Chapter Fourteen
Lucy
“We’ll keep her here for another hour or two,” Dr. Westfield was saying. “Give the medicine a chance to fight back. She needs to be kept quiet for the next few days, though.”
Lucy focused on the picture on his desk. A pretty, petite girl in a Texas A&M sweatshirt stood smiling in front of some college building.
“My daughter,” he said. “She’ll start her sophomore year at A&M in the fall.”
The obvious pride in his voice made Lucy’s heart ache. Her dad had sounded that way when she won a design contest or made A’s. When she made A’s. But still…that “dad warmth” tone was a sound she missed so much. “That’s exciting.”
“It is. But, back to what I was saying… Lucy, it’s very important that your mother takes it easy. Stress seems to be a big trigger for her worst episodes.”
His forehead was wrinkled. No doubt he was looking at Lucy and wondering how a girl younger than his daughter would manage all that. She wondered the same thing. Her to-do list was longer than I-35 at this point. “Okay. I’ll watch the shop for her and make her stay off her feet.”
“Good.” He paused. “I know it’s hard, having your father gone. You’re doing a remarkable job juggling everything. I just wanted you to know that.”
The tips of Lucy’s ears burned. She didn’t feel like she was doing a remarkable job. Her brother was stranded after camp and not answering her texts, the shop was idling closed on a busy Wednesday, and she was having a hard time standing up straight under the pressure. “Thanks.”
“If you need anything, we’re here.” He stood. “If you’re hungry, the nurses always have snacks hidden in their desks.”
She nodded and slipped out of his office. Mom would be okay, but he was right. How often had Lucy seen Mom rubbing her forehead this summer? Lots. She’d just have to do better at helping out. Maybe take on fewer new projects or spend less time at Serena’s with the chickens.
And she definitely didn’t have time for boys. Which shouldn’t be hard, since Dylan had been a complete ass that morning. She could brush him off and focus on her family. Like Dad would want.
So why was she so disappointed?
Before she went back to Mom’s room, she tried Otis again, this time resorting to a phone call.
“Hello?” an older, deeper male voice answered.
Panic spiked through Lucy, sending a flush up her chest. Low and angry, she asked, “Who is this?”
“Whoa, there, tiger.” The guy laughed. “Otis, there’s a crazy lady on the phone for you.”
“Hi, Lucy!” Otis’s voice was bright and excited. “How’s Mom?”
Lucy’s jaw worked. He had no idea how worried she’d been. And he’d assumed the “crazy lady” on the phone was his sister. He wasn’t wrong, but that kid… “She’ll be fine, but where are you? And why is some…some man answering your phone?”
“Man?” Otis cracked up. “It’s Coach Dylan. He took me to lunch, and now we’re at the batting cages and it’s awesome! This girl, Alyssa, totally knows about bats, and I’m going to need a new one. We had onion rings for lunch, and Dylan even let me have a shake. I got chocolate, because it’s good, and I ate —”
“Slow down, Otis. Let me get a word in, huh?” Lucy’s shoulders dropped from around her ears. Dylan was taking care of her brother. That was a surprise. Or was it? He wasn’t the type to leave a camper hanging, but the idea of him entertaining a nine-year-old kind of bent her perception of him a little. “Put Dylan on, okay?”
“Hey.” Dylan sounded a little out of breath, and there was a smile in his voice, like the whole thing had him amused. “I should’ve had him check his phone sooner. Sorry he missed all your texts.”
“Sounds like he was having too much fun to remember.” Lucy leaned against the wall. “Um, thanks…for taking care of Otis. This is probably his dream come true.”
“We’re having a good time. Take care of your mom, and I’ll keep him busy until then.”
“It should only be a few more hours.” She paused, biting her lip, wondering what she was about to get herself into, but somehow unable to stop. “I don’t know how to thank you for this. Really.”
There was an even longer pause on his end. “You don’t have to do that. And…I’m sorry about this morning. I had a bad start, too. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
Lucy leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “That’s okay. I get it. But I’d still like to do something. I know how to make cakes. You have a favorite flavor?”
“Uh…” Dylan covered the phone and called something to Otis before coming back. “I, um, appreciate it, but I don’t need anything. I was glad to help. Can we leave it at that?”
Lucy felt like she’d been slapped in the face with cold lake water. “Okay, seriously. Is it me? Because it’s just a cake. I’m not offering to have your first born.”
“Who are you talking to?” Mom asked, through the partially open door. “And that better be a joke, because I’m way too young to be a grandma.”
Lucy waved her off, wanting to stay angry. That, at least, she understood. Dylan still hadn’t answered, pissing her off more. “Yeah, it’s me. My bad for not taking the hint.”
“No…it’s not that. I don’t want to put you to any trouble.” Dylan sounded uncomfortable. “We both have a lot going on. You need to focus on your mom and shouldn’t waste time on me.”
Lucy deflated. What was he saying? That seeing her was a waste of his time? Or that he didn’t feel like he was worth her time? She wasn’t sure which was worse. “Fine, okay, I get it. Tell Otis I’ll call when we’re on our way home, so you can meet us.”
“Sure.” Was it just her, or did Dylan sound frustrated? Was Otis giving him a hard time? Or was having to deal with her really that bad?
Well, whatever it was, she needed to take his advice and focus on Mom. “And tell Otis to be good.”
She hung up without waiting to hear his response and rubbed a hand over her tired eyes. She shouldn’t let Dylan get under her skin. He wasn’t her type, not even remotely, so why did his brush off bug her so much?
Maybe because she had the feeling he was interested, but something was holding him back. Had he decided she was too weird?
He wouldn’t be the first guy who did.
Lucy heaved a sigh and went to her mother’s bedside. “Hey. How’s the head?”
“Much better. My eyelid isn’t twitching anymore, either.” Mom gave her a tired smile. “I’m so lucky to have a quick-thinking girl like you.”
Lucy smoothed her mom’s hair back off her forehead, feeling a little of the burden shift off her shoulders. “I try.”
“You do. Your dad will be very proud of you when he hears you took care of things…of me.” Mom reached for Lucy’s hand and kissed it. “Thank you.”
Tears stung the back of Lucy’s eyes. “You’re welcome.”
“How about Otis?” Mom frowned. “Who’s taking care of him? Serena?”
“Serena’s off with her dad looking at a new flock of pullets.” Lucy chuckled softly. What seventeen-year-old girl knew what a pullet was…in this century at least? “Otis is with his coach. He’s a nice guy. Apparently, he stuffed Otis full of hamburgers and ice cream, then took him to the batting cages. I told him we’d text on our way back.”
“Coach Dylan?” Mom quirked a little smile, then winced a bit. “The one Otis was throwing a fit over earlier?”
“One and the same.” Lucy went back to the visitor’s chair and flopped into it. “Otis doesn’t have to worry. Dylan isn’t interested in me.”
“Wait…was he the one you offered to bake a cake for? Are you interested in him?” Mom’s eyes lit up. “Come on, you can tell me.”
Lucy shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. He’s kind of…structured.”
“Ah.” Mom laughed, then winced again. “Okay, no laughing. Anyway, you might be outside his comfort zone, is that it?”
“I guess.” That was a pretty good way of putting it, actually. “And he’s too comfortable for me, if that makes sense.”
“A little solidity in your life wouldn’t kill you, you know.” Mom waved a hand at Lucy’s sharp look. “I know, not my business. I want both my kids to be happy. That’s all.”
Lucy picked at her fingernails. “I know. I don’t really have time for any drama, though. Boys are way down on the priority list at the moment, including overly structured pitchers.”
Mom’s smile was a little sad, but she didn’t press. “So…what’s going on with the chickens these days?”
Lucy was relieved at the obvious subject change. “Serena’s dad went to the town council meeting to protest the ordinance. They vote next week, so he’ll have one more try to persuade them. But…oh, Mom…if they pass it, Serena’s farm has to move outside town lines, and they can’t afford it. They might have to sell the chickens to a less ethical farm.”
“I’m sure the council will see reason. They don’t have any close neighbors. Even if it’s to keep people like us, who live in subdivisions, from having livestock, surely they’ll give Serena’s family an exception. Don’t you think?”
“I doubt it.”
They sat in semi-glum silence until the nurse came back to release her mother. Mom could walk on her own but was unsteady, so Lucy took her straight home, rather than to the shop like her mother wanted.
Lucy forced a confident smile. “Don’t worry— I’ve got it under control. I’ll reopen in the morning. I can drop Otis off early, teach your class, leave the quilt ladies in charge while I pick up Otis, and it’ll all be fine.” And fit in all my other projects around the edges.
Mom’s face still creased with worry, like she’d read Lucy’s mind. “I’ll be okay to teach tomorrow. You have that wedding dress to finish.”
“I’ll stay up late and work on it.” Lucy made her voice firm, hiding how tired she was and how much she chafed at being so contained. Her mother’s health had to come first. If she worked too much too soon, the next episode might land her in the ER or in the hospital overnight. “Mom, Dr. Westfield said to rest. Come back Friday.” She flashed a wheedling smile. “And let me have all day off on Saturday. Otis doesn’t have camp, and I need a day of doing whatever.”
“Deal.”
Lucy texted Otis, then Dylan, to let them know they were coming home. And hopefully start a do-over on this day.