Accidental Tryst (Charleston #1)(15)

"Wow," I deadpanned. "Talk about dinner theater!"

"Right? I wish you could see it. Maybe you'll stay for dinner." David looked at me, and like a curtain slowly being peeled open to reveal the day, his gaze sharpened, and he came back. "Emmy! It's so great to see you. Why didn't you say something. Always sneaking in like this, trying to surprise an old man." He grinned.

"Hey, David." I stood and walked over to him so I could lean down and give him a hug. I squeezed his bony shoulders and pressed my cheek to his papery one. "Great to see you too."

"Well, you're a sight for sore eyes. Look at you. Your new fella must be treating you well. When can I meet him?"

"Wait, what?"

"Now, now, Emmy. You don't need to be shy. I'm happy for you."

I swallowed thickly. I'd really been hoping we could talk properly today, but now I was starring in his elaborate made-up world. Goodness knew what would come out next.

I peered closely at him.

"What?" he asked.

I only saw his keen intelligence and mischief dancing behind his eyes. No confusion.

"Nothing. You missed a spot shaving, by the way," I redirected our topic.

"Did not."

I shrugged. "Did too."

He rubbed a hand over his jaw, and I felt a twinge of guilt.

I knew full well it was D'Andre who shaved him. The facility didn't allow anyone scissors, razors, or even nail clippers after Mrs. McClatchkey nipped her husband repeatedly on the arm with hers.

"So how's my little shoebox in the Village?"

I took a breath, bracing myself for telling him the same news again for the first time. "You remember we had to sell it, right?” Eight years ago when our whole world fell apart.

"We did?" His eyebrows dropped down heavily. “Maybe I remember that.”

"And you live here now.”

“And where are you living?”

"Charleston, South Carolina. Where I went to college? Remember how much you loved the history and the restaurants when you came to visit?"

"So you're not living in New York? No wonder I haven't seen you. Why didn't you tell me?" The hurt was unmistakable.

I reached for his bony hand and squeezed. It was cool to the touch. In the past, I'd remind him his memory wasn't working right, but sometimes that just angered him. Of course guilt still choked me because he was right. I hadn't been up to see him enough. There simply wasn't much I could do about it. "I come as often as I can. You know that."

David looked away toward the window, giving me the silent treatment.

I waited. I thought of changing the subject again, but I simply couldn't think of what else to talk about.

"I always wanted you to find love, but now I feel jealous of this new fella who's taking up all your time."

I let out a surprised snort of laughter. "I don't have a fellow, David."

He looked at me. "Why would you hide it from me? If you moved away to be with a fella—"

"I'm not hiding anything." I frowned.

"Well, then who's this Trystan man answering your phone?"

I froze.

"Knock, knock." The voice came from the doorway.

I dragged my eyes away from David and looked up to see D'Andre at the door.

"The administrator needs to see you in the business office, if you have a moment," D'Andre said.

I stood, rubbing my hands down my skirt. "Sure."



* * *



"Miss Dubois." The administrator greeted me and held out her hand. "Penny Smith, I'm the one you speak to on the phone."

"Oh, right." I shook her hand. "It's great to put a face with a voice."

"Likewise. I appreciate you coming during the week when I have regular office hours."

"I'm glad I could make it. Normally it's impossible for me to take time off work during the week, but I finally have some vacation time."

"And you spent it coming to see David. He's your uncle?" She motioned for me to take a seat in the worn chair in front of a desk covered with piles of paperwork.

"Um. Yes. Well, a foster uncle. My late foster mother's brother. It's complicated."

"Well, in my experience real family hasn't much to do with blood ties. He's lucky to have you. Looks like you fostered each other. Does he have any other family?"

"Neither of us do. I . . . I think this is in his medical file, isn't it?"

"We have a lot of patients, and I wanted to hear it from you."

I cleared my throat. "So you needed to see me for something specific?"

Penny sighed and shifted uncomfortably, her eyes flicking down to a folder in front of her. "Well, yes. So, I'm sure you've noticed his dementia is getting worse. We are getting close to a point where we won't have the resources to give him what he needs at this facility. How is it going with finding a facility closer to you in South Carolina?"

I clasped my hands together on my lap, squeezing my fingers together. "Not well. I've looked into all the places I know who have Alzheimer's care, and we're . . . well, we're waiting. I'm waiting. There's a waiting list that may take over a year."