“Shit. Let me help you.” I grab my cloth napkin and mop up the spilled tea, swiping away droplets from her pale skin.
“How embarrassing.” She sighs.
My heart aches at the resigned look on her face. I sense a wave of panic building in my chest, the burn making my lungs hurt with each breath. Xan, please feel free to kick in any time now.
I exude a calmness that doesn’t match my accelerated heart rate. “What did the doctor say yesterday?”
She sends me the smallest smile. “You don’t need to fuss over me.”
“Mum…”
She gives me the sassiest eye roll, replacing her distress. “Okay, fine. He said we can monitor the recent issues I’ve had with my mood and movement. But overall, I’m doing pretty well. They have high hopes.”
“Is that good news then? Maybe it’s not as bad as they think.”
Her trembling hand cups my cheek. “Well, they say I can potentially live a few years longer than expected.”
“So, you’re talking another fifteen years with us, give or take?” I resent how uncertain my voice sounds.
“It’s not a sure thing. I wish I could give you more information, but that’s all I have.” Her smile wobbles.
I push my plate aside, no longer in the mood for food. “And what did he say could fix the tremors?”
“The only thing we can do is monitor how bad they get. Oh, and he said to help with stress, my son should stop being stubborn and get—”
“Nope.”
“But—”
“The answer is no.” I sigh. “I’m sorry. I hate to disappoint you, truly, but there’s no point.” My hands shake beneath the table.
“I can’t help trying. Whenever I go to the doctor, I worry about you. I think of how anxious you get and the pills you started taking last year. Benzos aren’t even good for you, so don’t try to downplay it. I wonder if the shaking is because of—”
“Mum, please stop worrying about me.” My voice comes out in a whisper. Shit, I hate how she can get to me like no other, but I need to stay firm. “Can we please drop this conversation? Let’s enjoy the last week before I have to go. I don’t know how soon I can make it back with Liam gone and everything changing at McCoy.” My voice reeks of desperation, rasping and cracking as I look at her with wide eyes.
“I will, for now, but only because I fall for your puppy eyes every time. That’s how you ended up with four cavities by five years old.”
“I’ve always been a charmer.” I shoot her my most dazzling smile, hoping to ward off all her worries about the topic.
“Trust me, I’m quite aware of your Daily Mail headlines. You’ve tempted me to bleach my eyes one too many times.”
I cringe. “Sorry, Mum.”
“I look forward to the day you meet the right kind of woman and put those club days to rest.”
I laugh. “Meeting and committing are two very different things.”
“With that smart mouth, who could resist you?”
Jackie grabs my unfinished plate. “Any woman who thinks with her brain rather than her clit.”
Mum stifles her laugh. “Jackie, you’re awful.”
“I say it like I see it.” Jackie shrugs before heading toward the sink.
“Now after ruining my appetite, the least you can do is make your mum happy. You know what I love more than anything.”
“Dad?”