Page 46 of Jameson’s Salvation

She’d worked every fundraiser Kent County had, from the fire company’s to the elementary school. If someone was trying to raise money, my mom had her hand in it and worked herself to the bone. It was her way of repaying her community for the support they’d shown when her husband was murdered.

She obsessively worried about the hospital downsizing, the elementary schools in the area closing, about a bridge that was proposed that would bring traffic from the western shore. Anything and everything she could worry about she did. Since her stroke she’d been curtailed, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t trying her best to get back to a hundred percent so she could go full-steam ahead.

The last thing my mother needed was to be worried about me. And thankfully this bridge business had her mind occupied to capacity.

“Hey, Mama,” I called out.

“In the kitchen.”

I walked through her living room, glancing around as I went. It was as tidy as it always was. She hadn’t changed a thing since she’d bought the old Victorian. The three-bedroom house had been built around the same time our old farmhouse was, but the previous owners of this one had gone to great pains to keep everything original except for the kitchen. That had been upgraded and was fabulous. Though I thought the dark mahogany floors and ornate woodwork throughout the house was fabulous, too, I could’ve gone without the flower wallpaper. But my mom loved it. She said it added charm.

“It’s hotter than Hades in here, Mama.”

“Humid, too. Janice is going to have to take me to get my hair washed and set a second time this week.”

I glanced at my mother’s hair and it was perfect just like it always was. She’d taken to the beauty salon to get her hair washed and straightened after she declared I didn’t know how to do it correctly. I hadn’t known there was a specific way to straighten hair seeing as mine was bone-straight, something I’d thankfully inherited from my father.

“I’m sure Miss Janice won’t mind, she loves to go in and gossip with all the old biddies.”

“You know that’s rude,” she chastised. “I’m no spring chicken so you’re talking about me.”

“Mama, those women in the salon have twenty years on you yet. How long’s your air conditioner been broken?”

“Three days.”

“Three days? Mom, it’s damn near a hundred degrees outside and it was hotter yesterday. Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“Because I knew you’d be getting everything ready for the market. It’s the busiest time of the year for you and I was going to tough it out. But it got too darn hot today.”

I sighed and hated that my mom had been sitting here in the heat because she didn’t want to bother me. Then I remembered—had I not been so caught up with Jameson I would’ve come by to check on her and she wouldn’t have had to call me. I was in the middle of mentally berating myself when I remembered Jameson was on his way over.

Shit.

“Mom, listen, a friend of mine is going to come by and help me take a look at your AC. Before he—”

“He?” Mom cut me off.

“Yes, Mother, he. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. He’s just a good friend.”

“How good of a friend?”

Damn, my mom didn’t miss much.

“A good one. Can we please leave it at that? And don’t say anything that will embarrass me.”

“Embarrass you?”

My mom’s face fell and I wanted to kick myself in the ass. Since her stroke she’d been self-conscious of everything.

“You know what I mean, Ma. Don’t tell him any embarrassing stories about me when I was a kid.”

“You never did anything embarrassing. You were a perfectly well-mannered child.”

Except I wasn’t.

“Right. Then I have nothing to worry about then.”

I smiled sweetly at my mom and she gave me an over-exaggerated eyeroll.