Jameson (In the Company of Snipers #22) - Irish Winters Page 0,71
Don’t you remember me? Did you forget? I Lexie!”
Alex looked up at the ceiling, trying hard not to laugh while his eyes brimmed with stinging tears of love. How could anyone forget his Lexie Rose?
“Chair,” he told his daughter, the one who would be the death of him someday. God, she was a rascal. How could Kelsey resist this precocious little angel they’d created? So what if she came with horns? She was so damned cute.
“Okay, Daddy,” she mumbled through her tears. “I’ll be a good girl now.”
If Kelsey hadn’t been standing there, he knew damned well he’d have been on his knees hugging that sassy, smarty-pants. Worse, he’d have forgiven Lexie, helped her do her chore, maybe even have done it for her. They’d both be kissing Bradley by now, maybe enjoying a root beer float with the cute little bendy straws Lexie liked. But he wasn’t, because Kelsey was the strong parent, not him. He was the slave. A total fool for the women he adored.
“We won’t be long,” Kelsey warned her daughter sternly. “If you have everything picked up by the time we get back, I have a surprise for you.”
“Okay!” Lexie cried with gusto. Man, she could turn those tears on and off at the drop of a hat. Which made Alex an even bigger fool.
Two doors down, he entered his sanctuary with Kelsey one step ahead. “You should be in bed,” he told her.
“I will as soon as Libby gets back. Promise.”
The moment he closed their bedroom door, she spun on her heels. “Can’t you see what’s going on with your dad, Alex?”
“Other than he’s lying to you, no. Mel’s a con artist, sweetheart. He’s only here because—”
“Because he’s an old man, Alex. He’s got nowhere else to go, and he’s got dementia. Maybe Alzheimer’s.”
“He’s what?”
Kelsey fell into Alex’s arms, her fingertips softly patting his collarbones under his suit jacket. “He’s nearly seventy-five, honey. He was much older than your mother when they married. I looked up their marriage certificate online when he told me that, because, well…” She shrugged. “I don’t trust him any more than you do.”
“But he slapped your ass. I saw him hit you.” Any other guy would’ve already died for that. Why not good old Mel? Seemed fair.
She tossed her head as if that mortal sin were nothing, and over Alex’s hands on her shoulders tumbled all that dark chocolate hair. There wasn’t a part of his wife that Alex wasn’t addicted to, and the glimmer off those dark brown tangles reminded him how he was wrapped around her little finger.
“Oh, for goodness sake. Old men do stuff like that all the time. It means nothing. They just forget who they’re with, and sometimes, even what day it is. When somebody comes along who reminds them of someone else, like their wife or girlfriend or mother, they lose touch with reality, and sometimes, they behave inappropriately toward that person. He didn’t mean anything when he grabbed my butt. Trust me. I’ve seen this kind of thing happen with some of the older guys who wander into Raymond’s Place. He needs help, Alex. Our help. I can’t just toss him into the street because you’re still mad at him.”
Raymond’s Place was the home for runaway teenagers that Kelsey managed across the Potomac River in Washington, DC. Originally intended as a safe haven just for teenagers, she’d taken in more than a few homeless vets over the years. Quite a few of them worked for her now.
“Other old guys have slapped your butt? And you didn’t tell me?” That needed to stop.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, knock it off. It means nothing. Especially not from elderly men who have nowhere to go and no one to watch out for them.”
Her overly kind perspective of his old man set Alex back. “Are you sure he’s sick?”
“I’m no doctor, but yes, sweetheart. Mel isn’t the same person who left you and your mom. He might act tough, but I’ll bet he’s just a shadow of the man he used to be. The older he gets, the more help he’ll need. McKenna said she’d stop by and give him a quick assessment this afternoon. There are ten signs that’ll tell us what we need to know. She gave me the name of a geriatrician who’ll see Mel today. I already made an appointment. It’s at three o’clock. If you take him, I’ll call McKenna and tell her there’s no need to stop by.”