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Her face blanches. “Oh, oh my. I didn’t realize. Is he still sick?”
“Yes.”
A thoughtful frown twists her lips. “Are you his caretaker then?”
“Mom.”
“Nardi, I’m sure he has a sad story, but you shouldn’t allow love to turn you into a white man’s personal maid and nurse. Especially if he hasn’t even married you.”
I barely restrain my laughter. If only she knew how badly Cullen wanted to marry me.
“What if this is a scam?”
“Really, mom?” I groan.
“I told you. People in the States aren’t like people in Belize. American culture is far more dangerous and cold. They can spot a weak, naive girl a mile away. What if this guy is trying to take advantage of your big heart?”
“I promise that’s not it, mom.”
“Did you forget?” Mom follows me as I reach for a bowl in the cupboard. “I was a caretaker for ten years and it’s a very hard job.”
“I’m not Cullen’s caretaker. It’s actually the other way around. Cullen sends someone to help me if I so much as lift a broom or try to drive myself around. He won’t even let me wash my own hair.”
Mom’s eyes sail to my hair that’s drying in loose waves. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“So that’s what you were doing before I came in?” One eyebrow arches in wicked intrigue.
I groan. “Mom, no. We weren’t doingthat?”
“I know you, Nardi. You’re a proud, independent woman just like me. But you’re waiting on that man hand and foot. You argue with him but you ultimately listen to whatever he tells you. You might sass him on the outside, but you’re in-tune to every look on his face. I’ve never seen you like this with anyone, not even Malcolm.”
It’s strange. Before I met Cullen, just the sound of Malcolm’s name would upset me. But today, all I can think about are those painkillers Cullen has. They don’t look like your average Tylenol.
“And you know what they say,” Mom continues. “It’s not the buff men in the gym who have it going on. It’s the tall, skinny ones.” She makes a long gesture with her hands and winks.
I cringe. “Mom, don’t make jokes like that in front of him or I’m putting you back on the plane to Belize, myself.”
Mom’s cackling follows me down the hallway.
Just as I’m trying to balance the soup in one hand and reach for the knob with the other, the door swings open. Cullen stands in front of me. His shirt is buttoned now and the beanie is back on his head.
He grips the door for balance and I tilt my neck up to meet his eyes.
“What are you doing up? I brought the soup. It’s not too hot so it should be ready to eat now.”
At that moment, there’s another knock on the door.
“Nardi, do you want me to get that?” My mother calls from the kitchen.
“Yes, mom.” I re-focus on Cullen. “Go back to bed.”
“I called Asad and Dr. Young,” Cullen says, avoiding my gaze. The lingering effects of his discomfort are etched in the lines around his mouth and eyes. Even hanging his head can’t hide the increasing signs of his fatigue.
“Why?” I demand.
“They’re going to watch me while I get down the stairs. I think I can make it on my own, but I know you’ll worry if I’m alone.”