Page 19 of Mic Drop (Passionate Beats #3)

Jenna

“ W e have more flowers in here than a hothouse nursery,” Ma remarks, even as she stops to smell the newest delivery—a multicolored vase filled with white roses. Knuckles white against the side of the table, she plucks a bloom and rubs it against her cheek.

“It certainly is a beautiful addition to your home. And mine. And both clinics.” I smell a red rose from another day’s delivery.

The doorbell rings. “I wonder what your boy sent now?”

I giggle. “Let’s find out.” I rush to the door where a delivery person hands me a couple of pizza boxes. I scramble for a tip, even though Bennett’s told me repeatedly he’s handled everything. “Thank you.”

“What is it?”

Ma makes her way into the living room and stands beside her chair, her hand reaching for the back of it. She’s a fighter. She tires more easily, takes longer and longer naps during the day, but is still relatively mobile. A quad cane rests in the corner for added stability, courtesy of Kara.

I read from the top of the box. “It’s pizza from what’s billed as ‘ The Best Pizza Place in Chicago.’” My mouth waters. I love New York pizza but am more than willing to suffer through trying a deep dish all the way from the Windy City.

“Not too boastful, are they?”

“I guess we better try it to decide. You stay here, I’ll heat this up.” I rush into the kitchen and preheat the oven, while putting two slices from the first pie onto a cookie sheet. They’re massive. And saucy. And filled with mushrooms. Yum.

The ring on my left hand catches the light and I stare at it.

When Bennett was here last, he put this ring on my finger, and I swear it was made for me.

The diamond is a round cut solitaire, so it won’t snag when I’m “working with a patient,” as he said.

The setting isn’t too high, either. The fact it’s a flawless two carats on a platinum band makes it timeless. Like the man who gave it to me.

I break free from my woolgathering when the temperature alert bings, sliding the cookie sheet into the oven.

I place two plates onto the counter and bring napkins and silverware into the living room.

Once the makeshift table is set in front of Ma, I repeat the same for myself.

Returning to the kitchen, I take out the hot pizza and bring the full plates with me.

“Oh my, this smells divine,” Ma places her face closer to the pizza and inhales.

At least she still has her zest for food. I pause in setting my napkin on my lap. I glance over at her, watching her chew. “Good?”

“Oh my God. This is fantastic. Don’t get me wrong, I love our pizza out here, but this is different in a really amazing way. What did the note say?”

Bennett always includes a note with his presents. I pick it up and clear my throat. “UC enjoyed this restaurant during our stop in Chicago and I thought of you two. Maybe save me a slice?”

“When’s he coming back again?”

“Today.” I glance at my watch. “In five hours, twenty minutes, and thirty seconds. But who’ s counting?”

“Right. Who would do such a crazy thing? How long will he be able to stay this time?”

“Two whole days!”

She smiles around another forkful of pizza. “He was here what? A week ago? How many breaks does UC have anyway?”

“Only these short ones in between gigs. He’s coming up on a two-week break soon, though.” I’m excited to spend fourteen whole days with him. My engagement ring glimmers with its secrets.

“You’ll appreciate that, I bet.” Her fork clatters onto her remaining pizza, about one-half of the slice. She did a good job.

“I will. Especially if our PR campaign keeps going as it has.” Hayden has done a bang-up job. With Ma’s health taking up more of my attention, having her has been a UC godsend. One I now admit was more than needed.

Ma reaches into the pocket of her chair and pulls out the book she’s reading, flips it open, and removes the bookmark, which is actually one of the bumper stickers Hayden created.

Holding it in the air, she reads the slogan, “We’ll Fix All Your Limbs.

” The At Your Service PT logo is set next to a cartoon depiction of a spider with therapists working on all eight legs.

“This is brilliant. You got back at that Michelle without calling her out by name. As Don Vito Corleone said, ‘revenge is a dish that tastes best when it’s cold.’”

I lower my fork to my empty plate. “Actually, that was from a deleted scene in Part Two of The Godfather .”

She smiles. “I stand corrected by my Godfather buff.”

“If only Bennett would see it your way.” Our ongoing Godfather debates take up a good part of our texts.

The rest are general information about our days, Ma, and, well, sexting.

Heat stains my cheeks as I think about some of the racier ones.

I check on my phone, which is sitting by my plate. Better not let this out of my sight.

“I’m happy for you, Sweet Pea. Bennett is a good man. He loves you and the feeling is obviously reciprocated.”

“Totally. ”

“I can tell by the way you blush whenever you think about him. And that ring! Bring it over here so I can gawk at it again.”

Rising, I take the few steps to her chair and kneel next to her, my left hand outstretched. “The man sure has mighty fine taste.”

“He had help. He told me when he was in New Orleans, he and his manager, Luke, scoured the city for the right jewelry store. When they found this one, they knew it was perfect for me.”

“He has some good friends.”

I sigh, “He does. I think he’s starting to realize it, too.”

She twists my left hand from side to side. “This is so big; you better be careful. You don’t want to poke someone’s eye out with it.”

“I will be careful, I promise.”

She squeezes my hand, and I try not to notice how light her touch is compared with a year ago. Or even last month. “I know you will.” She yawns. “I’m a bit tired. I think I’ll take a nap. Would you help me into my bedroom?”

“Of course.” I pop up and move the tray, then allow her to use my body as her makeshift cane. We get into her bedroom. “I only need to rest for a little bit. Don’t eat all the pizza.”

I kiss her cheek. “I’ll leave you a slice, Ma.”

Once her door is closed and the living room is righted, I clean up the kitchen and check the time.

Only a couple more hours. Kara said she’d stop by soon so I can surprise Bennett at the airstrip.

My two realities hit hard. On one hand, I’m my mother’s caretaker.

On the other, I’m Bennett’s fiancée. I’ve learned to put these two things into separate buckets and not dwell too much on one when I’m living in the other. It’s not easy, but it’s my reality.

I’m checking my phone to see if Bennett’s sent me another text when Kara breezes into the house. “How many flowers is this man going to send you?” I’d take offense but for the smile across her face. “Lucky duck.”

“Feel free to take a vase or two to your place. I’m sure Ma won’t miss them.”

“She probably can’t keep track of all of them. ”

My shoulders lower. “You’re not wrong. She’s seeming weaker to me. I just helped her get into bed for a nap after we had pizza.”

“From where?”

I smirk. “Chicago.”

Her mouth falls open. “Bennett?”

“Don’t you know it.” I take a step toward the kitchen. “Want me to heat you up a slice? It’s deep dish and delicious.”

“When you put it that way, how can I say no?” She follows me into the kitchen, and we sit at the counter while it heats. “Other than the sleeping, how is she doing?”

I give her Ma’s medical updates, which we discuss while my sister devours her slice. “How long is she napping?”

“It’s been getting longer every day. My guess is she’s out about an hour or more in the afternoons.”

“This is for the best, you know.”

Kara pushes her empty plate to the side. Even as kids, when she was finished eating, she’d always move her plate away from her. Ma does it too. I don’t remark on her habit, keeping this tidbit inside. Instead, I ask, “What is?”

“Ma making her own decisions about her end-of-life care. She’s at home, relatively happy and comfortable.” She glances around. “Surrounded by flowers and eating Chicago pizza.”

“Two very good things.” I fiddle with my ponytail. “In my head, I understand what you’re saying. My heart wants her to stay longer, though.”

“I hear you.” Kara pushes away from the table and brings her dishes to the sink. “Sucks big time. But the best gift we can give her is dignity. Let her choose her own path.” She rinses off the dish and I place it into the dishwasher.

Her words make me stand straighter. “Is this from you or your husband?”

“He started it. I’ve embraced the sentiment and now we’re trying to explain to our kids why grammy can’t come visit anymore. ”

“Your munchkins are the best. I know they make Ma happy when they call or you bring them over.”

“Thanks, kiddo.”

Kara called me kiddo when we were young.

She hasn’t used this nickname for me in decades.

She has to be feeling Ma’s health issues as deeply as I am, only she has a family to attend to and help her process.

Bennett’s been awesome, but given our distance and his relationship with his own mother, he hasn’t been as available as I would’ve liked.

Hell, with me twenty-four seven might not be enough.

“Before I forget, do you have Ma’s medication list for me?”

“Yes, I have it in my bedroom. Come on.” Kara’s been able to purchase Ma’s meds at a discount, but always double-checks the doctor’s notes against the prescription.

Together, we go into what is now my messy bedroom, with my open suitcase on one bench and clothes scattered on top of all flat surfaces. Kara frowns. “I don’t remember you being this disorganized.”

I pick up a couple of items and half-heartedly toss them into the suitcase. “I don’t make it back to my house too often, grabbing whatever I can before coming back here. Getting this room under control isn’t a priority for me right now.”

She places her hand on my shoulder. “I’m here for you.”