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“I know.” Where was Teri? “Mamá, sing with me.” She grasped for a song, any song. “Let’s sing ‘A Dormir va la rosa.’ You always sang me to sleep with it.”
Carolina inhaled. “‘A dormir va la rosa de los rosales…’”
Her mother joined in, her alto blending with Carolina’s soprano.
“‘Y a dormir va mi niño porque ya es tarde.
Este niño chiquito no tiene cuna.
Su padre es carpintero le va a hacer una.’”
Teri stopped in the doorway. Her mouth dropped open.
Mamá closed her eyes and sang. The picking stopped.
When they finished, Teri clapped. “You have beautiful voices. What can I do for you?”
“She was picking at her clothes,” Carolina said.
Confusion muddied Mamá’s face. “I… I what?”
“Sometimes before a seizure, you pick at your clothes.” Teri checked the IV and the monitor. “It seems singing can help. I wish the whole hospital could hear you.”
“I used to sing.” Mamá settled back into the pillows. “My daughter will be singing at the Fitzgerald House restaurant.”
“Well, you both sound incredible.” Teri made notes. “I think the crisis has been averted.”
For now.
“I’m tired.” Her mother closed her eyes. “Don’t forget what you promised.”
Carolina sank into her chair. Why did her mother do this to her?
She had to come up with a solution that would keep her mother stress-free and wouldn’t involve stealing.
* * *
AT THE BAR that night, Carolina pulled another beer for a customer. She still hadn’t come up with a solution that would keep her mother calm and didn’t involve stealing from the woman she was coming to admire.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asked her customer.
“How about a date?” The man looked old enough to be her grandfather.
“I couldn’t handle you,” she teased. But she moved down the counter in case he wasn’t kidding. Yuck.
“Barkeep, got something to quench my thirst?” Sage slid onto a barstool.
His voice did yummy things to her body. She leaned over. “Do you want ginger ale or a beer?”
“One of the seasonals.” Their lips touched and her stress slipped away. “How’s your mother? Any better?”
Her shoulders sagged. She wanted to ask Sage’s advice—but hello. As an FBI agent, he wouldn’t understand her mother asking for things from Fitzgerald House. “Mamá was so upset, I thought she would have another seizure.”
“But she didn’t?”
“No, thank goodness.” She headed to the taps and pulled his beer.
“What was she upset about?” His green eyes held so much sympathy. Would it still be there if he knew her mother wanted her to steal from the Fitzgeralds?
“She wants to go home.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth. Carolina shifted on her feet. “I started singing and that helped.”
He frowned. “She has her first radiation treatment tomorrow, right?”
“Yes.” She bit her lip. “But only if she doesn’t have another seizure.”
“I can sit with you if you want,” he volunteered.
“You’d be bored.”
His voice grew deep and low. “I’m never bored with you.”
Everything inside her melted. “I would love it if you could come, but you don’t have to stay.”
A woman held up her empty glass. Carolina nodded and pushed away from the counter. She had a job to do. She mixed the woman a Southern Comforts Tea, Abby’s version of a Long Island Iced Tea. And took the woman’s twenty-dollar bill.
Naomi was at the cash register, so Carolina waited to make change. Naomi’s black T-shirt had Fitzgerald House printed on the back.
Carolina asked, “Are we getting more shirts?”
“I picked this up in the gift shop. Abby said it was okay to wear.” Naomi glanced at her shirt and whispered, “It shows off my ladies more and ups my tips.”
Carolina chuckled as she made change for the twenty. “I didn’t know there was a gift shop.”
“It’s in Fitzgerald House across from the registration desk,” Naomi said. “Abby has recipes you can buy and, of course, Fitzgerald paraphernalia.”
The coins in Carolina’s hands slipped to the floor. She knelt and scooped them up. This might be the answer. Trying to be as casual as possible, she asked, “What kind of things do they sell?”
“You know, postcards, soap, T-shirts, the robes they stock in the rooms. I want one of those. Mugs and glasses. Stuff like that.”
