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Tonight, she was just the concerned family member, and that was the worst role she’d played in the medical world yet. As a patient it had been hard to sit and wait—for labs, for nurses as they changed over, for the physician to come in off his rounds and answer the millions of questions she’d garnered overnight—but she’d ultimately been able to advocate for herself if she needed to.

Now that it was her dad as a patient, no one would talk to her. She was forced to use her mom as an intermediary, that is, if her mom could stop sobbing long enough to listen to the questions Paige needed her to ask the doctors. At least her mom was resting now.

As if thinking about her mom summoned her, the doors to the emergency room lobby parted and Marge came out, sniffling and wiping her nose on her sleeve.

She put a protective arm around Paige, squeezing her tightly. That small act of kindness, of being seen, was almost enough to break the dam of emotion that welled up just behind the professional part of her that needed to take charge.

“How you holding up, honey?” Marge’s eyes were red, but her voice was steady.

“I’m okay. Better than my brother,” she said, a smile pulling the corners of her mouth up for the first time since earlier that day. She looked at her watch and found that it was after one in the morning. Wow. At least that shit show of a day was over.

“You got a hold of him, hmm?”

“You could say that. Wait till you see your prodigal son. Steel yourself against your image of him as the ideal child.” Paige laughed, but her mom’s brow furrowed, no humor to be found on her austere expression.

“Paige, you know he wasn’t the ‘favorite,’ right?” Paige’s heart thumped against her chest and sweat pooled under her arms despite the chill in the air. She hated talking about family dynamics.

“I know that,” she shot back, realizing as she said it how defensive it sounded. Her mom pulled her in tighter.

“Believe it or not, you were always a daddy’s girl. I was always jealous of your relationship with your father. I wanted so badly to have you to myself sometimes, to take you to the city for an overnight date, to get our nails done together. I loved your strength, but I’m sorry if I let my jealousy stop me from saying that as often as I should have.”

Paige’s bottom lip quivered as the tears came, hot and heavy. Where was this all coming from?

“Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to make you cry, I just haven’t had a lot of time to talk to you alone the past few years. You’ve been flitting through here on your way to someplace better, not at all like I blame you, but it took you getting sick for me to have the courage to talk to you. Besides, you’re an adult now. You can hear it, and hopefully you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

Paige’s whole body shook with sobs, the chink in her armor shattered now.

“I’m sorry I haven’t stuck around,” she got out between sobs.

“Oh, honey, don’t be. I know you’ve got the world by the horns, and I don’t expect you to stop for me. I wouldn’t have, if I hadn’t met your father.”

Paige’s tears ebbed, but her mouth dropped open in surprise. She didn’t really know how her parents had met, fallen in love, settled in Banberry. She’d been too young to care when she’d lived with them, then she was too cool to ask about her provincial parents when she came home for visits. It was always all about her—her trips, her travels, her job. She’d been so selfish.

“What do you mean?” she asked her mom.

“Well, I was a lot like you when I was younger. Couldn’t wait to get out of Helena. I thought that place was a pit, and back then, I guess it sort of was. They’ve done so much to bring it back, you know.” Paige nodded along, not wanting to break the spell her mom was under, sharing like a sorority girl after a few drinks.

“Anyway,” her mom continued, “I wanted to leave, did for a bit, actually. Did I ever tell you I joinedUp with Peoplefor a season?” Marge chuckled but Paige looked at her mom like she had sprouted wings. It was as believable as her mom—her by-the-book, do-the-right-thing mother—running off and joining the circus.

“Youwhat?”

Marge just smiled, her eyes fixed on something a thousand miles away.

“I was one of the lead singers. Oh, I could carry a tune,” she said, lost in her thoughts.

Paige recalled that much. Her mom would sing her and Brad such captivating lullabies each night. Paige wished on every shooting star to have a voice like her mother’s, but no such luck. She’d never imagined that her mom had done anything with that voice, though.

“I even had an affair with one of the dancers. Kristoff, I think his name was. He moved beautifully on the stage, but that was nothing compared to what he could do behind closed doors,” Marge said, fanning herself now.

“Mom!”

“What? You aren’t the only one to be young and ambitious. I’m just saying I understand where your drive comes from.”

“Why’d you give all that up? Especially for Banberry,” Paige said. That last word,Banberry, slid off her tongue like a vegetable she didn’t want to eat, slimy and sour.

“Your father.” Her father? Alan Connors had inspired her free-spirited mother to give up her dreams, some guy named Kristoff, and settle in small-town America?

“You’ve got to give me more than that, Mom. I mean, Dad? How’d he convince you to trade in on your dreams for his?”