writing couldn’t hide the fact that moods didn’t fare as well.
But eighteen. One of her girls was near that, one still a bit younger. And the last time he’d seen them, the day of his mother’s funeral, eighteen had seemed very, very grown up to him. Maybe he could approach Missy that way. "Listen, I know that this is a weird time for your mom. For you. Your grandma just fell off a table doing karaoke."
He waited. Nothing.
"I’d like to tell you there’s nothing going on between your mother and me. There’s not at the moment." He laughed. "’Cause we’re in a hospital."
He waited. More nothing. He made a drum motion anyway. "Pah-dum."
Missy turned to him, expressionless, but it was a start. "Honestly, I don’t have any idea what’s going on or not going on and neither does your mother. I’m sorry because it would be good to be clear. I’d like that. She’d like that. You’d like that."
Missy studied him without blinking. She was a very tough crowd.
"I don’t want to do hurt your mom. That I know. I don’t know that I won’t. I’m even more imperfect than your average person who would say they’re not perfect. I did hurt her a long time ago, a lot, and I owe it to her to be less of an idiot at forty. I’m not, but I owe it to her. And, well, and I’ll try. No matter what. Really."
He should go. He should just go and not just from this girl who was Gwen’s and wonderful, he knew, underneath all the hostility and general meanness he’d seen her demonstrate toward her mother. He should go from Gwen too. He didn’t have any business, any at all, bumping up against her life.
Gwen appeared in the lobby, wild-eyed and breathing heavily, and he shot out of his chair and took her hands, looking into her face to offer calm. "What is it?"
"It’s a really bad sprain."
"A really bad sprain?" He looked at her closely, what was he missing?
Missy stood at his shoulder. "Is she okay? It’s just a sprain?"
"A really bad sprain. No cast. It’s soft tissue damage! Soft tissue damage!"
"Mom? It’s a sprain. People get those all the time."
"And they take even longer to heal than a break, especially when you’re older like grandma." She turned to him with panic in her eyes. "She lives alone. She’s going to need help, and I live in a dorm room!" She seemed to get lost in emergency planning in her head and talked mostly to herself. "I’ll have to go back home and stay with her. And my classes…"
"She should stay with Max." Missy nudged him forward.
He watched Gwen’s eyes widen in surprise. She’d been pale since her mother had fallen. He knew what it was like to watch that happen, what it was like to see the woman who had raised you suddenly need you. He felt Missy’s hand on his shoulder, saw her other hand on Gwen’s. She squeezed his. "I think it’s a great idea. Don’t you, Mom? Thank you, Max."
"Really?" Gwen turned to Missy.
He wasn’t the kind of guy people thought of for eldercare. No one dropped any orphans on his doorstep in baskets either or even asked to borrow a cup of sugar. He’d never been the go-to person for caretaking or stability. But he had, in the end, been there for his mother and hadn’t he stayed in Belmar to try stability out? He studied Missy. She obviously loved her grandmother. Was she really going to leave her in his care? "Really?"
"Absolutely." Missy smiled so beautifully he was momentarily stunned. There was the girl that was Gwen’s.
Gwen seemed confused, and Missy gave her a little push back to the exam room. He watched Gwen, who was more than a little stunned, make her way back to tell Ellen the news.
Missy turned to him, and he saw a bit of her father’s calculation. It was a good mix, he had to admit, even though it wouldn’t be to his advantage. She smiled again. "My mother taught me that if I’m not sure about a boy, it’s wiser to have a chaperone."
Ah. It wasn’t safety Missy had seen in him, it was danger. That too was fair. Still, she was smirking again, and he needed to be clear. "This isn’t a game between us, Missy."
"You’re right. But if it were, I’d be winning."
For however long it took to heal, he was going to have Ellen in his bed,