Evander was out of the van before Daphne had pulled to a complete stop in front of the house. He didn’t even remember getting into her van. He bounced against the front door and it shook and creaked in protest. Right. Unlock it first. His fingers fumbled over the security code and the dead bolt finally released, letting him in.
His mother was waiting in the entry, sitting on a stool, face pale, fingers trembling as she tied the laces of her running shoes.
“There you are,” she said, as though everything was normal.
But nothing would be normal ever again. Florence had been hiding a massive secret from him. They had been living in the same house, and even though he’d been trained to spot irregularities, he’d missed the fact that his mother had cancer.
She patted his arm and said, “Now, now, you’re blaming yourself for something, aren’t you?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She sighed. “Let’s talk about that later.”
The home’s security alarm began screaming and he wished there was something he could smash to make it shut up. Couldn’t it see they were in the middle of a crisis?
“Where’s your phone?” Florence asked.
Evander patted his large pockets, finding the gadget. He turned off the security alarm, and with his pulse still racing, swept his mother into his arms and out the door.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, put me down.” She gave his shoulder a swat. “I can still walk, you know.”
Daphne’s eyes were as round as saucers as he strode up to the van. She scooted around the van to open the passenger side door, and Evander placed his mother inside, buckling her in. She gave him an exasperated look.
“I haven’t turned into an invalid, you know,” she said sternly. “And don’t forget to lock the house.”
He shut the van without a word and returned to the house to do so. He needed to get an app for that, too.
When he got back to the vehicle, his mother and Daphne were commiserating. He could tell by the way they shut up when he entered the van.
He turned to Tigger, who was silently regarding his mom. “They were talking about me, weren’t they?” he asked.
The girl sat up straighter, as though trying to keep the secret inside.
“No, it’s okay. You can side with your mother,” Evander said. “I know they were complaining. It’s what women do about men.”
Daphne giggled and pulled out, taking them to the medical office as per his mother’s directions. Evander’s right foot kept pressing into the floorboards, wanting them to go faster. Didn’t she know his mother wasn’t well? They needed to get there ASAP.
“Let me drive,” Daphne said calmly.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Florence chuckled in the backseat. “You didn’t tell me Daphne was so lovely.”
Daphne laughed. “I think it’s beyond his capacity to see that.”
The amusement in his mother’s voice allowed some of the tightness in his chest to ease off. If she still had a sense of humor… No, that didn’t work. Soldiers had joked in his arms as they drew their last breath. He needed to pull himself together. He would be no good to his mom if he allowed the fear to take over. Gripping the door handle, he got ready to leap out as soon as they stopped.
A few minutes later, Evander was sitting beside his mother in the doctor’s waiting room, tapping his foot.
“Are you okay? How are you feeling?” he asked again.
Florence sighed, a hint of exasperation darkening her expression.
Daphne and Tigger sat on his opposite side. This was not how he’d envisioned his day going down. He was supposed to keep work and life separated. Not this. The fact that Daphne was doing more of the take-charge and take-care role than he was didn’t help. She’d been the one who’d thoughtfully fetched his mother a cup of cold water from the waiting room’s cooler. She’d been the one who had lowered the room’s blinds so they no longer let the early afternoon’s sun stream into her eyes.
He rubbed his mouth, hating the way his stubble felt against his hand. He needed a shave. He needed to get control. And the more he was around Daphne, the less he seemed to have.
“You look tired,” his mother said.
“So do you.”
“Yes, but I have cancer. It’s a good excuse.” She gave him a beatific smile that nearly stopped his heart.
“Tigger, stop it.” Daphne grasped her daughter’s arm, keeping her from restlessly tapping the table with the flat of her hands.
“How old are you?” his mother asked the girl.
“Five. How old are you?”
Daphne reprimanded her. “You don’t ask adults their age.”
“She asked me first.”
“That’s fine.” Florence smiled. “I’m sixty-three.”
“That’s pretty old,” replied Tigger.
“It is. Come over here and I’ll show you something I’m working on.”
Tigger was at her side in a second flat, taking the free chair to her left. His mom slowly pulled her knitting out of the shoulder bag she’d brought along. Her movements were slow, another hint that she felt worse than she was letting on. Evander reached over and helped settle the ball of yarn on her lap.
With a calm and even voice, Florence began telling Tigger the story about how she’d learned to knit, and what she was making.
“Can you make blankets for fairies?” Tigger asked.
His mom paused thoughtfully. “I don’t see why not. Although I think you would need special yarn. This is too thick and wouldn’t cozy around a fairy in the right way. They are much too delicate. But I have a yarn…yes, a very thin, fine yarn that just might be right for fairies.”
“Really?” Tigger’s eyes were glowing, and she seemed enthralled with his mother. Something pricked at the backs of Evander’s eyes and he breathed a silent prayer that whatever deity or power ruled the planets would spare his mother. Not just so she could be this amazing person for Tigger, but for his own children one day. Now there was a thought that hadn’t struck him since leaving the army. Where had that hope come from?
“About how tall is your fairy friend?” Florence asked.
Tigger placed her palms a few inches apart. “I think they’re about this tall. It’s hard to tell because they’re so fast and secret and magical.” She clasped her hands together, squeezing her shoulders toward her ears as though trying to hold in her exuberance. Cute. That’s what Tigger was. A real-life rocket launcher in human form.
“They live on Nymph Island. I made them houses.”
“Did you know your mother is a woodland nymph?” Florence asked.
Tigger’s eyes grew round and Evander held in a groan. His mom was going to get carried away and the girl was going to be sorely disappointed when the truth hit her.
“It’s true,” Daphne said. “I was named after a woods and plant nymph. All of my sisters were. Hailey is named after the water nymph. Maya is a celestial nymph—stars and such. Melanie is, well, Melanie.”
“She’s not a nymph?” Tigger asked.
“She’s an earth goddess.”
“I miss Auntie Mellie Melon.”
Daphne studied her hands and Evander wondered just how long the two sisters were going to fight.
“Is the doctor ready yet?” he asked, shifting forward. Maybe he should remind the receptionist that they were waiting.
His mother pushed him back in his chair, barely pausing in her knitting. A headline from a newspaper on the table caught his eye. He picked it up. The story was about Rubicore, the municipality and the legal action Melanie had started against them. Which got Evander thinking.
“Where did Austin go?” he asked Daphne.
She gave a shrug.
“I asked him to help keep an eye on you today.”
Another shrug.
Civilians. So reliable in their unreliability. It looked as if it was all on him when it came to watching Daphne and Tigger.
His mother’s name was called, and while she refused his assistance down the long hall to the exam room, she let him guide her past the reception area. Then she paused, hand on his forearm, eyes meeting his.
“You need to keep that family safe, Evander.”
He nodded in reply.
“You need to bring them home, to our house.”
“I’m not bringing them home.”
“How are you going to keep them safe if you aren’t with them? You need to keep them together and you need to be under the same roof. Our roof.”
“I understand that, but I’m not bringing them home.”
“You have the place so rigged up I’m half afraid to move and half afraid not to for fear some sensor will tell you I’ve expired.” She gave a wan smile.
He’d never been a fan of gallows humor and especially not now.
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” he growled, wishing he was like any regular man right now. At home. In front of a game, rum and Coke in hand. “And they are not moving in with us. That’s final.”
His mom patted his cheek and smiled as though she knew something he didn’t. He hated it when she did that.
* * *
Evander wiped his eyelids with the tips of his fingers and sighed. His mom’s appointment had revealed that she was dehydrated—something that scheduled home care could have prevented if his mother hadn’t been trying to hide her cancer from him.
They’d given her fluids intravenously in the doctor’s office, then Daphne had helped take her home. Once Florence was settled, Daphne gave him a ride back to his truck in Port Carling, making him feel about as useful as air-conditioning in the Arctic.
“Why would she try and hide that from me?” His fists were clenched over his knees and he willed himself to open his hands flat.
“Well…” Daphne said, casting him a glance. “Maybe she worried you might try and take over?” There was doubt and hesitancy in her voice.
“But wouldn’t that make her feel better? Knowing someone else was taking care of the details so she could focus on getting better?” The fact that he hadn’t noticed how ill she was made him feel like the world’s worst son. She’d already started radiation and had gone to numerous appointments without him knowing. The fact that she didn’t trust him to know of her illness was the worst part.
She didn’t trust him.
“I thought old age was setting in rather rapidly.” Man, that sounded lame. “She told me it was a cold. I should have known. She normally bounces back from something like that within days.”
“You can’t blame yourself. She’s an adult and makes her own choices for whatever reason.” Daphne’s voice had an edge and he knew she was thinking about her own life.
“When was she going to tell me?”
Before he’d left, he’d called the neighbor to look in on her, even though he’d be gone less than an hour. His mother had protested about bothering their neighbor, but all Evander could think as they drove farther away from her was that he should be there with her.
Daphne pulled up alongside his truck and he faltered. He couldn’t leave her and Tigger unprotected. Coverage wasn’t coming to sit outside their house for another hour. But he needed to get back so he could arrange for home care to do regular check-ins on his mother, as well as live-in help until she got the all-clear. He pinched the bridge of his nose as emotions overwhelmed him. She’d better get the all-clear.
His mom had assured him that radiation would be done in another week and this blip was likely the worst of it all. Then she’d have a scan to see if the treatment had worked. Meaning she would likely try to railroad his attempts to help, since she figured the end was in sight. But she hadn’t reached it yet, which meant she needed help and support. Help and support he wasn’t there to give.
He followed Daphne back to her house, needing to see her tucked in until someone came to relieve him. Thank goodness she’d gone with the flow this afternoon. He’d been so taken aback by his mother that he hadn’t even thought to call Tyrone to get someone over to fill in for him so Daphne could go home.
He phoned Tyrone now, and slapped a GPS locator on the back of Daphne’s van as he ushered the two Summers to the front door. With his mind in two places he was going to need as many gadgets on the job as possible.
“I’m going to double-check the sensors,” he told Daphne, shutting the door behind them. He checked the house, and when he’d decided all was still okay, went to the front door.
Daphne opened it on the first light knuckle rap, not checking the peephole. He knew, because he had his thumb over it, testing her.
“Use your peephole,” he said.
“I knew it was you.”
“No, you didn’t.” He handed her a wad of cash he’d pulled out of his wall safe back in Bracebridge. “For the paintings.”
Not counting it, she shoved it in the pocket of her cardigan, and he found himself wondering if she had a wall safe of her own or would like him to install one.
“I was watching you from the window,” she said, “so I could answer before you rang the bell and woke Tigger—she totally crashed on the couch. What did you put on my van when we were coming inside?”
“A locator. That okay?”
“Other than it being utterly ridiculous?”
“Yes.”
She chewed on her lip for a moment. “I don’t like it.”
“I know.”
“It represents everything that’s wrong with this situation.”
“Tyrone, my boss, will be on watch tonight, other than for a few hours—that will be Chuck, okay?” Evander didn’t like the fact that Chuck was still on the job, but Tyrone was short staffed tonight, to the point of needing to fill in himself to reduce the amount of time they had to lean on someone like Chuck.
“You’re going home?” Daphne hugged her sweater around her, even though it was a warm August evening, and he stepped closer, worried that she was having a tougher time than she was letting on.
He waved his cell phone, wanting to thank her for all she had done that day, but unable to find the right words without showing her his cracks. “I’ll call if I sense any disturbances. You can also call me if you need anything. Do you still have my number?”
She shook her head and, with a sigh, he pushed past her, inhaling her fresh scent. He’d given her his contact info after the Mistral incident, and he’d had a feeling she’d crumpled it up. But things must be changing if she was receptive to having it now. Or at least letting him barge in to give it to her again.
Either way, he’d take it. It would be easier to keep her safe if he had her participation.
In her kitchen, he scrawled his name and numbers on a notepad. “Put this in your phone. Leave it in your van, your house, work. Everywhere. I’m never farther than a breath away, but I want you to feel safe. Know I have your back, Daphne. Even if I’m not on your doorstep.”
She held the small piece of paper, staring at it blankly in the early evening light. Finally she looked up, brushing a mess of curls off her forehead. “Do you live with your mom in Bracebridge?”
“Yes.”
She swallowed hard and he knew she was thinking that being twenty minutes away wasn’t exactly next door if she was having an emergency. Normally, he’d find a place closer, but with his mom…
“Chuck and Tyrone will keep you safe.”
Her lips parted and Evander resisted the urge to kiss her.
Strange. He wasn’t one to get involved with his job. And that’s what she was, a job. Plus, she wasn’t his type. She’d take him to task on every thing in his life, and he didn’t have the energy to battle that on a daily basis. Nor a desire to. The woman of his dreams would take him for who he was.
“I’m out,” he said, striding through the small house, which was warm and friendly—just like Daphne and her daughter. “Call if you need anything. Any time of day. If I call, pick up.” He held on to the door frame. It was now or never. He swallowed hard. “Thanks, Daphne.”
“For what? Not busting your balls?” She gave him a light shove, her hands warm on his chest, and he once again had to rein in the urge to kiss her.
“Yeah. And for today. Appreciate it.”
She nodded and he closed the door, calling through it, “I want to hear those locks click into place, Daphne.”
He could hear her sigh from the other side of the door, but the sound of metal on metal made him smile.
“See you in the morning,” he said. With one last check on her place using his app, he waved to Chuck, who had finally arrived, yawning and holding up a Big Gulp. Evander headed home to take care of his mom and present her with a painting he figured she’d enjoy staring at as much as her garden.