Page 21 of Rex's Honor
“Just point me in the direction of my mother,” he said. If he didn’t do this now, he’d never do it.
“Upstairs and down the hallway. You’ll walk right into the master bedroom. I should warn you, she’s weak and doesn’t look well. She’s lost a ton of weight and is quite pale.”
“That has to drive her insane. She always loved a good tan.”
“She demands tanning lotion every day.”
“That sounds like my mother.” He left Judy standing in the sitting room as he climbed the staircase. The hallway walls were filled with more photos and familiar furniture from both his childhood home and Tilly’s.
I slept with my stepsister.
Well, she was his girlfriend before that, and it didn’t matter anyway.
He raised his trembling hand and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” his mother’s voice rang out as soft and sweet as he remembered. At nine years old, he broke his wrist snow skiing on a family vacation. It had been displaced and had to be reset. His mother talked to him through the entire process, telling him stories of her childhood and the crazy things his grandfather used to do. By the time the doctor was done, he’d barely known he’d been hurt, thanks to his loving mother.
He sucked in a deep breath and told himself this would be easier than running into a burning building.
Right.
He stepped through door, mentally preparing himself. “Hey, Ma,” he said as she came into view. She was propped up in her bed, a food tray over her legs. Her once long, thick hair had thinned and turned gray. She wasn’t as pale as he thought she’d be, but her frail body sucker punched his ability to take another step.
All the anger and resentment melted from his body.
She turned her head, raising a small sandwich. Her hand fell to the tray, sending the plate with the rest of the food onto the bed.
He raced to her side, quickly cleaning up the mess, thankful no liquid had been spilled. He set her food off to the side and sat on the edge of the bed. “Surprise?” He didn’t think his heart could ache more, but seeing his strong, sophisticated mother in such a vulnerable state drove home how much he’d missed out on during the last ten years.
She blinked a few times, shaking her head. “Now I’m delusional,” she whispered.
“No. I’m really here.” He took his mother’s feeble hand in his, rubbing gently.
“I can’t decide whether to hug or slap you.”
“How about both?”
She raised her arm and patted the side of his cheek. “If you weren’t so damned pretty, I’d really smack you.”
He leaned in, drawing his mother close, being careful not to hurt her, but she had other things in mind as she nearly crushed him with a hug and slobbered on his cheek with a million pecks like she used to do when he was a small boy and he’d run away trying to brush them off, totally embarrassed she’d done that in front of his friends.
“You need to shave.” His mother leaned back, folding her arms over her chest.
“I didn’t have much time this morning. We just landed less than an hour ago.”
“Tilly got you to come home.” Her mother waggled a finger under his nose. “And don’t lie to me. I’m not that fragile, and I’m not dead yet.”
He swallowed the sob that smacked the back of his throat and willed the tears glossing over his eyes to fade away. “She had something to do with it.”
“Your father sent her. He doesn’t think I know, even though I might have suggested she was the only one who could do it. He has it in his head that I needed you to come home on your own. But screw that. I’ll take it any way I can. Besides, you and Tilly belong together. Oh, the babies you two will make. They will be spectacular.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t think you could get any more candid, but you have, and you’ve developed a very dry sense of humor.”
“Losing your son, then your second husband, and now dying, will do that to a woman.”
“You didn’t lose me,” he mumbled, wondering if she was trying to hurt him, or just being inappropriately honest.
“Yeah. Actually, I did. After I got the last letter you sent me a year after you’d left, I realized how badly I handled the situationand that you would never forgive me. And don’t go saying that you do just because you think it’s what a dying woman wants to hear because it’s not. I just wanted to see you and have the chance to tell you I’m sorry. In person.”
