“Hey, old boy,” he said to Oliver, walking over to him so he could give him a scratch on the head.
Oliver woofed at him in response, his tail starting to wag, hitting the bare wood floor with a loud, rhythmic slap.
“He misses you,” his mom called over her shoulder as she made her way to the kitchen. “He misses all of you.”
“Oliver? No way. He’s an old man who loves that all of the kids are gone,” Lane argued. “Now he gets all the attention from you and Dad.”
As he entered the kitchen, his mother shook her head, sighing loudly. “I was talking about your father, not the dog.”
Oh. Yeah, sure his dad missed them all. “He can pick up the phone too, you know,” Lane answered stiffly while Wren said nothing at all. This was an age-old argument that was pointless to discuss. “Where is he anyway? Is he here?” He went tense at the thought of facing his father. Of having to deal with him. They avoided each other as much as possible. The old man preferred to be alone most of the time and everyone else was just fine with that.
“He went on a fishing trip with one of his friends.” Mom waved a hand vaguely as she went to the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of iced tea.
A friend? Their dad had no real friends. Well, he had a few. Guys who’d retired from Cal Fire right around the same time he had. Men who liked to grumble about the old times and drink beer as they sat in their fishing boats out on the lake, soaking up the early morning sun.
His dad was also incredibly selfish. He’d never been around when they were little kids, too busy with work, with his other girlfriends, with his shitty so-called friends who liked to drink and party.
All while their mom had sat at home, diligent and loyal, raising four kids essentially on her own. Talk about a shit life. He didn’t know how his mother had done it, and always with a smile on her face too. He’d watched over her, helped her out when he could, and had even stuck around at home for a while after he’d graduated high school, saving up money to go to the police academ
y. Finally, one day, he’d gotten lucky and the Wildwood County Sheriff’s Department offered to pay his way through the academy if he signed a contract to work for them for five years.
That had been well over five years ago, but he wasn’t going anywhere. Wildwood was his home. And seeing his mother bustling around her kitchen reminded him of that. Home. How he hadn’t been to see her in forever. How he wished they had a better relationship. How they could have a better relationship if he would just make the time to see her more often.
Lane and Wren settled in at the small kitchen table while their mother fixed them glasses of iced tea, leaving it plain for Wren and dumping in a bunch of sugar for Lane, just how they each liked it. No surprise that she still remembered. She was thoughtful and had taken good care of her children. And look how they treated her now.
Don’t feel too guilty. When their relationship started to fall apart and everyone tried to convince her to leave him, she wouldn’t do it. She chose her husband over all of you.
It was hard to remember that as he watched her. She looked so frail, so . . . alone. He didn’t like that.
“Thanks, Mom,” he said when she set the glass in front of him.
“Sit with us,” Wren practically demanded as she wrapped her hands around her glass.
“I should fix something for dinner. I hadn’t planned on much other than a sandwich, but say you’ll both stay. Please? I’m sure I could drum something up.” She looked so hopeful Lane didn’t have the heart to tell her no.
He glanced at Wren, and she nodded her answer.
“We’ll stay,” he said, pointing at the chair that was next to him. “But you need to sit and visit with us first. Let’s catch up.”
“Give me a minute. Let me put this away.” She spun around, grabbing the pitcher from the counter and buzzing over to the fridge. Opening the door, she bent forward, sliding the pitcher inside before she stood quickly, slamming the refrigerator door with so much force it rattled. “Oh!” she exclaimed, her voice loud and sharp.
That was the last thing she said before she crumpled to the floor.
Chapter Ten
“SLOW DOWN, WREN. I can’t understand what you’re saying.” Delilah paused, letting her friend babble on for a minute before she interrupted her again. “Your mom? Is she okay?” Her heart felt like it had crawled up into her throat as she listened. “What happened?” Delilah clutched her phone close to her ear, listening as Wren took a deep, sobbing breath. “You’re scaring me,” she murmured.
“It’s M-Mom. She f-fainted,” Wren stuttered out.
Now Delilah’s heart threatened to jump out of her throat, it was thumping so hard. “Where are you? Is she okay? Did you take her to the hospital? Where’s Lane?”
Wren blew out a harsh breath. “We’re at the emergency room. We went to see her, Lane and I. She was fixing us iced tea one minute and then collapsed on the ground the next. She woke up for like, a minute, and said she’d stood up too fast but then she passed out again. Lane couldn’t rouse her so he called for an ambulance.”
“Have either of you spoke to a doctor yet? Do you know her condition?”
“No. Not yet. We’re in the waiting room now.” A baby started to cry in the background, as if on cue. “This place is a nightmare,” Wren whispered. “I guess there was an accident on the lake earlier this afternoon so the wait is extra long.”
“Shit. I’ll come see you right now.” Delilah rose from her couch and slipped on her flip-flops before she went in search of her purse and car keys. “I can be there in fifteen minutes.”