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And to think, only a few weeks ago, I was cursing the night we met. But now? I’m thanking my lucky stars she waltzed into my life when she did.
“Are you ready?” Mia asks, purse tucked under her arm and hand resting on the strap.
Heaving a deep sigh, I sneak another peek at my mother. She’s on the couch with a book spread open on her lap. Kate, a caregiver who specializes in memory care, sits beside her, engaging her in quiet conversation. Kate gives me a slight wave, encouraging me to leave.
Mia found her through extensive online searches and reference checks this week. Despite all the other priorities she’s juggling, she made it her mission to provide Gloria and me with a night of guilt-free respite.
After narrowing it down to the top three, Mia followed it up with phone interviews. After we discussed the candidates, we asked Kate to stop by last night for an in-person meeting. Turns out, she recently moved to the area and hasn’t found a permanent placement yet. She’s been working as a floater for a temp service and comes with glowing recommendations from the agency and her prior employers.
Since you can never be too careful with your loved ones, we thought it’d be wise to get a feel for how she and Ma got along. We paid her for a few hours last night while we listened from the other room, checking in periodically to ensure all was well.
It went better than expected, so I agreed to dinner with our friends tonight.
But I’m having second thoughts.
And it’s not because of safety. Thankfully, there’s been nothing to indicate Lenkov is targeting us. No retribution. No threats or close calls. And nothing else from whoever broke into Mia’s place. We have our guards up, but it’s been calm. So a few of us having dinner out doesn’t seem risky.
My hesitation to go is only out of fear of what might happen with my mother.
“Cal, come on,” Mia encourages, squeezing my hand.
My gaze flits from her to the sofa. “Hang on.”
Mia tips her head, understanding reflected in her expression.
Releasing her hand, I dash over and squat in front of my mother. “Ma, do you remember where I’m going and when I’ll be back?”
The laugh lines around her mouth deepen. “Of course I do. Don’t be silly. Have fun.”
That doesn’t answer my questions, but she seems comfortable with Kate. No signs of agitation.
“Okay, Mia and I will be home in about two hours. Three tops. You and Kate will be fine. She’ll help you get to bed when you get tired, the same as last night. And I’ll have my phone, so call me if you need anything.”
“Mr. Klein, there’s nothing to worry about,” Kate interjects in a calming voice. “We’ll be fine. You go and have a nice time. I promise Charlotte and I have everything under control.” She looks at my mom. “Right, Charlotte?”
My mother nods and smiles warmly at me. She’s doing okay tonight. Not too bad, but not fantastic either. Somewhere in the middle.
It probably helped that Mia and I were off today since it’s the weekend. Aside from her continued FBI hacking attempts, Mia and I enjoyed a relaxing day with Ma. This morning, Mia had a front-row seat to a pie-baking lesson. Not really a lesson, so much as an excuse for me to elevate Mia’s dessert tastes.
She said she’d try my pie if I ate her cake. And yeah, it was as innuendo-filled as it sounds. Tomorrow, she’ll show me her Hummingbird cake recipe. And on the third day, we’ll all have diabetes.
I glance at Kate and offer a tight-lipped grin. “I’ll call in a bit to check in with you. And you know where the panic buttons are, right?”
Her eyes warm with an air of sympathetic understanding. “That’s not necessary, but if it makes you feel better, go right ahead and call me. And I have never had to use a panic button, and I don’t plan on using one tonight.”
A few minutes later, I triple-check the SUV for GPS trackers or tampering, and Mia and I load up. We’ll only be a few minutes late to meet the others at Crabby’s at the Pass— a seafood restaurant with outdoor seating overlooking Johns Pass Marina. The weather is perfect for it.
Once I’m behind the wheel with the ignition started, Mia grips my forearm. “You okay, Cal?”
There’s no judgment or condemnation in her words.
For a moment, I’m smacked with an unpleasant memory of Jenna serving me a double-decker guilt sandwich for canceling plans last minute. It wasn’t long after my mom was diagnosed, and she was upset. I asked Jenna to join me at Ma’s for dinner and cards instead of our planned date. She flipped out, ended up going out with a friend instead, and didn’t talk to me for three days.
Should have known then it wasn’t meant to be.
Shaking off the twinge of negativity, I school my features and focus on the woman before me.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just a little worried about her. But it’s not all that different from leaving her with Gloria for work, right? It’ll be fine. Yeah. No problem. I’m fine. Everything is good. No worries.”
