phone out, then put her hand to her mouth when she saw his name pop up.

“Who is it?” Katie asked, leaning over from the uncomfortable chair next to Lexi's.

“It's…Gunnar.”

Katie took a deep, unsteady breath. “The cowboy.”

“Yeah.” Lexi pressed her lips together, tapping on the text icon to see his message. When it came up, she couldn't help but smile. She'd had three days to toss his words through her mind at warp speed, frontward and backward and upside down, and because she was—well, who she was—she was dead afraid that in those same three days, he'd maybe realized he'd leaped way too soon into way too personal territory the other night. She'd pictured his extraction messages, one by one, every possibility, until she'd finally put a pillow over her head to try to sleep.

But here on her phone, in sweet little letters, were the words
Dying to talk to you. Can I call?

“I'm going to go out to the hallway and give him a call,” she told Katie, who just nodded tightly.

When she found a private nook with a chair, she took a deep breath and sent a little prayer upward. Then she called. Before the phone finished the first ring, he answered, and a feeling of such sweet, warm gratitude swept through her that she almost cried.

“Lex.” His voice was deep, concerned. “How are you doing?”

“Well? Could be better, to be honest. Thanks for texting.”

“I'm so sorry I didn't know sooner. I had no cell service the entire trip, and it was a quick turnaround on the other end. How's your mom?”

“She's…okay. She's going to be fine, I think. It's just—it's going to be a long, uphill battle to get there.”

“So her heart? It's okay?”

“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.”

When she'd turned away, Katie had elbowed Lexi. “Who is this person they're all talking about? Because I don't think we've met her.”

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.