AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Please just let him understand when all this was finally over.
"I'm afraid I've only got a couple minutes," I said.
"That's okay," Mark said promptly. "I'm just glad you called and you're all right. You are, aren't you?"
"I'm fine." Automatic brushoff. "Are you? Are you eating anything other than mac ‘n’ cheese out of the blue box?"
"Yogurt," he admitted.
That was better than it could have been. It almost sounded healthy.
Maybe I could tell Cole the rainforest product had done its work and there was healthy food waiting for me back in Seattle and I had to go.
But I wasn't strong enough and I wasn't ready and I wasn't leaving until I could have everything back because to do so would be to quit and to always wonder what I could have done, or to fall straight back into addiction.
"Mark, is my dad –? " I didn't finish.
"He's okay, Annie. He's at home, got about a million doctor’s appointments so he doesn't get bored."
It was my turn to snort.
"And someone paid for him to have round the clock nursing on premises."
On premises. Only Mark could come up with a term like that for my parents' small, ranch style house.
"What do you mean?" I asked. "Does he need that kind of care?"
I could imagine him dry washing his face with one hand. "Not really. But it doesn't hurt and it takes a load of work and worry off your mom."
An idea was growing. Cole had said something about skilled nursing and now Mark was telling me my dad had a nurse in the house 24/7.
"No one knows where the funds are from?"
"Anonymous," Mark said.
I started to smile.
The rest of the conversation was about nothing in particular and lasted about a minute and a half. If I'd truly been undercover this wouldn't have been uncommon. Ditto calling from Cole's house.
Turned out my dad was taking walks through the neighborhood and eating right whether he wanted to or not. My mom was working part time at the bank and a skilled nursing service was making things easier for her.
A skilled nursing service paid for by an anonymous benefactor.
I made promises of calling again when I could, which was a lie. I'd call if I freaked out again and had to know. It would be about my dad. Mark was in a low-risk job and he was young. Nothing was going to happen to Mark and that gave me comfort and the ability to lean on him the way my mom had leaned on my dad for so many years, free to transfer her worry to her four children.
Mark didn't get that, though. He didn't understand it was a compliment that I didn't worry about him because I knew he could take care of himself. He just thought it meant I didn't check in on him like I did on other people.
So he felt singled out and then ignored. Sometimes any relationship seemed like too much work.
We talked for another minute, I told him I loved him, not lying but knowing it didn't rank where it should in my priorities, that love of ours. If I hadn't needed an update on my father, I wouldn't have called him.
Where did that leave my real life? Once I was finished with the work I was doing with Cole, what exactly would I be going back to?
And would it be enough?
I said goodbye and hung up and turned around. Stopped dead in my tracks, cold chills running through me.
Cole St. Martin stood in the doorway of the little office.
