Page 120 of One Night with Number Nineteen

“Nah,” I say quickly. “I’ll handle her.”

“Then I’ll ask you one more thing,” she says softly. “Check your email. I…well, I sent you over some resources that might help.”

“Roger that,” I say quickly, hanging up and grabbing the smoothie from the kid in the window.

I nod my thanks then I finish the drive to my mom’s place.

Only before I go inside, I check my email.

“What the fuck?” I whisper as I scroll through the attachments for senior living facilities, others for live-in nurses, more for therapists who can help with anxiety and family dynamics.

SAWYER: What the fuck is this?

ALLY: Nothing.

ALLY: Unless you decide you finally need a fucking lifeline.

SAWYER: You have no right to delve into my personal life.

ALLY: No, I don’t. And I’m doing it, anyway.

ALLY: I won’t let you fucking drown, Sawyer.

SAWYER: I won’t. I’ve got this.

ALLY: Maybe.

ALLY: Maybe not.

Movement catches my attention and I look up, see my mom standing in the opening of her front door, her hands on her hips.

“Fuck,” I whisper, shoving my phone into my pocket and snagging the smoothie.

“There you are,” she says accusingly the moment I make it up the walk.

“Here’s your smoothie.” I hand it over then check my watch. “I have an hour before I have to head to the rink. What do you need?”

Her brow furrows. “Why would I need something?”

I freeze on the threshold.

Then turn to her. “Are you kidding me?”

“Why are you mad at me?” Her bottom lip wobbles, much like Ollie’s had earlier when stuffed Ollie went missing.

I bite back a sigh, step inside. “I’m not mad, Mom.”

“You sure seem like it.”

“Is it a lightbulb out or is your sink draining slow? Maybe the laundry room door is squeaking again?”

Some scent hits my nose as I walk down the hall, something spicy…like cinnamon?

“None of that is happening, sweetheart. You’ve got everything all fixed up perfectly.”

“I don’t understand,” I say. “Then why have you been calling so much? Why have you been calling Ally?”

A flicker of hurt slides across her face. “I haven’t seen much of you lately, is all.”