Page 25 of Long Hard Fall

Patty glanced down the hall and her eyes brightened with delight that her son was there, then concern that her son was in the hospital.

Abbi tightened her grip around Cash’s hand. He needed it now more than ever.

His mom met them at the elevators. “What are you doing here?”

“Frankie’s having some health issues and they’re checking her out.” His grip was solid iron. Her fingers might be turning white.

Patty drew herself to her full height; her face became a mask. “Oh? And she’s doing okay?” Her voice could’ve rivaled a robot’s.

“Seems to be. We’ll know after some results come back.”

Another we. Abbi didn’t know the dynamics between Cash and his mother, but she suspected it was incredibly significant that he was here.

Patty eyed them both. “I…I didn’t realize you two knew…”

Abbi wanted to loosen the collar of her sweater at the tension rippling between mother and son.

“I meet with her every Monday. Have been for a couple years, Mom. And we wrote back and forth when I was in the army.”

Patty’s brows had risen higher with each sentence. “I see.”

Abbi resisted shrinking into Cash when Patty’s gaze pinned her.

“I’m sorry, Abbi, we didn’t get to officially meet. Patty Walker.” She stuck her hand out.

Abbi had to release Cash’s hand to shake and when she did, he crossed his arms, his wary gaze still on his mom.

So awkward.

“What else do you two have planned today?” Patty’s tone gave Abbi flashbacks to getting grilled by her parents when she went on dates, or out with friends—who were usually covers for going on dates.

“Abbi’s never ridden a horse. I have to check on Frankie’s place and then we’ll go saddle up.”

“Take it easy.” A hidden warning was in Patty’s words.

Cash gave his mom a quick kiss. He grabbed Abbi’s hand again and pulled her toward the stairwell.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered as they trotted down the stairs.

“Why? That wasn’t weird at all.”

Cash chuckled and shook his head. “So it was my imagination. I can drop you off at the diner and run to check the cats, if you want to meet in an hour.”

“Not a chance.” She whispered, “I have a major pussy fetish.”

Cash sputtered a cough while she giggled. Juvenile cat jokes to diffuse any lingering unease—worked like a charm.

“What a coincidence,” he replied, “so do I.”

Chapter 8

Frankie’s apartment was in an unadorned, white four-plex that had no detached garage, just a large flat of cement for a parking lot. Ceramic planters with withered greens bordered each side of the door. Cash let Abbi into the entryway, where they could find the door to Frankie’s unit.

A cloud of stale cigarette smoke hung in the wide hallway. Cash half expected to be hit with the odor of cat urine, but the closer they got to Frankie’s door, the more floral the air became.

It bothered him that he didn’t know what to expect. She was his grandma and yes, he’d only known for the last ten years and he’d been gone for eight of them, but…she was his grandma.

Was he her only grandchild? Holly was her only child and Frankie had been a single mom. Had Holly tossed more children to their daddies and gone on her way?

---