Page 18 of Red, White, and BearCat Blue

“Hello.”

It made me sad to hear her short, clipped greetings. Before the illness, she’d always been bubbly, speaking a mile a minute as she cooked or cleaned or sat in the living room with me as we ate ice cream watching her favorite, the Great British Baking Show. She attempted the recipes the contestants made, laughing as she set a lopsided cake on the table. It tasted amazing, though. Her attempt at bread had been laughable when it didn’t rise because she forgot to add the yeast. We’d laughed about that until tears ran down her sweet face. I got a lump in my throat as I watched her interact with Mars and Mickey. My heart hurt for what was happening to her.

The music at the front of the room suddenly shut off, and I turned to see Mrs. Moss wiping her forehead with a towel as the patients began rolling their wheelchairs over to the rack for the barbells. I glanced back at my mom. “Your class is finished.”

“Oh.” She turned to look at Mrs. Moss before looking back at me.

I cleared my throat. “I brought you something, Mom.” I reached into the plastic bag and dug out the Orioles cap, yanking off the price tag before squatting down beside her. I held it out to show her. For a second—just a split second—a flare of recognition lit her eyes. “The Orioles are our favorite baseball team, Mom,” I said, hopefully. “We used to watch games together.”

She took the cap from me, turning it over and over in her hands before she looked up. When she reached out and cupped my cheek the way she used to, I felt tears burning behind my eyes. I was deciding whether it was recognition in her expression when she suddenly dropped her hand. “This is a nice gift. Thank you.”

I nodded, swallowing back my tears and clearing my throat to get rid of the lump. “You’re welcome, Mom.” I reached for the cap. “Here, let me adjust it.” She handed it back, and I made the adjustments before leaning close and slipping it onto her head. The blank expression that stared back from her confused eyes, almost did me in.

She suddenly smiled and reached for my hand. “Thank you so much.”

I took her slender fingers in both hands, noticing the light scent of Coco Chanel, her favorite perfume, as I leaned in and bussed the side of her cheek. “Love you, Mom.” I leaned back, searching her eyes for recognition. When none came, I cleared my throat again. “Will you let me walk you back to your room?”

“Oh.” She stood on shaky legs as I took her hand, sliding her arm into the crook of my elbow. “Thank you.”

We turned and walked slowly out of the gazebo, down the path toward the back of the building. As we did, I struggled to hold back tears. Crying in front of her would only freak her out.

I was freaking out enough for both of us.

Chapter Five

MARS

Seeing Cam with his mum was eye-opening to say the very least. I was struck by the fact that he’d been totally honest with both Mickey and me about everything today. I was rarely surprised by people. There had always been basically two types of people in my mind, and I’d lived by the certainty all these years that I was right about it.

There were good guys like me, my teammates, and little old ladies with Alzheimer’s, and there were bad guys like that tosser, Ranger. Cam, was definitely a good guy…anyone who could love and care for his mum the way he did, was a really good guy, but I had to remind myself he was also a thief. Even though he stole for a very important reason, that didn’t make him any less of a thief.

One thing, though…there were degrees to everything in life. His “badness” barely counted as bad at all. He wasn’t the kind of thief who went about committing violence on the people they stole from. Instead, he took things that no one would want—could want—considering they had no idea they were missing when he stole them. As I drove out of the car park, I wondered what other crimes he’d committed. He’d insisted he wasn’t a hustler and I believed him because if he was, I think he would’ve come on to one or both Mickey and me by now. Instead, he’d insisted he didn’t trick for money, sounding almost horrified that I’d even considered the idea.

“The place I’m staying is just up ahead.”

After making sure Cam’s mum was tucked away safely in bed for her afternoon nap, we’d headed back out to the Camaro, and I’d pulled out onto the street with no particular destination in mind. Actually, though, I was feeling hungry, lunch sounded like a smashing plan, and a cuppa wouldn’t go amiss.

I shook myself, looking at Cam in the rearview mirror. “Sorry?”

He pointed out the windscreen. “That’s my building.”

I followed his line of sight to the apartment complex coming up on the right. “Ya want us to drop ya off?”

“If you could…yeah.”

I glanced over at Mickey. He gave me an almost imperceptible nod, so I turned into the car park pulling into a guest parking spot. I didn’t shut off the engine but turned in my seat to look at Cam as a thought suddenly popped into my head. I’d been thinking about it when I’d first seen him in the backseat of the Nissan, but after seeing him with his mum and deciding he was a decent bloke, I’d dismissed the thought. Now, I suddenly had to know.

“’Ow did ya get into all those vehicles ya stole from today? The window wedge will work on some of them, but not all. You’d ‘ave to know ‘ow to bypass some sophisticated alarms on the newer models.”

Mickey looked back at him too. Cam squirmed in his seat, darting a glance out the side window before staring back with wide eyes. He looked like a scared rabbit…like he had the sudden urge to flee.

“W-why do you ask?” he stuttered.

I shrugged. “Because I know a good car thief when I see one, Cam.”

“Are you a car thief?” Mickey asked. The growl in his voice was really intimidating.

He stared at my friend for a few seconds before looking away again. When he shrugged, everything became very clear. “Tell us,” I said. “We’re not gonna arrest ya, if that’s what ya think. Just be ‘onest. I think ya owe us that.”