Chapter 17
Afternoon Delight
Shortly after Walker received an emergency call from my dad, I got one from him too.
Mama’s night nurse couldn’t make it because she came down with the flu, and he was tied up with the same public disturbance at the bar he’d called Walker about, which promised to keep them busy well into the morning.
Once I made sure the animals were settled in, the kittens and I spent the night at my parents’.
Since they have to be bottle-fed, it was easier to bring them along than to worry about going back and forth.
I could have asked someone to watch them, but that would’ve raised questions about why I had to stay with my mama.
Earl, of course, wouldn’t stop grilling me when he showed up to drive me.
He still had lipstick on his neck and was wearing his shirt backward—what I assumed had been a late-night rendezvous with Ethel.
Somehow, though, he still managed to pick up the veggie burger and sweet potato fries that Walker had asked him to grab from Prickly Pear Diner before coming to get me.
I fell asleep in Mama’s bed, wanting to stay close in case she needed me. Each rise and fall of her chest was a comforting reminder that she’s still here with me.
When I wake up, I find her watching me, a weary smile on her lips.
“Good m-morning, honey,” she says, voice a little shaky.
“Morning, Mama,” I whisper.
I’m relieved she seems to be doing well this morning, a small bright spot in what’s become increasingly difficult days.
The kittens are nestled between us. Mama helped me finally choose their names—Logan and Rory, named after her favorite Gilmore Girls characters.
Logan is batting at the tassels on the blanket draped over our legs.
He has endless energy and refuses to sit still for even a moment, while his sister, Rory, is as mellow as can be, curled up on Mama’s lap, purring softly as she cracks open an eye before closing it again.
She’s clearly not ready to start the day—and honestly, I can’t blame her. It was a long night.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask Mama.
She gives a small shake of her head. “No… just s-stay with me.”
I squeeze her hand gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I was scheduled for a shift today, but I called my manager, Ed, last night to tell him I couldn’t make it. Thankfully, he was understanding and didn’t make a fuss.
Mama lets out a relieved sigh. “Good. Now t-tell me, how is Nugget doing? I w-wish you’d have brought her too.”
She’s always encouraged my love for animals.
When I was little and rescued a stray puppy from an alley, she persuaded my dad to let me keep it.
Years later, in middle school, I brought home a pig that was being sent to slaughter, and she helped me find him a good home since our backyard wasn’t big enough to keep him.
Running the sanctuary is my way of honoring our shared love of animals, even though she can’t participate alongside me.
During my visits, I always give her updates and bring along my rescues whenever I can.
Nugget is a regular visitor and loves curling up on Mama’s legs.
We recently discovered she has a particular fascination with Kirk from Gilmore Girls, and anytime he’s on the screen, she fluffs up and emits a series of contented clucks.
“Nugget thinks she’s the kittens’ mama.” I pull up a picture on my phone of her snuggled up with Logan and Rory, their heads poking out from under her wing.
“I s-suppose that means you have to keep them, then?” she questions, letting out a small laugh that wavers with effort.
“You’re right.” I scoop up Logan, who swats playfully at my fingers with his tiny paws. “They’re officially part of the family. I couldn’t bear to separate them.”
I’m not just keeping them for Nugget’s sake—but for mine too. I get attached far too easily, and each goodbye to a rescued animal hurts more than the last. I’m constantly coming up with excuses to keep them even though I’m running out of space and time to care for them all.
Mama rests her hand over mine. “I’m so proud of you, sweet girl.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, determined not to cry before breakfast. Every touch, every shared moment is precious—especially ones like this, when she reaches out on her own, even knowing it might be painful.
“You made me who I am,” I murmur.
“Not true. Your courage and b-bravery come from right here.” She slowly lifts her hand to my heart. “You’re a r-remarkable woman and have accomplished so much despite everything life has thrown at you.”
“I’m not sure Dad would agree,” I mumble.
I haven’t told her about my night in jail or how disappointed he is that I can’t stay out of trouble. It would only ruin the fragile peace we’ve managed to hold on to.
“Oh, honey, of course he would. Your f-father loves you more than you know.” She reaches out with a trembling hand, brushing my cheek. “He just h-has trouble showing it sometimes, especially when his personal life and c-career pull him in different directions.”
I set Logan down on the bed and rest my head against her shoulder. “I miss the way things used to be.”
Life before she got sick was ordinary in the best way.
Sundays meant brunch at the diner, and Tuesdays were for Mama’s homemade pizza and a movie.
At night, she and Dad would take walks around the neighborhood while I sat on the porch reading a book.
They held hands and gazed into each other’s eyes, their love obvious in every glance.
It breaks my heart that the carefree family we once were is now nothing more than a distant memory.
“Look a-at me,” Mama whispers.
I find a solemn expression on her face when I do.
“What is it?” I ask.
“You h-had to grow up far too quickly because of my diagnosis, and I r-refuse to let you put your life on pause for me any longer.”
“What do you mean? I haven’t–”
She raises a brow, stopping me mid-thought. “Birdie, y-you spend all your free time in this house, and I know how lonely it’s been not having anyone to s-share what you’re going through, aside from your father and me.”
“I want to spend time with you,” I argue.
There’s no guarantee how much longer we’ll have together.
“Yes, b-but I don’t want you to let life slip by in the process.
Wren’s off with her family in Florida, Briar’s e-engaged with a son of her own, and Charlie will eventually meet her match—bless that poor soul,” Mama jokes.
“It’s y-your turn to find happiness now, and I don’t want you putting that on hold because of me. ”
I stay quiet, letting her words sink in.
Looking back, I see now that whenever I had a chance to go out with friends or on a date, I chose to stay home if Dad wasn’t around.
It wasn’t really a choice—it was a necessity.
Even after he hired nurses to cover around-the-clock shifts, I let fear and guilt dictate my priorities, building a self-imposed cage I hadn’t realized I’d constructed.
I suppose that’s why I never pursued anything romantic before now. Compared with the responsibilities of caring for Mama, it all seemed trivial, and my lack of experience made me clumsy and self-conscious around guys whenever I did try to show interest.
“I’m actually seeing someone,” I whisper.
A smile lights up Mama’s face. “You are? When were you p-planning on introducing me to this mystery man?”
I don’t tell her she’s already met him. She and Julie used to work together at the elementary school before Mama had to quit, and she often stopped by the Halsteads when picking me up or dropping me off to play with Briar, so she knows Heath and Walker well.
Even if she has met the guy I’m seeing, Dad would never allow him near Mama without first being certain he could be trusted to keep her health under wraps.
One more reason dating has always been complicated.
I sit up and turn to face her, clearing my throat. “It’s still really new so we’re taking things slow. I just wanted you to know so you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”
I would have preferred to keep this to myself, but if it can give her a little peace of mind, even if it’s not entirely the truth, it’s worth it.
Mama chuckles softly. “Honey, I’m your mother. I’m always g-going to worry about you.”
“Well, hopefully this at least eases your mind a bit,” I tease with a smile. “Are you hungry? How about I make you a berry smoothie and some soup?”
“That s-sounds delicious.” If she catches my attempt to redirect the conversation, she lets it slide. “I think I’ll t-take a short nap in the meantime.”
“Of course. Get some rest,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
She settles back against her pillows, her eyes drifting closed. Logan has joined his sister on Mama’s lap, and both are now dozing too, so I leave them where they are. No doubt when I get back, they’ll be awake and ready for breakfast too.
I climb off the bed and circle around to her side to adjust the comforter.
A new paperback catches my eye on her nightstand—this one is a trending MM hockey romance.
Lately, there’s been a book there every few days, and I’m not sure why, since the severe tremor in her hands makes holding a book or using an e-reader impossible.
Some of the nurses have offered to read to her, but she’s always turned them down. She prefers a deep male voice when listening to romance novels. So she’s either had a change of heart or maybe one of the nurses keeps their book here to read while Mama rests.
I head to the kitchen to begin breakfast, starting by turning on the coffee maker. I’m going to need all the caffeine I can get today. While it brews, I check my phone, and a smile crosses my lips when I see a new text message.
Walker: How’s your day going?
I snap a selfie of me preparing the kittens’ bottles.
Birdie: Playing hooky at Mama’s.
Walker: Sounds like the perfect excuse to skip work. Wish I could have tagged along.
Me too.