Jon sighs like he has to give up the world.
“I’m sorry, Ry. I’ll be nice to this gal and keep my mouth shut while she’s here about any reservations I have.”
As I let them talk back and forth, I make the coffee like the good son I am.
“Thank you, my Juan. You make your ma’s heart happy.”
Looking down at the only woman I have ever really loved, I kiss her cheek and say, “Anythin’ for you, Ma.”
Jane
I pull up to the address my GPS gives me as the address I’m looking for. It looks like a beautiful, rambling farmhouse with lovely beds of roses in the front. I park at the curb and my SUV knocks as it shuts off. Choosing to ignore the noise for now, I grab my purse and head up the front walk. I can hear voices as I reach the front door. It sounds like maybe the whole family came today to see if I can work for them. It wouldn’t be the first time someone didn’t think I could work with a man taller than me. I always seem to end up proving them wrong. After knocking on the door, I step back to wait for someone to let me in. As it opens, I see a good-looking, youngish sandy-colored-haired guy with a smile open the door.
“Hi, I’m Ry. The one who spoke with the agency.”
Smiling in greeting, I tell him, “I’m Jane. I’m looking forward to helping your family.”
“Come on in and meet Ma and my brothers. Pa is just waking up in his room, so we need to give him some time with his coffee before we expose you to him.”
Chuckling, I say, “Oh, I understand that. Coffee is the nectar of the gods.”
“Ry, you let the young lady inside so I can meet her.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ry steps aside and a woman, almost my height, with long luscious hair that is more silver than gray, comes up to me smiling. “I’m Linnea, but everyone calls me Ma.”
“Nice to meet you, Linnea-err, Ma. I look forward to helping you get Mr. Weston back up and be more himself.”
“Well, let me get you a cup of coffee. We’ll have a sit and see what we can do about that.”
“Ma, I got the coffee for you.” Turning to look, I look up at some of the deepest hazel eyes I’ve ever seen before, peeking behind dark brown, almost black hair that slipped down in front of averygood-looking tan face. He has to be at least six foot three.
“Oh, Juan, my boy, thank you, child.”
“Sure, Ma, no problem.”
I grab a mug from him and as I pay attention to doctoring it, I hear numerous chairs scraping across the floor and more than one person sitting down. As I look up, I look into chocolate brown eyes that feel like they’re looking into my soul and are definitely judging me. They are definitely not sold on my being here.
“Now, young lady, what is your plan to best help me get my Jonah back?” Turning my attention to the only opinion I think really matters in the room, I know this is a question I can handle.
“Well, ma’am, first and foremost, I’m here to give you a break. To let you sit and enjoy a cup of coffee and a book, go out and run an errand or even get a nap in. I can administer any of Mr. Weston’s medications and feed him any meals as well. I’m happy to give sponge baths if that’s required as well. I also plan to use some of his therapist’s recommended exercises to get his fine motor skills in better working order. We’ll eventually take walks outside of the house, but for the near future, just basic walking from the bedroom to his chair in the living room and back. Now—”
“What if Pa needs help and his walker isn’t around? How are you going to help him when he’s so much taller than you?”
Mister Growly Dark and Handsome has a voice so gravely I could listen to it read the yellow pages. He also doesn’t believe I can do my job.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name?”
“Mr. Grump is Jon, but don’t worry. I talked to your boss and understood you’ve dealt with patients even taller than my pa,” Ry chimes in while glaring at Jon.
I nod at Ry while trying to hide my grin from Jon and remembering it isn’t professional to stick my tongue out at a jackass while on the job. “I have, and I've got references from that gentleman if you want to check me out further.”
“Son, this isn’t an interrogation. The woman has stunning references and you need to give her a chance to do the job she was trained to do.”
Looking not a bit sorry, Sir Grumpy mumbles, “Sorry, Ma.”
Waving him off, I say, “It’s alright. It happens to me more often than you know. How about I meet Mr. Weston and we can discuss with him some of the therapies we’ll be doing? Oh, also, does he have any allergies to food of any kind? I like to try out new recipes and share my baking experiments on occasion with my clients.”
“Oh, sweetheart, that right there is the way to my man’s heart. You’ll have him doing those therapies just to get a cookie any day.”
