Page 81 of With a Cherry On Top

“Charlotte?” I say, shaking her shoulder. She shifts slightly, her hand tightening around Sadie’s like she’s holding on. “Charlotte,” I try again.

She opens her eyes with a little gasp, then blinks quickly as she looks left and right. Once her gaze settles on me, she squints. “Aaron?” She turns to Sadie. “Oh. We must have fallen asleep during our movie marathon.”

“Looks like it.” I nod toward the door. “Is your mom back? Should I drive you home?”

“She’s back.” She straightens, her fingers brushing over the hem of the robe. “I...I told her I was sleeping at Bonnie’s.”

Oh.

She lied to stay over at my place, so that line I’ve been trying not to cross? It’s behind us now. A wave of unease washes over me, and I don’t know if it’s because of the implications or because, deep down, I don’t want her to leave.

She swallows, clearly catching on to the tension, then looks down at Sadie’s head on her arm, like none of it matters as long as she’s happy. As long as my daughter had a good night.

“Thank you for this,” I say softly.

Her voice is just as quiet. “How’s your mom?”

“She’s, uh...” I give Sadie a cuddle. “My stepdad’s home now, so she’s being taken care of.”

“Oh, good.” She carefully untangles her arm from Sadie, and a tiny, unconscious protest escapes her lips as Charlotte slips free.

I roll the stiffness from my shoulders, the exhaustion of the night settling into my bones. The hospital was a shitshow—overcrowded, understaffed, so chaotic that it drained me even though I wasn’t the one in the hospital bed. And the same thought keeps haunting my mind like a wicked lullaby.

Mom has Parkinson’s disease. Mom has Parkinson’s disease. Mom has Parkinson’s disease.

It doesn’t feel real.

“You okay, Chef?”

“Huh? I’m...” I burrow my face into the palm of my hand, then look at her through the gaps in between my fingers. “Thank you for this, seriously. I had no idea it’d take this long.”

Charlotte glances down at me. “That’s okay. We had a very successful self-care day.” She scratches the back of Mollie’s ears. “And I met your cat. You didn’t tell me you had one—she’s so sweet.”

Sweet? Mollie? Did we switch cats while I was out?

The demon beast opens one eye, watching me with cold indifference.

“Yeah, she’s the best.”

“Sadie mentioned . . . she said you had other plans today.”

Oh. Of course, she must have told her about Josie. “Yeah. Not a great day for her. Not until she called you, at least.”

“Not a great day for you either from the sound of it.”

I shake my head, looking in the distance until her fingers lace with mine.

I shouldn’t say anything—this is my mom’s secret to tell, and Logan shouldn’t find out after Charlotte, someone who’s almost a stranger. But I also can’t keep it inside for one more second, so I say, “My mom...she’s been diagnosed with Parkinson’s.”

Her jaw drops, then silence, her parted lips pressing together as whatever she was going to say dissolves into nothing.

“I’m . . . I’m so sorry, Aaron.” Her thumb rubs the back of my hand. “Was it . . . tonight?”

“A year ago, apparently.” The words push against my ribs like they’re too big for my chest. “But I only found out tonight. That’s why she fell,” I explain. “Because her muscles aren’t responding the way they should anymore. Because her balance is shot, and she’s weaker than she lets on. And from now on, it’ll only get worse. At some point, she won’t be able to walk. She’ll struggle to eat. She’ll...”

My voice breaks, and she squeezes just enough to remind me I’m not alone.

“I got so mad at her.”

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