Page 2

CHAPTER 2

Tempe

I push the front door open, the familiar creak more comforting than annoying tonight. It’s been a long day at the store, longer than usual, and all I want is to check on Mom and maybe collapse on the couch for a few minutes before dealing with dinner.

“I’m home,” I call out, dropping my keys in the small bowl on the hall table and kicking off my shoes. There’s no response, but that’s not unusual these days. Ever since the accident, Mom’s been quieter, more reflective.

I find her in her room—a small addition made to the house back in the days when I had a father—propped up with a mountain of pillows, a knitted blanket pulled up to her waist and a book resting unopened on her lap. Her eyes, though tired, light up when she sees me. “Tempe, darling, how was work?”

I don’t answer her right away, instead giving her a critical once-over, as is my usual habit. Her fragile frame seems swamped in the queen-size bed. The cast on her leg and the braces around her wrists are stark reminders of the accident—a rainy night collision at an intersection, where a distracted driver ran a red light and crashed into her side. Her hospitalization was lengthy and fraught with multiple surgeries—to realign her leg, stabilize her vertebrae, and repair the wrists shattered against the steering wheel.

Now back home, her recovery has been slow, each day a small step toward regaining the independence she values so deeply. The house feels different with her spending so much time in bed rather than flitting about with boundless energy. Now she lives within a constant, quiet battle to heal, watched over by me and my little brother.

The pleasant smile on her face convinces me she’s not in a lot of pain and I move her wheelchair so I can come to the side of the bed.

“Eventful,” I reply, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. Her skin is warm, and I linger a second longer, just to assure myself she’s okay. “How are you feeling? Did Judith come by today?”

My mom nods, shifting slightly to ease her position. “Yes, she was here. Helped with… you know, the things I can’t quite manage yet.” I can hear her frustration, a reminder of her fiercely independent nature that doesn’t take well to being sidelined. “I hate not being able to do for myself.”

Judith is a CNA from a home health service who comes three times a week to help Mom with bathing and hygiene needs when I’m not here. Mom was discharged from the rehab hospital four days ago, so we’re still trying to figure things out. We only have Judith’s services for another two weeks and after that, I’m not sure what we’ll do.

I stroke her forearm gently, just above her brace. “You’re getting stronger every day. I can see it and I know you can feel it. And hey, Cooper managed to not burn the house down today, so I’d call that a major win.”

Her laugh is light and brings a smile to my face. “He cooked up his famous mac and cheese for dinner. There’s some for you in the fridge.”

“Straight from the box.” I grimace, but I’m grateful my thirteen-year-old brother is helping as best he can as we try to take care of Mom while she heals. “I’m going to check on him. Be right back.”

Our home is a compact, two-story American Foursquare style that has an additional two bedrooms with a shared bathroom up a steep set of stairs. It’s not changed much, other than the man who got my mom pregnant divorcing her and leaving when Cooper was three and I was eleven, and never coming back. My bedroom had been turned into a small craft room when I went off to college at William and Mary, but now I’ve moved back in to care for my mom and am making do with the small futon in there.

I head up the stairs to Cooper’s room where I find him sprawled across his bed, textbooks and papers around him, a pencil stuck behind one ear. “Need any help with that homework?”

He shakes his head, a grin spreading across his face. “Nah, I’ve got it. But thanks, Tempe. I made dinner and left you some.”

This will be the third day in a row I’ve eaten boxed mac and cheese for dinner, but he gets my most brilliant smile. “You are awesome. Thank you so much for taking on that duty. I couldn’t do this without you.”

Coop’s eyes, green like mine, sparkle from the praise. “Got your back, sis.”

“I know you do. I’m going to hang with Mom for a bit, but want to play some backgammon later?”

“Sure,” he says, indulging me in something I like to do and am quite good at, although he’s getting better.

“All right, shout if you need me.” I ruffle his hair before I leave, the normalcy of the moment a stark contrast to the rest of our lives lately.

Back downstairs in Mom’s bedroom, I say, “Let’s get you on the couch for a bit.”

“Oh, honey… I’m tired,” she says, waving me off.

“Have you spent any time out of the bed today?” I ask, leveling her with a pointed look.

“Of course, I did. When Judith was here.”

“How long?” I press.

She flushes guiltily. “About twenty minutes.”

“Not good enough,” I say, going into mean nurse mode. “The doctors said you’ve got to move around and besides, it’s not good for you to stay in bed all the time.”

My mother sighs, not in an overly dramatic way, but in a way that tells me she’s indeed tired. And I honestly get it, she’s been through hell. I know she’s miserable in that huge cast on her leg and being unable to use her hands effectively, and I know she hurts from head to toe. Her most pressing complaint is neck pain as she had to have surgery to put plates on a fractured vertebra.

But I don’t relent. I can’t. She could easily slip into apathy and encouragement is my middle name.

“Come on… let’s get you up.”

I efficiently pull back the covers, maneuver her wheelchair beside the bed and then help her into it with her arms around my shoulders since she can’t put pressure on her wrists. Otherwise, she’d be using crutches or a walker by this time. It’s crazy how the smallest injuries to her wrists are the things causing us the most problems right now.

I wheel her carefully through the bedroom door, which has maybe a half an inch clearance on either side. We made the living room a little more expansive by moving the love seat into Cooper’s room. I don’t offer Mom the comfy recliner but instead set the brakes so she can sit upright in the wheelchair for a while.

I plop down on the couch, curling my feet under me. While I long to get out of this putrid mustard-colored shirt and stand under a hot shower, followed by filling my empty stomach, I’m far too excited to tell my mom about my day.

“So, something crazy happened at work,” I start, and her interest is piqued immediately.

She leans forward in the chair. “Do tell.”

I dive into the story of the insanely gorgeous man who kissed me in the international foods section, my hands gesturing wildly as I recount the absurdity of the moment. “I mean… I could tell right away that he wasn’t trying to assault me or anything. I could sort of feel this panicky desperation in the kiss, and then he whispered to me, ‘Please… just go with it. I need to be saved from a crazy woman.’”

“What!?” my mom exclaims. “A crazy woman.”

I shrug. “No clue what that meant at the time, but well… I went with it.”

“Shut up.” My mom gasps.

“It was a good kiss too. You know, the type you see in a romance movie when the two starstruck lovers haven’t seen each other in a long time.”

Loving my mom’s giggle of appreciation, a sound I don’t hear often, I continue. “At any rate, when we broke apart, this woman was standing there, staring daggers at him.”

“Former girlfriend?”

“Apparently sort of a stalker, I guess. So I pretended to be his girlfriend, and the woman eventually left. All’s well that ends well.”

I tuck my hands behind my head, straightening my legs and kicking my feet up on the coffee table.

My mom stares at me, mouth agape, and then finally demands, “And that’s it? This gorgeous man kisses you and… that’s it?”

I shrug again. “I had to work the register and then clean up a pallet of milk that spilled, so I didn’t see him again.”

Sighing dramatically, my mom has an almost dreamy smile on her face. She’s forever the romantic and reads romance novels like they’re on the verge of being outlawed. “That could’ve been the best meet cute for a long-lasting and loving relationship.”

I snort at the thought of something so ridiculous, but part of me is sad that I didn’t see the man again. He was so good-looking, completely my type. First, very tall… at least six five or six six and had a broad chest. I could tell by the fit of his jacket that he was built underneath.

But I’m really a face girl and that’s what sold me. High cheekbones, full lips, straight nose and beautiful blue eyes that stood out under slashing dark brows. He has a scar above his eyebrow and a smaller one on his chin, but that only heightens his appeal. His hair was a bit shorter than I prefer, cut short on the sides and slightly longer on top, but no one’s perfect, I guess.

“You deserve to have someone.” I look over at my mom, her tone pulling me out of my daydreams about the gorgeous man and that hot-as-hell kiss. She’s sad and tears sparkle in her eyes. “Oh, Temperance. I can’t stand it that you had to drop out of school for this… for me. It’s supposed to be my job to take care of you, and here you are… and Cooper too… it’s not right that kids have to take care of their parents.”

I lurch up off the couch and go to my knees at the side of her wheelchair. I reach for her arm, as I can’t squeeze her hand for reassurance like I want to. “Mom, it’s okay. School is just on hold. I’ll go back and finish. It’s only a pause, not an end. And there’s nothing that pleases me more than to help you because you worked your ass off to take care of me and Cooper after the sperm donor left us.”

I refuse to call him my dad because that gives him too much credit.

She nods, but I can tell the worry is still there, nestled deep in her heart. “I know, honey. I just wish things were different.”

“We’ll get through this,” I assure her, the confidence I convey more for her benefit than my own belief. I kiss her forehead. “I’m going to make you some tea and grab me a bowl of delicious mac and cheese. Want to watch an episode of Yellowstone with me before I whip Cooper’s butt in backgammon?”

“Sure,” she says, patting my face before I pull away. “Sounds like a lovely evening.”

In the kitchen, I spoon the orange gooeyness onto a plate and nuke it, my thoughts drifting back to Rafferty. His kiss, though unexpected, sparked something, a brief flare of excitement in my otherwise overwhelmed life. But the reality of my situation settles around me like a heavy cloak. Work, caring for Mom, caring for Cooper—I’ve got too much on my plate to think about anything else, especially not some random guy from the store, no matter how good his kiss felt.

Besides… there’s something far more important than a sizzling kiss.

Money.

Money is what I think of morning, noon and night.

Or rather, the lack thereof.

Mom’s injuries have generated staggering co-pays for the hospital and rehab expenses. It’s always been tight, my mom sometimes working two jobs to support me and Coop as we grew up. While I have several scholarships, college has put a strain on us all. I’ve worked at the grocery store for years, starting in summers during high school and on college breaks to help contribute, and I’m lucky they let me come on full time while I’m home taking care of Mom. Right now, though, I’m the only source of income. I banish thoughts of the hot guy who took my mind off my troubles for just a few moments and try to figure out how I’m going to make next month’s mortgage payment.