Eye of the Storm - By Hannah Alexander Page 0,21

Calvin’s Pharmacy and Fifties Soda Fountain after Lynley’s day in court. Though there had been tears over the divorce, there had also been plenty of healing laughter among dear, longtime friends.

And now Lynley was faced with this. And handling it poorly.

“She’s ruining her life, cutting herself off from the world.” Kirstie accepted the tissue Megan handed her.

“She’s here taking care of her mother. That’s how she sees it.”

Kirstie held Megan’s gaze. “Is that how you see it?”

“I deeply admire what she thinks she’s doing, I just don’t agree with the way she’s going about it. She can’t be on guard 24/7, and that puts you at risk.”

“That’s what concerns me,” Kirstie said. “What if something happens to me the next time my brain unexpectedly plunges me into Capps Creek? Not that I’m afraid for myself, because I’m as sure of my afterlife as you are of that stethoscope you live with, but I’m mother enough not to want my daughter to endure that pain.”

“Something happened to you this time.”

“I wasn’t terribly maimed. Somehow, I almost wish I had been at least slightly more injured. I should’ve never given her power of attorney.”

“You can always check yourself into a care center. I know of a good one in Springfield.”

“I tried that. Didn’t Lynley tell you? I went to Scrieb’s Health Care, had most of the arrangements made, started to sign the papers and had a brain glitch, right there. Can’t remember anything but fear and loss. They called the emergency number I’d just given them, and wouldn’t you know, Lynley came, showed them her DPOA papers and brought me back home. I was, of course, back in my right mind by the time she arrived to pick me up, but would anyone listen to me? She warned them that she would see to it that they would not receive funds to care for me.”

Megan’s annoyance with Lynley dug a deeper groove as she prepared a syringe and tubes for drawing blood. Why was Lynley risking her own mother’s safety to defy a doctor’s diagnosis? Where was her brain these days? And what made her think she was the only one capable of caring for her mother?

“Don’t blame her,” Kirstie warned, reading Megan’s expression with obvious ease.

“We need to get you checked into a safe place before something bad does happen to you and her whole life is corroded by guilt,” Megan said. “We could at least hire someone to work nights and keep watch, or we could rig up some kind of alarm system on your door.”

“It wouldn’t have helped last night. I wasn’t inside the house. I apparently just walked off the front porch without my shoes or anything. And no one can watch me every minute.”

Megan handed her friend another tissue. “I’ll drive you to Scrieb’s myself.”

“I’m on their reject list.”

“Take back power of attorney.”

“I’d rather not do anything that drastic.”

“You can stand up to your own daughter, Kirstie.” Megan said it, but she wasn’t sure she meant it. Lynley was the darling of Kirstie’s life, her only child, the source of her joy. Just as Alec was to Nora. Kirstie and Nora had a lot in common. Perhaps that was why they’d been so close for so many years despite their conflicting personalities. Kirstie would do anything to keep Lynley happy and safe.

Wasn’t that what most mothers did? The defining term was most. Megan sighed and withdrew her thoughts from that old and aching sore spot.

“What’s to stop Lynley from threatening nonpayment to the next place you try to check into?” Megan asked.

Kirstie suddenly focused her attention on Megan. “I have some ideas. Meanwhile, tell me when that gorgeous man out in the waiting room showed up.”

For a few seconds, the subject change caught Megan off guard, though it shouldn’t have. Kirstie often did that when she wanted to take control of a conversation.

“You’re deflecting,” Megan said. “This office visit is about you, not me, and I’m not finished talking about you.”

“He drove all the way from Corpus Christi to see you, didn’t he? What did I tell you last week?”

“Give it up, Kirstie. It isn’t going to work.”

Kirstie’s grin, though strained by the effects of the night before, was genuine. “I warned you that your heart was in danger, but I can see the warning came far too late.”

Megan positioned the syringe. “I’ll have Carmen prepare a medical release form for you to sign before you leave today so I can get your records.”

“Not Carmen.”

“Why not?”

“I want