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She put a finger to his lips. "You did a wonderful thing today. Every day. I love you not just for trying so hard with my mother, but for everything. I've learned recently about the power of positive thinking," she said with a grin. "So let's not think about anything bad anymore, only the good stuff to come."
She leaned in to kiss him on the lips. Then, because she didn't want him to feel as though he had to say the words back to her, she grabbed the carryall and turned to follow her mother, knowing he would be right there behind her, behind them.
Always there for them.
*
I love you.
Sebastian had just failed Charlie, failed her mother. Even with a billion dollars, he couldn't fix this, couldn't make things better for Francine.
Yet--amazingly--Charlie loved him anyway.
No one had ever loved him for his failures and it left him speechless. All he could do was follow the woman of his dreams out of the nursing home, her words playing like a musical refrain in his head.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
He wanted to grab Charlie, ask her if she really meant it. Ask her how she could love him when he hadn't come through for her mother. But with Francine watching them, a knowing smile on her face, he simply stowed her belongings in the spacious trunk of his luxury vehicle and helped her into the front seat like a queen.
Once they arrived at Magnolia Gardens, she oohed and aahed over the front entry, the carpeted lobby lined with cushioned chairs, the lounge with sofas, card tables, and two big-screen TVs for movie nights, the dining room with white tablecloths and colored cloth napkins. "It's just like a real restaurant," Francine enthused.
Sebastian barely noticed the details at first, given that his entire world had just shifted on its axis with three little words. Momentous words. Unbelievable words. When he finally focused on Francine's new nursing home, he had to admit it was far better than Shady Lane. Magnolia Gardens was more like a large hotel complex than a nursing home. But it still wasn't the Ritz. Francine didn't seem to mind at all, however. She gasped at the beautiful flowers in the gardens and was near tears at the bouquet of roses he'd sent to her room.
"You are such a dear boy, Sebastian."
Her living room featured a postage-stamp sized flat-panel TV and utilitarian furniture. The chairs seemed comfortable enough, though still institutional. French doors opened onto a balcony with a small table and a plastic chair.
"I'll bring you a nice new comforter for the bed, Mom. Something with a flower print." Charlie unpacked the porcelain cups and plates, stowing them in a cabinet over a counter with a wet-bar sized sink and a dorm-room fridge. "And we'll get an electric kettle for your tea."
Every time Charlie spoke, he could hear her saying it again. The very best thing anyone had ever said to him. I love you. And also, in many ways, the most unbelievable. It would be one thing if she'd said it when he'd landed her a new commission. But to say the words after he'd come up with nothing but blanks for her mother?
Belatedly realizing that Francine was trying to sit in the chair, he hurried to help her into it. "Oh my. This is so wonderful." She picked up a card that said they had free Wi-Fi for the residents and shook her head. "I'm overwhelmed."
Yet Sebastian still wanted more for her. So much more.
"Are you going to stay for dinner?" she asked brightly.
"I would love to." He wanted to see if the food was up to snuff. If it wasn't, he'd have to consider how to break it to Charlie.
After her meager belongings had been put away, they headed to the dining room. Francine stared goggle-eyed at the posted dining menu as though she'd never had a choice between grilled tilapia and Irish stew before. They parked her walker outside the dining room in a long line of wheeled conveyances, and Sebastian ushered her in on his arm. At the buffet, Charlie put a little of everything on Francine's plate. In addition to hot food in warming trays, the salad bar sported an impressive array of cut vegetables, and along the back wall, various desserts decorated the countertop. When Charlie wasn't visiting, a waiter would assemble Francine's meal for her.
"If you don't feel like eating the buffet," Charlie said once she returned to the table, "you can order off this standard menu." She held up a small display stand. "Fish and chips. Crab cakes. Grilled ham and cheese. Hamburger. Garden burger. And steamed broccoli."
"Oh, I love broccoli." Francine daintily attacked the Irish stew. "Mmm. Very good."
It wasn't filet mignon. It wasn't even gourmet. But thankfully, it wasn't plastic cafeteria food either.
"Isn't this marvelous, Sebastian?"
Francine damn near glowed, and it really hit home what her life had been like at Shady Lane. Both Francine and Charlie were so delighted and excited. Was he jaded by five-star hotels and first-rate service? Or was he just trying to make up for not being able to cure Francine of her illness?
Under the table, he put his hand on Charlie's thigh. Though he'd tried to hold back while they were with Francine--he didn't want the dear lady to think he was always pawing her daughter--he had to touch Charlie, craving the connection, brief as it was. She laid her fingers over his, keeping him close for a moment. Nowhere near long enough. Forever wouldn't be long enough.
They were on to dessert when Francine asked Charlie, "How are your class plans coming together for the fall? Any new, exciting projects on tap?"
Charlie suddenly became engrossed in stirring her coffee. But he was glad Francine had asked. He'd been wondering the same thing. Charlie hadn't mentioned her classes in a while. Was she planning to teach again this fall or take a quarter off while she worked on new commissions? The last thing he wanted was for her to wear herself down.
"I've been so busy with the chariot and horses that I haven't really had time to think much about my teaching schedule."
