13
“I can’t believe she actually talked you into magnet fishing. I used to take her when she was a little girl because her mother was afraid she’d get hurt using a hook. But she enjoyed herself so much I could never talk her into real fishing after that.” Her father laughed and said, “Which was good too, because she is squeamish. I can’t picture her ever taking a fish off the hook.”
She shook her head. “Never happening. But I wasn’t about to put bait on the line either.”
“This is all valuable information to have,” Charles said.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because when we are back in Boston, I will know what not to plan.”
She laughed. “I can’t see us doing a lot of fishing in the city.”
Her mother had been in the other room and let out a scream. Her father knocked over his chair, rushing to see what had happened. When she arrived in the living room, he was kneeling by the wheelchair. Her mother was uttering over and over, “Max. Max. Max.”
Rosslyn looked at the television and the news was on, but they were talking about the weather. She walked over and shut it off. Her father was trying to calm her, but she continued saying it. Rosslyn knew it was getting late and her mother’s mind was slipping. It was best they leave before Charles saw just how bad it could get.
“Dad, we’re going to head out so you can get Mom to bed.”
“Why don’t you help him, and I’ll do the dishes while I wait,” Charles offered.
She turned and expected to see he was joking, but he wasn’t. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “It’s not like I don’t do them at home.”
Rosslyn wanted to tell him a coffee cup wasn’t really considered doing dishes. “Thank you.” She kissed him on the cheek and then followed her father into the back of the house.
Her mother’s bedroom was on the main floor so there was easy access to everything she needed. Her father slept on the couch. It wasn’t the life either of them had expected, but life rarely was.
Her mother was extra agitated tonight, and no matter what they said, she wouldn’t stop saying Max. It was hard because there was no rhyme or reason to what triggered her episode. “Dad, I don’t mind staying the night and giving you a break. That’s what I’m here for, you know.”
“No. You go with Charles. It’s my . . . honor to be here for her.”
Rosslyn’s eyes wheeled up. “Oh Dad. She always said you were her prince.”
He laughed. “Nope. I’m still a frog, she just had to keep kissing me until I looked like a prince.”
She knew her father wasn’t going to leave her mother’s side until she was fast asleep. No Dad. It’s the princes of this world who need to be more like you. “We’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll bring some of Brandy’s homemade scones.”
“Sweet pea, I want you to take tomorrow off. You worked all week; just enjoy yourself.”
“But Dad I’m—”
“This isn’t up for discussion. I like him. He seems to be a good man, and if I’m right, you’re fond of him as well.”
“I am.” She was falling for him faster than she wanted, but it was out of her control.
“Then tomorrow make it all about the two of you. No work. No worrying about us. Just enjoy the time you have together.”
“Okay Dad.” She could promise him anything, but she’d always worry about them. That’s what you do when you love someone. Leaving the room she headed back to the kitchen. She thought for sure she’d see the dishes still piled high. Instead they were washed and stacked neatly, waiting to be put away.
“Is everything all set with your mother?” he asked.
“For now. Dad’s going to stay with her. I can’t believe you did all this. I’m impressed.”
Charles laughed. “I hope this isn’t the only thing that’s impressed you so far.”
Teasingly she said, “You did score a large piece of a car bumper today in the lake. That was impressive too.”