Mom grabs my hand and brings it to her lap. “What’s this girl’s name?”
“Taylor.”
“How sure are you that Taylor isn’t like the other women?”
Even through the signs of Taylor’s obsession with me, and there are plenty of them, I know deep down that her feelings for me are genuine. I’ve become quite adept at reading people over the years. In my line of work, you have to know when someone is authentic and when someone is trying to take advantage. From the first time I saw Taylor in that alley, I’ve never gotten the feeling she was fake. That’s one of the things that draws me to her.
“Very sure,” I tell Mom.
“Then I don’t see what the problem is.”
I laugh humorously. “Did you not hear me say I live in San Diego and she’s in Florida?”
“Those are just minor details that can be figured out later. Besides, who says you have to stay in San Diego? If you really like this girl, you can go where she is. Or she can come to you.” She squeezes my hand when I go to speak. “And I know your next concern is your career and all the traveling you do with it. That shouldn’t be an issue much longer since—”
“Mrs. Sharpe?”
The doctor calling Mom’s name cuts off her reply. We both jump to our feet and rush over to him. Parker is on the other side of Mom a split second later.
“How is he?” Mom asks worriedly.
The doctor smiles. “He’s doing just fine. Everything went well and as expected. The repair was fairly easy. He’s still under sedation, but he’ll be moved to recovery momentarily. Once he shows signs of coming to, a nurse will come get you to take you back.” He looks to me then to Parker then back to Mom. “Since it’s just the three of you, I’ll allow you all back.”
“Thank you,” Mom says, tears clogging her voice. “Thank you so much.”
As soon as the doctor leaves, Mom turns to me and throws her arms around my waist. I pull her tight against my chest and hold her for a minute. She lets go and does the same to Parker.
I pull out my phone to shoot Taylor a quick message to let her know Dad’s okay.
Me: Dad’s out of surgery and everything went well.
She replies a moment later.
My Stalker: Thank goodness. I’m glad everything went well.
Before I can reply, I get another message from her.
My Stalker: How are you doing?
Me: Relieved. I feel like I can finally breathe properly again.
My Stalker: I wish I was there with you.
Me: I wish you were too.
My Stalker: How’s your mom and brother?
I look at the pair, seeing Parker rubbing Mom’s back as she cries tears of relief against his chest.
Me: Better now that we’ve gotten good news.
I pocket my phone when a nurse pushes through the door. She takes us back to Dad’s room. He’s groggy, but seems to be his usual grumpy self. Mom immediately begins to fuss over him, asking him five times in a row if he needs anything.
“Cat, for the love of God, baby,” he grabs her hand when she tries tucking the blanket underneath him, “if you don’t stop, I’m going to ask the doctor to give you a sedative. I told you I’m fine.”
The sound that leaves her is part laugh, part sob. Her shoulders sag and she brings his hand to her mouth. “I’m just so relieved you’re okay. I swear I’ve lost ten years of my life over the last three days.”
“Come here.” He winces when he tries to shift over on the bed.
“Stop that,” Mom reprimands, seeing the pain on his face.
“Woman,” he growls, “you best get your ass up on this bed with me so I can hold you or there will be consequences.”
Mom shakes her head with a sigh, but I can see the longing in her eyes. Gingerly, she rests her butt on the very edge of the bed and lays down, resting her head on the pillow beside Dad’s. She gently places her hand on his lower stomach. Dad reaches out, despite the pain he must be feeling, to scoot her closer to him.
“Do me a favor, son, and lift that rail. The last thing we need is your mom falling and breaking something.” A second later, Dad grunts, “Ouch, woman, watch those claws. I’m a sick man here.”
“You best be nice to me. I’ll be your caretaker when you go home.”
Walking over, I lift the guardrail, trapping Mom in the bed with Dad.
“You know the nurses are going to have a fit when they see us like this.”
“They’ll get over it,” Dad responds.
Using the hand with the IV, he puts it on top of Mom’s still resting on his stomach. He closes his eyes, and a look of peace relaxes his features.
As I watch my parents lying peacefully in a hospital bed, envy hits me. I want what they have. I’ve never doubted the love they have for each other. It’s obvious for everyone to see.
I wonder if it’s possible to have that with Taylor.