Page 10 of Lone Star Longing
“When they remember,” she grumped.
“How long has it been?” he asked before he thought maybe her attitude might have something to do with their failing memories. After all, there was only so much even a church lady could handle, right?
“I’ve been a couple times since Christmas.”
“Is there someone you can call to remind them to come pick you up?”
“I don't want to be a burden. On anyone,” she added pointedly. “You going to get your water or what?”
Feeling twelve years old again, he got a glass from the cabinet and filled it with the water. He’d forgotten how good well water tasted, and filled it again. Then he leaned against the sink to face her.
“So what is it you do all day? The chickens are gone, I see. Do you even go outside anymore?” He wondered if he, Sara and Conrad could convince her to sell and move closer to town, to civilization. If she didn't have anything keeping her out here, they could sell the land and set her up for the rest of her life in comfort.
“I watch TV, and I do some crochet. I earned it,” she said, lifting her chin. “I worked hard all my life and I earned sitting on my ass for the end of it.”
“Sitting on your ass may mean the end of it,” he countered. “How’s the diabetes?”
“What do you care, Beck? When was the last time you were here? Now you’re worried about me?”
He tried to work out how old she was. He didn't think he’d ever known. His brother Conrad was the youngest, and he was twenty eight. His oldest brother was thirty five. He didn't think his mother had been young when Marcus was born, so...maybe seventy? “I’m always worried about you, Mom, but I just can’t deal with your attitude. I’m sorry, but it’s true.”
She scowled. “Well, you’ve seen me. Now you can move on to wherever you were going.”
“No, ma’am, I can’t, not until you’re better situated. I don't want this house falling down around you, so I’m going into town to see if I can get a handyman or someone to come out and get things taken care of.”
“You absolutely will not. I don't want some stranger in my house, on my property.”
“I got that.” He wondered, briefly, if she’d greeted the church ladies with her shotgun. “But you can’t be falling through those bad floorboards, or through the rotten railing.” And those were just the things he’d noticed on his way in. The living room had been dark, and he hadn’t made his way back to the bathroom or bedrooms yet.
“I know where the bad spots are to avoid them.”
“You shouldn’t have to. Like you said, you worked hard all your life, and you earned living in a house that’s not falling around your ears. If you have trouble with someone being in here to fix it for you, well, I don't know what to tell you. Do you have a friend you can stay with?” Okay, so he already knew the answer to that. “Maybe you could stay at the motel in town for a week or so.”
“That’s ridiculous. Who would want to stay there?”
He thought about offering to take her with him to Las Vegas, but he knew they’d kill each other by the time they got out of Texas.
“Then, Mom, you’re going to have to deal with someone in your house.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You want to sell this place. That’s why you want it fixed up.”
“Eventually, yeah, we’re going to sell this place, and it’s easier to get it under repair now than if we let it get worse.”
“You’re just waiting for me to die.”
“Mom, that’s not true. But you’re being really difficult right now. The house needs work. Who do you want to do it?”
“You do it.”
“Mom, I’m not a handyman.” And he needed to be in Las Vegas for Riley’s race by next week. Hell, he’d wanted to get there this week for some R and R. He just had to stop home, hadn’t he? Mistake.
“I do not want a stranger in my house. It’s you, or it’s nobody.”
Well, then. Nobody. But when he walked back into the living room and flicked on a light, he could see damage to the ceiling from a leak in the roof, and when he continued down the hall, more floor damage, what looked like water eating at the wood plank flooring. Maybe there was a leak in the bathroom wall. He peeked inside, and yes. Pretty sure water was getting into the sheetrock from the cracked bathroom tiles. He’d be stunned if this house wasn't infested with mold.
And the toilet didn't sit right on the floor. He wasn't sure if that was a plumbing issue or a foundation issue. Hell, it might be easier to just tear this place down and start over.
This job was going to take way longer than a week, and way more knowledge than he had. And that wasn't even including the barn and the fencing.
