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I’ve got a few potential hits pulled up on my laptop. Usually, there’s about a weeklong grace period between the end of one assignment and the start of the next, but I want to hit the ground running on this one, especially since Jess shorted me on my last paycheck.
I push off the thought about the small but mighty collection of my mother’s hospital bills I have stashed away in a desk drawer.
“Enough about my work woes,” I say. “I’ll think about all this stuff later. Last time we talked, you said you’ve got a hunk of a coworker tagging along with you on all these trips. You do anything about that?” I waggle my brows at her. Workplace fraternization is definitely a no-go in my realm, but Quinn has always treated no-fly zones as a greenlight.
Her face lights up at the mention of Workplace Hunk. I knew it; there’s definitely something going on there. It’ll be a hell of a lot better than talking about my own workplace troubles.
“Oh, have I ever! I’ve been putting all the moves on. Every possible innuendo. Nice perfume every time we’re out together. Suggesting dinners. Brushing against him accidentally.”
“And?”
“The man is like a stone wall!” She pouts. “He has no reaction to literally, like, anything. He’s all about work, work, work. And then when we’re off the clock, he’s still about work. You know, I love a good work ethic, but I’m trying to get it in, you know?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Quinn, really? You could nab any man you wanted.”
“Yeah, but I want that one. At least long enough to give him a test drive before I get bored. You know what they say, sowing wild oats and all that.”
“Don’t they usually say that about guys?”
Quinn shrugs. “Who cares? It’s what I’m trying to do. That’s okay, though.” She gives me a wild grin, showing off her white teeth. “I like the challenge. It’ll be even better when I finally get him in the sack.”
I roll my eyes. Out of the corner of them, I catch the time on my tablet. “Ah, shoot, it’s late. I’m gonna go, okay? It’s about time to swing by Mom’s before I grab dinner.”
Quin nods. “No problem. Hey, how’s she doing? Everything alright lately?”
I give a small shrug of my shoulder. “As good as it’s going to be, I guess? She hasn’t had any episodes for a while, so I’m hoping that that’s a good sign.”
Quinn smiles. “Me, too, babe. Me, too. Tell Lisa I said hi!”
* * *
I’m pulling into my mother’s driveway about thirty minutes later. I scooped up some Chinese takeout en route: beef and broccoli and two fresh egg rolls, her favorite. Mom doesn’t leave the house often, so any kind of treat that I can bring to her is always appreciated.
I love being able to do those small things for her. For as long as I can remember, she’s been my rock. Just like Quinn, I don’t know what I would do without her.
Humming, I knock on her door. I didn’t call her before heading out because I wanted this to be a surprise. She always lights up when I drop by unexpectedly.
But after a minute of no answer, I start to get worried. I knock on the door again. “Mom?”
Still no answer.
Panic wells up in my throat. I immediately go for my keys. I’ve had a spare to my mom’s house for years now, just in case. There’s been many “just in cases.” No matter how many I experience, though, it never makes it easier to open up that door, knowing that I’m going to find my mother in a state that makes my heart want to rip out of my chest.
It takes me a frantic few seconds to get the keys in the lock. Another few to jiggle the deadbolt free.
Finally, it clacks open. I throw my shoulder into the door, burst in—and see my worst nightmare come to life.
My mother is at the foot of her stairs, splayed out horrifically. Arms going one way, legs the other. Her cheek presses against the hardwood floor and her eyes are closed. If I didn’t know any better, it’d be like she was sleeping.
That urge to cry comes back all at once. I push it down.
“Mom!”
I drop the Chinese takeout on the floor, leave the door wide open, and sprint to her side. I press two fingers to the underside of her wrist to check her pulse. It’s soft and erratic, but it’s there.
Thank God.
I brush her hair out of her face, but I don’t move her. That’s always the hardest thing to do—keep her in the position that I find her in. The doctors always said that if she’s broken something or gotten a concussion, I could make it worse by shifting her.
