When It Falls Apart (The D'Angelos, #1)(23)

“I know you’re doing what you have to.”

At least he said that. “I am.”

When they pulled into the parking lot of his new home, Brooke wrangled the wheelchair out of the trunk.

One of the intake administrators was there, along with a front desk staff member who welcomed her father.

Joe turned on his charm, happy to smile at the younger, pretty women.

The main hall of the home was spacious with plenty of places for people to sit. Double doors spilled into a massive dining room that was currently empty. Glass doors opened into a central courtyard that housed a water fountain and gardens.

The current residents eagerly looked at the new resident and waved and called out a greeting.

Her father had always been social, and Brooke couldn’t help but think he’d thrive in a place like this if he gave it half a chance.

A ride in the elevator got them to the second floor. She pointed out the route to his room as she wheeled him down the extensive hallway system.

Once inside, she closed the door behind them.

“Like I said, your couch wouldn’t fit, so I bought this one.”

Using his feet to move the chair, he moved farther into the small space and clasped his hands in his lap. “It’s nice.”

She’d hung his TV on the wall.

Family and friends were in framed photographs. Pictures of him dancing and snapshots of his working days were there as well. “I filled the closets with a lot of the clothes I found at the condo. I doubt you’ll want to keep much. If you get bored, go through them and bag those you want to give away to make room. There are still some things at the condo. If you think of anything you want or need, you’ll need to let me know in the next month.”

He pushed himself into the bedroom, poked his head into the bathroom. “This is going to be fine.”

She handed him a button to wear around his neck. “If you ever need help, all you have to do is press this and someone will come. They’ll come right away and check on you.”

Joe’s eyes were moving slower, his movements stilled. “It’s cold.”

Brooke jumped up and moved to the wall unit to turn the heat on high. “They do your laundry and clean the room. They will even make sure you’re taking your medication.”

“I can take my own medication.”

“Let’s see how this month goes. And if you’re improving, then great. Trust me, everything here is an extra cost. From them giving you a pill to making sure you shower. If you can do it on your own, great. But if you can’t, I’ve got you covered. I don’t want you worried about it.”

He yawned. “Okay.”

“They’ll bring your meals to you for the first few days. Then you can go downstairs.”

He forced a smile. “I’m going to be fine, Brooke.”

God, she hoped so.

This needed to work.

He yawned again. “Are you driving back tonight?”

“No. I’m staying the night and will drive back tomorrow, pick up a load.” And continue the cycle a couple times a week until she was completely moved in. Then once it was clear escrow was going to close, she’d do the last Goodwill haul and dump run and the condo would be a part of her past.

Thank God!

Her dad opened his arms. “Give me a hug and g-get out of here.”

“I’ll see you in a few days. If you need anything, call.”

“It looks like you thought of e-everything, honey. I’ll be fine.”

She walked over, bent down to the level of the chair, and hugged him. “I love you, Daddy.”

“Love you, too, b-baby. Thank you for this.”

Brooke retraced her steps through the home, stopped at the reception desk, and let them know that she’d be in San Diego overnight should they need her.

She climbed behind the wheel of the car and looked up at the home. “I’m doing the right thing,” she told herself.

She gripped the wheel, moved her head from side to side, and felt doubt creep in.

What other choice did she have? Someone was likely at his side right now helping him . . . cleaning him.

Brooke pulled out of the driveway with a knot in her throat.





CHAPTER EIGHT


Mrs. D’Angelo had shown Brooke her parking spot.

The reserved space was small and in the rear of the building sandwiched between a full-size SUV and a tiny Toyota that looked to be on its last legs.

Her first time in her new spot . . . her new home.

She had the key to the door to access her apartment from the back of the property. There also seemed to be a keypad for the automatic lock, but she wasn’t given that code. Which was fine. She could of course get in from the restaurant as well, but until the family and staff really knew her, she didn’t feel that was appropriate. And certainly not while she was moving boxes into her space.

Not that she had many.

Brooke stepped out of the car and moved around where there was more space to gather a box from the back seat.

“You can’t park there!”

She stopped short of grabbing a box, stood up straight.

“Mrs. D’Angelo said this was my sp—” Her gaze captured the man talking and took a full stop.

Luca stood, his white chef uniform in place, one hand on a hip and the other midair as he noticed her.