Page 49 of Date Knight (Roll for Romance #2)

I coughed lightly into my napkin. “Well, that’s really kind,” Isaid, “but I don’t think that’s feasible for me. I couldn’t be away from Ethel for that long.”

“Oh!” Patricia said, bringing her hands up in front of her. “I’m so sorry that wasn’t clear. Of course Ethel’s invited too. That was part of the reason why we thought a cruise might be a good fit, because it’s so accessible. We can even get one out of a UK port.”

I nodded as if that made sense, but inside I was panicking. I wanted to be literally anywhere else, but everyone was looking at me, and I could tell they were expecting an answer, or at least an indication, now.

Amy grabbed my hand under the table, and I took that as a sign of solidarity, so I finally replied.

“That’s so thoughtful,” I said, “and thank you again. But I just don’t think it’s sensible for us, or for Ethel especially.”

“Bollocks,” Ethel said, proving exceedingly unhelpful. “Maybe I haven’t been on a cruise in a while, but it’s the classic old person holiday for a reason, right?”

I shook my head. “Ethel, I don’t think you’re thinking it through.” And this is the most lucid you’ve been in months, I didn’t add. Maybe if she’d been her usual self, it would have been clearer why I was so resistant.

“She’s not wrong,” Amy said, and I spun to look at her, shocked that she wasn’t on my side.

“What do you mean?” I asked, genuinely not understanding.

She shrugged. “Well, they are pretty accessible, and even if she did have different needs by then, we could adapt. Maybe stay on the ship instead of going into the ports.”

“I don’t think she’d be up for that,” I said, but Ethel smacked my upper arm hard enough that it stung.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here. I may be old, but I’m still a person.”

I turned around to face her. “I know you are. Of course you are. I’m just trying to look out for you. Think about your back. Can you imagine walking on the deck of a moving ship? Much less one that’s crossing the North Sea?”

Ethel frowned, and I could tell that, at least on some level, she understood.

But honestly, that wasn’t even the half of it.

I could picture her waking up and forgetting where she was, and panicking, and maybe hurting herself.

Or getting disoriented walking down a long hallway of identical staterooms. Or having an irritable moment and smacking the arm of someone who wasn’t me and getting in trouble for it.

It would be a nightmare, probably for both of us.

“That’s okay, let’s park it,” Amy said, smiling, clearly trying to defuse the tension. “We can talk about it later.”

“We don’t have to talk about it later,” I snapped, and I saw her wilt, but I couldn’t help it. It felt like no one was listening. “Thank you so much for the offer. It means a lot, really. But it’s just not a good idea for us. Sorry.”

Alan and Patricia both nodded, but Amy just looked up at me, a wounded expression on her face. I couldn’t handle it. I was trying to do the right thing for Ethel, which was usually her priority, too. So why was she trying to gang up on me?

I pushed back from the table and excused myself, aware that I was being rude, but I just needed a minute.

I found myself upstairs in the hallway, not sure where to go.

My first instinct had been to go into Jack’s bedroom– the last time I’d been upstairs in the Evanses’ house I’d been nineteen at most– but it was clear when I opened the door that Patricia had turned it into her office, so I backed out again.

I heard a creak on the stairs and turned to see Amy step into the corridor. And as overwhelmed as I felt, as on edge as I was, seeing her felt like letting a little bit of air out of the situation.

“We can go in here,” she said, nodding me towards her room. It felt weird to follow her in there, but where else was I supposed to go? And I supposed if I couldn’t have a moment alone, at least I could clear the air with her.

Stepping into her room was like stepping back in time.

Her walls were the same pink they’d been since she was a kid, there were height markings on the doorframe, and there were glow-in-the-dark stars I knew Jack had helped her put up when they were younger.

But other than that, it looked completely unlived in.

There were boxes everywhere, and the wardrobe, which was open, was empty except for a dozen or so dresses and jumpsuits on wire hangers.

Amy appeared to be living entirely out of the dresser, which was covered in her crystals and incense and card decks.

“Wow,” I said dumbly. “It’s different in here than I would have expected.”

“How so?”

“Well, you haven’t exactly made yourself at home. You’ve been back a year now, haven’t you?”

She sat down on the bed and shrugged, patting beside her. But I didn’t join her.

“Sorry about that downstairs,” I said instead, standing in front of her. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s okay,” she said, smiling. “We can go over things together later. I get that it freaked you out, so we’ll do as much research as needed so you feel good about it.”

I frowned. “Amy, I’m not apologising about not wanting to go. I was apologising for how I spoke to you. But I’m not going without Ethel, and Ethel absolutely cannot go.”

Amy held my gaze as she took a deep breath, and I felt my jaw set in anticipation of an argument. Heaven knew I’d had enough of them with her over the years, but not usually about something that actually mattered.

“Why don’t you want to do this?” she asked, crossing her arms. “Why don’t you want to come on holiday with us?”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “You know that’s not what’s happening here. Don’t be like that.”

“You’re right,” she said. “What’s happening here is that you seem to have zero interest in finding a way to make things work. The first suggestion offered didn’t fit your idea of what was achievable, so instead of having a fucking conversation, you just shut it down.”

“You and I both know I can’t just pack up and go away for two weeks, no matter what the holiday looks like.”

“A week and a half,” she said, as if that made a difference. “And isn’t that what carers are for? If we plan around Anil’s schedule, we could?—”

“ No , Amy!” I said, my voice raised now.

“I’m not leaving her for that long, and that’s final.

What if something happened? And I don’t even mean the worst thing.

I mean, what if she started sundowning and Anil got hurt?

What if she fell again? The only reason I can go away for things like the ball and the festival is because I can get back in an emergency if I need to.

I can’t very well be airlifted back from some fjord if I’m needed, and that’s assuming I could get the call to begin with. ”

“So let her come with us!” Amy shouted back, though I could tell even she knew that wasn’t an option. “Or let’s think of something different! Don’t just write it off. It doesn’t have to be a yes or no.”

“It’s very much a yes or no,” I said. “We’re going on a two-week Norwegian fjords cruise. Wanna come? Yes or no.”

“They said they were thinking about Norway, Phil.” Amy rubbed her face, and for a moment I thought she was wiping tears away, and I softened slightly.

But there was just frustration in her eyes when she looked back up.

“They want to take all of us on holiday together, and they were trying to be thoughtful.”

“And I appreciate that, I do. But I just can’t do it, Amy.”

“And when will you?” she asked, flinging her arms out to the sides.

“When she’s gone? Because that’s not fair to you, Phil, and it’s not fair to her either.

You’re taking on too much, and she wouldn’t want you giving up things like holidays and nights out.

You’ve already given up your twenties to care for her. ”

“Don’t you dare speak for her,” I said, pointing a finger in Amy’s face, my voice low and rough. She didn’t balk, but I did see surprise flicker across her expression.

“Something’s gonna have to bend, Phil,” she said, bringing her hand to wrap around my finger, lowering it. “Otherwise something’s going to break, and that something will probably be you.”

Or us was the unspoken end to that, and I knew it.

I felt my lip start to shake, and before I even knew why, Amy’s face softened, and she reached up to wipe away the tears that had started slipping down my face.

She pressed up onto her toes and kissed my face– each cheek in turn, each eye, my forehead, my mouth– and then wrapped me in her arms. I tried to swallow the tears, but they wouldn’t stop, and before long I was sobbing into her shoulder.

“I’m just so tired,” I said through the sobs. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” she said, stroking my hair. “I know it’s not.”

At some point my knees started to go weak, and she squeezed me tighter to keep me up.

“It’s okay,” she said, her breath hot against my ear as she spoke. “I’m here. And I always will be.”