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There were none around.
So she searched for waitressing and bartending jobs. And found a few. Only a couple on Tybee, everything else was in Savannah.
She opened job postings. There was one for a part-time bartender. At Southern Comforts, a new restaurant. Perfect. She clicked it open and read the listing. “Weekend hours. Possibility for more. Savannah.”
She winced, hating to leave her mother for that long. She scrolled to the bottom. “Apply at Fitzgerald House with Abby Fitzgerald.”
She shivered, suddenly freezing. Fitzgeralds. Her father’s real family. The ones who’d ruined her mother’s life. Her half sisters.
“What are you doing?” Rosa peered over her shoulder.
“I didn’t hear you wake. Are you hungry?” Carolina tried to close the screen.
Mamá held out her hand. “What are you doing looking at that family’s website?”
“I was looking for part-time work.” Trying to figure out how to pay off Mamá’s debts.
“Not with those bitches.” Mamá pointed a finger at the screen. “Work for anyone but them.”
Carolina patted her mother’s hand. “I know.”
Rosa sank into the dining room chair, holding her head. “Could you make me some tea?”
“Sure.”
Carolina would apply for the waitress and bartending positions listed on Tybee Island. She pulled out the tea a nurse recommended for Mamá’s headaches, making two mugs. She’d had a headache since she’d added up Mamá’s bills.
“Shall we take this to the porch?” she asked.
Her mother stared at the job posting on Carolina’s laptop, her nails clicking against the wooden table. “Maybe. Maybe.”
Carolina headed to the porch, wishing she’d shut the computer before she’d fixed her mother’s tea. Even talking about the Fitzgeralds made her mother rant.
“I was thinking we could have fish tacos tonight.” Carolina pushed open the door.
Her mother stared at the screen.
“Mamá?”
Her mother’s head jerked. “What?”
“I thought we’d have our tea out on the porch.”
Her mother’s eyes didn’t focus as she walked outside. She sat in a chair and Carolina took the rocker.
“I think you should do it,” Mamá blurted out.
“Do what?”
“Apply for the job with the bitches.”
Carolina choked on her tea. “I don’t want to meet them.”
Her half sisters wallowed in wealth while she and Mamá struggled to survive.
Her mother’s dark eyebrows came together. “I want to know what they’re up to. I want you to see the birthright they kept from you.”
Carolina clenched her fists. “I don’t.”
Her mother bounced out of her chair. “You could be a…a spy.”
Was this her mother’s obsession with the Fitzgeralds talking or her brain tumors? Every muscle in Carolina’s body tensed. “I don’t want to spy.”
“It would be for me. For your mother.” She clasped her hands against her chest and swayed. “For all the things I couldn’t give you. You deserve this. We deserve this.”
“Mamá, sit.” Carolina eased her back into a chair. “I need a job closer to home.”
Maybe if Carolina never brought up the job again, her mother would forget.
Please let Mamá forget.
* * *
“MOM, I’LL BE all right.” Sage said for the tenth time that morning. He sat at the kitchen table and sipped his coffee. He sure would miss Mom’s coffee, but he hated having her hover.
“You’re still as rocky on your feet as a newborn calf.” She brushed back his hair. “I wish Jackson could have stayed longer.”
Sage didn’t. Jax had stayed for three days, his presence a constant reminder Sage had screwed up. Not that Jax or Mom ever said anything. It was their looks of concern and disappointment. He’d failed to live up to the Cornell image. Honor before everything. “Jackson had to get back to saving lives.”
Mom crossed her arms, staring down at him. “Your head still aches.”
“I’ll handle it. You’ve been here a week. Go home to the ranch.” He wanted quiet. He hadn’t had true peace since he’d awakened in the hospital.
He liked people, he really did, but he needed space. And he wanted to get back to work. “I’m okay. Besides, the ranch needs you.”
“Uncle Dale is running the ranch.” His mother frowned.
“He’s almost eighty.”
“And sharp as a tack.” She pointed a finger at him. “Managing the ranch makes him feel useful.”
