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“But Brad came by.”
I stopped myself from jolting. I didn’t want to upset her. She’d never mentioned my father since his death months ago. “Did he?”
“Yes, he did. It was nice to see him. He’s at camp with the boys most of the time. Such a good father.”
I had a few bones to pick with that one, but I didn’t voice them. Brad Steel hadn’t been the ultimate father, though he had stuck around until I turned eighteen. He’d kept secrets from us, though. Major secrets, not the least of which was that he and our mother were both alive. He’d also kept Talon from getting the help he needed after his abduction.
I could never forgive my father. But my mother? Her insanity was not her fault. She’d been driven to it by my father and his actions.
“When did Father come by?” I asked.
“It was just yesterday, I think. He looks different.”
“How?”
“His hair has gone gray, mostly. But you know, he’s getting older. We all are.” She smiled and then cocked her head to the side.
Looking at my mother was like seeing myself in thirty-plus years. I was the only child who resembled her. Joe and Talon both looked more like our father, and of course Ryan had no genetic relation to her.
My mother spoke again. “He seemed shorter too. But you know, we shrink as we age, right?”
“How much shorter?”
“I don’t know. I could look him right in the eye.”
Odd. My father was at least six inches taller than my mother. I definitely had some questions, but I didn’t want to confuse her.
“Are you sure it was Dad?”
“Of course. Who else would it be?”
Who else indeed? I’d ask the nurse on duty later. “Would you like me to read to you?”
Reading was often how we passed our time. She lived in her own little world, so she didn’t understand anything I told her about Joe, Talon, and me or what was actually going on in our lives. She didn’t know they’d gotten married and were both expecting children.
“That would be nice,” she said. “Let’s read Austen today.”
My mother loved Jane Austen and Charles Dickens. We’d already gotten through Emma and Great Expectations. Now we were working on Oliver Twist and Pride and Prejudice. Funny how she always remembered which book we were reading.
I picked the book up off her table, sat down, and opened it.
Before I could begin, though, a nurse came in. “Time for your medication, Mrs. Steel.”
“Could it wait? This lovely lady was just about to read to me, and the pills make me so sleepy.”
“I suppose I can give you another fifteen minutes.” The nurse smiled.
“Wait,” I said. “Could I speak to you for a moment?” I nodded toward the hallway.
“Of course, Ms. Steel.”
“Excuse me, Mother. I’ll be right back.” I followed the nurse into the hallway.
“Did a man come to see my mother yesterday?” I asked her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t work yesterday. But you can check the visitors’ log when you leave.”
“Perfect. Thanks.” I would do exactly that.
