34. Jensen
34
JENSEN
Today’s the day Vera learns of her official diagnosis from Dr. Garcia. Maisy hinted at not wanting to make the trip to San Antonio alone with her mother, so I offered to join them. One day, I hope she’s no longer afraid to ask for help outright, especially from me.
I show up at Vera’s house ten minutes before the scheduled departure time. Parking behind the old pickup truck near the curb, I kill the engine and wait a few seconds, observing the mother and daughter. They don’t exchange any words as Vera climbs into the passenger seat of her compact car. Maisy looks my way, and I take her eye roll as my signal to approach.
“I thought we’d take my Jeep,” I say, flipping my keyring around my finger.
“I can drive.”
It’s too early in the morning—and too hot with the June heat—for her to be weighed down by defeat already. Huffing, she gathers her hair on top of her head and secures it with a hair tie, leaving a few curls loose around her face. Her willingness to wear her hair up in public speaks volumes. She’s done with this day, and we haven’t had breakfast yet.
I glance through the open door of the car and grimace. The driver’s seat practically kisses the steering wheel. “Let me drive her car.”
“You’ll have plenty of room in the back,” she says.
Flip. Flip. Flip. I spin the keyring and consider how to broach the topic of her safety without offending her. She’s sensitive about her height. I’m a big guy, and I’d happily squeeze my ass into the uncomfortable back seat without complaint under most circumstances, but I do have a complaint: the proximity of the driver’s seat to the airbag. She’ll break every bone in her face if we crash.
Flip. Flip. Flip. I won’t chance losing another loved one. My parents died in a head-on collision. And Logan’s accident could’ve been avoided if I’d been more diligent.
Flip. Flip. Flip. Fuck it.
Pointing at the car, I say, “That seat is too close?—”
My insistence backfires, and Mount Saint Maisy erupts. “I swear to god, Jensen, if you make a joke about me needing a booster seat, you can stay here. I’m not in the mood. Get in the damn car.”
I live for the dark pink flames of anger staining her cheeks, but right now I’m too concerned for her life to be aroused. Bending to place my mouth close to her ear, I lower my voice and say, “I would never tease you like that, but I demand your safety. I’m driving. End of discussion.” Then I snatch the keys from her hand and slip into the cramped driver’s seat.
She lets out a frustrated growl before dropping into the back seat and slamming the door. Because I need extra leg room in the tiny vehicle, she scoots over and sits behind Vera, who scrutinizes our interaction with a furrowed brow.
“I thought you said the two of you aren’t friends,” she says to Maisy.
Cutting off any chance I have to speak, Maisy replies, “He insisted on coming.”
Meeting her gaze in the rearview mirror, I narrow my eyes, letting her know I’m not at all happy with the lie.
Done with expressing any interest in her daughter, Vera faces forward and spends the next half hour reminiscing with me about the days Logan and I played football together. She tells the same stories she told when Lucy and I drove her to San Antonio months ago. The difference between this car ride and the previous one is Maisy’s presence, which Vera ignores.
“How many times did we make this drive for football camps and games? You boys were always so rowdy on road trips, but the parents loved packing all of you in the vans we rented and listening to you rib each other.” Wistfulness casts a sheen over her eyes as she gazes through the windshield. “Such fun days. I used to love traveling.”
“Maisy has traveled all over the world,” I say, reminding Vera she has another child—in the back seat.
She summons a glance for her daughter and says, “She has,” before carrying on as if we’re the only two people in the car. “You haven’t been by to see me in a while. What’s keeping you so busy?”
“I met a woman.” For Maisy’s benefit, I add, “She’s special, and I try to spend as much time with her as I can.”
Vera’s expression brightens with a smile I haven’t seen on her face in ages. “Good for you. I hope she’s a nice girl. You deserve someone who’ll appreciate small-town life and value family. Someone to keep your home and raise your kids. Be sure you don’t take anything for granted. You and I both know it can all end in the blink of an eye.”
Her joyous expression falters as sorrow weighs down her features. Irritated by her inadvertent disregard for Maisy, I white knuckle the steering wheel and check the rearview mirror, worried about what I’ll find.
Maisy’s eyes glisten with unshed tears as she stares out the back window, a fist over her mouth and her throat flexing on a thick swallow. The sight of her suppressing the hurt guts me, and I can’t hold my tongue any longer.
“You know, Vera, I’ve always known when I have something good. Something worth holding on to. I took a good thing for granted once, and I’ll never make that mistake again. I wish you’d open your eyes and see what a good thing you’ve had all along.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, shocked by the biting edge in my voice. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Maisy.”
Flustered, Vera clutches the buttons at the collar of her shirt. “Of course I know how wonderful she is. She was a good kid and never complained about anything. And she was such a supportive sister to Logan.”
Logan . Maisy didn’t support Logan. She attended his games and practices because she didn’t have a choice until she was old enough to stay home alone. Even then, she had to choose between being by herself or being with the family who ignored her. I’ll never understand how her parents don’t recognize their shortcomings regarding their daughter. Their obliviousness to how they’ve treated her baffles me.
Silence reigns in the car after our exchange. Vera faces the passenger window, giving me the cold shoulder. Maisy fights tears, struggling to keep it together in the back seat, and she won’t make eye contact with me. I reach between the seats and grab her hand, letting out a quiet sigh of relief when she gives mine a squeeze.
How can Vera not realize the psychological damage she and Richard caused Maisy? And she continues to inflict more harm whenever she steers a conversation toward Logan’s memory and away from Maisy’s existence. I can confidently say her ignorance no longer matters at this point. Vera doesn’t deserve Maisy. Period.
The three of us say little during the meeting with Dr. Garcia. Relief flashes in his eyes when Maisy insists on me joining them in his office, claiming it’s good to have an extra set of ears in case she or Vera miss any details. He must have registered the lack of willful communication between mother and daughter right away. The emotional distance between them is prevalent even when they’re standing side by side.
Dr. Garcia confirms what everyone suspects. Vera has multiple sclerosis, or MS. He gives us a list of resources for patient and caregiver education, medical assistance, and support groups. He explains her treatment options and the plan he recommends trying first. Apparently, Vera’s had mild symptoms for years and hid them. Without treatment, the severity of her flare-ups worsened. Maisy and I are both surprised by this revelation. Vera’s not.
She remains stoic during the appointment, resigned to her fate as the doctor explains the lifestyle changes and outcomes she can expect. Maisy, on the other hand, vibrates like she’s fighting the urge to flee the room. She fidgets in her seat, knee bouncing and lips pressed in a thin line as she listens.
Dr. Garcia’s firm tone conveys the seriousness of the situation when he addresses Vera. “Our priority is to get your symptoms under control so you can resume most daily activities. This will take time, and you will have to manage your condition for the rest of your life. There is no cure, so your honesty with me and the nurses will be the difference between failure or success. Do you understand, Vera?”
“Yes,” she rasps. The tremor in her voice is the first sign of fear she’s shown throughout the meeting, but I find it harder and harder to muster sympathy for her these days.
Once the appointment ends, and Vera’s tucked into the passenger seat again, I guide Maisy around to the back of the car and lean on the trunk. “Tell me your thoughts,” I say, resting my hands on her waist.
Her bottom lip trembles, so she bites down on it and shrugs, helpless. “Who will take care of her? I can’t do it, Jensen. I can’t drift around her, feeling like an unwelcome ghost, for the rest of her life. It’s too hard.”
I pull her between my thighs and graze a thumb in circles along her side. “She can find help on her own. After the way she’s treated you, you don’t owe her anything.”
“So I just abandon her?”
Lifting an eyebrow, I ask, “Did she not abandon you in a way? She prioritized everything else above you, even if she didn’t realize it. Any relationship takes effort from both parties, and you’ve given her plenty of chances to be a mother to you. She hasn’t, so it’s okay for you to be done.”
She blows out a long, shaky breath, and a few relieved tears trickle down her cheeks. “Why does the thought of letting go of her make me feel a hundred pounds lighter? Am I a horrible person?”
“If you lose a hundred pounds, nothing will be left of you but a tooth,” I say, teasing to prevent her from drowning in unnecessary guilt.
She drops her forehead against my chest and lets out an agonizing groan. “Do you think I’ll hate myself if I go through with it? If I cut her off, there’s no going back. We’re both too stubborn.”
I’m more than familiar with Maisy’s savage way of severing ties, but someone has to care about being cut off to be affected by the act. From what I can tell, Vera won’t even notice if Maisy never comes around again. It’s a sad truth and a damn shame.
“You know how I am about helping people. But I can say, with absolute certainty, that woman”—I jab a thumb over my shoulder—“has no right to depend on you for help. No one will judge you for cutting ties with her regardless of her medical situation.”
Raising her head to look at me, she heaves a sigh. “I’ll have to think about it.”
I’m not sure what there is to think about, but ending the relationship with Vera is Maisy’s decision alone. All I can do is stand by and support her in whatever way she needs me.
“Let’s get back to Walford and drop her off, then I’ll teach you how to mix a few cocktails.”
I have to relieve Javi, who offered to open the bar today. We should make it back in time for me to open instead.
She bats her thick eyelashes at me. “Are you putting me to work, boss man?”
“Watch it,” I say, giving her ass a hard squeeze. “Or I’ll put that smart mouth to work.”
“You’re such a tease. All promises, but no follow-through.”
I press a kiss to her forehead and open the back door. “You’ll regret those words later.”