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Carolina kissed her cheek. Was it possible that her skin had gotten thinner overnight? “I told you I would be here before lunch. Did they use the cream rinse I brought you?”
“How would I know?” Her mother’s mouth pursed. “It doesn’t itch as much anymore.”
“Good.” Carolina slid the chair to the side of the bed. “Are you ready for your treatment today?”
“I had it. They changed the schedule. I like it better in the afternoon. You weren’t there. I like knowing you’re in the waiting room for me. Instead, they had to wake me.” Her mother’s words spun out of her mouth. It was like her mother was having a manic episode.
“I’m sorry.” She took her mother’s hand but Mamá shook her off. “I would have tried to get here if I’d known they were going to reschedule it.”
“But you didn’t.” Her mother peered around. “And you didn’t bring me anything.”
“I haven’t had a chance.” And she’d run out of gift shop items. She needed to buy more soon.
“You never make time for me.”
“I’m here every day.” She hated the bite in her voice.
“But are you thinking of me or that young man who comes with you? What’s his name? Parsley?”
“It’s Sage.” She hoped her mother was making a joke and not losing her mind.
“Right.” Her mother tapped her finger. “He’s handsome, at least. Keep that one around. If you get pregnant, he’ll take care of you.”
Oh, Lord. “I’m not going to get pregnant.”
Mamá’s cheeks flushed bright red. Too bright. “He’s not married, is he?”
“No!”
“Make sure. Don’t get pregnant, unless he’s divorced. Don’t make my mistake. And make sure he has the money and not his wife.”
This was ugly. Had her mother actually tried to get pregnant? She wanted to cover her ears and hum. Her mother couldn’t have been that underhanded—could she?
“He’s not married,” Carolina whispered.
“Good. Is he rich?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does.” Mamá pointed at her. “If you’re going to spend time with a man, at least make sure he has the wherewithal to keep you in style.”
Carolina shifted. Had her mother always thought like this or was this the tumors talking? “I’m hoping you’ll be well enough to come see me sing.”
“I want to leave. I want to go home.” Her mother picked at her covers.
Please no more seizures. Her mother hadn’t had one since before she’d started her radiation treatments. “Mamá, how do you feel?”
“Fine.” She stopped plucking. “Where are you singing again?”
“A new restaurant.” If her mother couldn’t remember she was singing for one of the Fitzgeralds, she wasn’t going to bring up the name.
“Right. Right.” Her mother sat back, her arm waving as if she heard music. “I loved singing in clubs. Handsome men always flirted with me. I looked good back then.”
“You’re still beautiful.” She’d always been gorgeous.
“I would pick out the best-looking man in the room and sing to him.” Mamá swayed. “That’s how I snared your father. He came to see me sing as often as he could. I let him kiss me.”
Oh, God. Mamá was talking about trapping men. Carolina’s heart should be full with Sage’s love, but it was breaking. Year after year Mamá had proclaimed her father was her only love. Could love have grown from something so…calculating?
“I’m going to help the restaurant owner buy a piano for the restaurant,” Carolina said. “What should I recommend?”
The question kept her mother from slipping into past. They discussed the best pianos to ensure Carolina’s voice would be heard.
“I always loved singing with a grand piano.” Her mother closed her eyes and her voice slowed. “Maybe you can find that red-sequined dress I used to wear. It was perfect against a black piano. Make sure they get you a spotlight.”
“I remember that dress. It was stunning.” She would look for the dress next time she went to Tybee. “Maybe you can wear it to my opening.”
Her mother’s eyes stayed shut. Carolina slid back in the chair and watched her mother sleep.
Weight crushed her chest. She didn’t want to remember her mother lying in a hospital bed. She wanted to remember her mother dancing in the sunlight on the beach or watching her dress for the evening. Her mother would dust powder on Carolina’s face and tell her how beautiful she would be when she grew up. She wanted to remember the bright laugh when her father would come to the door carrying a bundle of flowers.
