Reckless In Love (The Maverick Billionaires #2)(26)
He touched her cheek, sending sparks of electricity through her. “You create amazing art. And she created you, so I’d like to meet her.”
Lord, he was sweet. So sweet that she felt churlish for saying no, especially when, besides Charlie, her mother didn’t get any visitors. Francine Ballard would love to meet Sebastian, a man who would treat her like royalty, give her his whole focus, make her smile.
So despite all the inadequacies shrieking inside her, Charlie said the only thing she could. “She’d like that a lot.”
When he smiled his appreciation, then left her to do her work alone, she actually had to bite her lip to stop herself from begging him to stay.
* * *
“What beautiful flowers.” Francine Ballard bent her head to inhale the fragrance of the blooms Sebastian brought her. “Thank you so much.”
Charlie’s mother was a tiny thing, her back bent and her fingers crooked, but she had a smile that lit her face. With her curved lips and sparkling eyes, he saw Charlie in her.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Ballard,” he said formally. “I’m Sebastian Montgomery.”
Resting on the seat of her wheeled walker in the nursing home’s lobby when they entered, she’d risen at the sight of Charlie, keeping steady with a grip on both handles. “Sebastian, please call me Francine. Let’s put my flowers in the lounge so everyone can enjoy them. I’ll lead the way.”
She signaled her departure, turning the walker and heading past the nurse’s station at a slow and steady pace. Despite the pain she must feel with each step, she didn’t give up. He admired her tenacity.
“Looking sharp, Albert,” she sang out as she cruised past an old man with cataracts that practically obscured his irises. Albert raised his hand in greeting, and Charlie patted his knee as she passed, drawing a smile from him.
Shady Lane was more like a hospital than a home. The floors were plain linoleum, the primary lighting fluorescent, and the chairs populating the lobby and halls resembled those in a doctor’s office. The pictures lining the hallway walls had probably been purchased in bulk. Open doorways revealed two beds to a room with only a privacy curtain separating them. TVs were mounted in either corner, competing volumes screeching out into the hallway. Windows in the rooms were small, most with blinds closed. They passed a comatose woman in a bed, her mouth sagging, her curtain open as the nurse adjusted something on her monitor.
He hated himself for thinking it, but this wasn’t a home. It was a place people came to die. He understood now why Charlie had stared at the check he’d written as if it were a lifeline. That money would change her mother’s life. He wished he’d written double the amount, but he knew Charlie would never have taken it.
“Did you do your walk already today, Mom?” Charlie asked, leaning in close enough to Sebastian to give his heart a kick with her sweet scent.
“Three rounds. One more to go.” Francine pointed to the pink bakery box in Charlie’s hand, eyes twinkling. “I want to hear all about the sculpture you have planned for Sebastian’s building, so let’s have tea first.”
She parked her walker by the open lounge doors, then moved from chair to chair, holding the back of each one, until she slid onto the cushions of the sofa. At least here, the furniture appeared more comfortable. A larger TV than those in the rooms sat against the wall at the opposite end, surrounded by a grouping of chairs.
“Sorry, Mom, I forgot the china cups and plates,” Charlie said as she headed to the coffee service on a long bar against the far wall.
“I’ll survive,” her mother answered sweetly. When Sebastian set down the vase in the middle of the table, she said, “Lovely—now sit.” She patted the sofa beside her, then winced.
“Are you all right?” The sudden pain on her face stole his breath away.
“My hand is simply acting up.” She rubbed the center of her palm as best she could with her crooked fingers. “Now tell me all about this marvelous building of yours.”
He was still reeling from the pain he’d seen shoot through her, but she was already past it. Amazing. “Charlie’s pieces will bring the place to life.”
“I hear you have a fountain. And lots of glass to let in the sunlight.”
She didn’t look longingly toward the window that faced the parking lot, but he knew she needed a garden. Flowers. Sunshine. Charlie would use every penny of her commission to provide those things for her mother.
“Here’s your tea, Mom. Sorry about the paper cups.” She set down a cup filled with milky liquid in front of her mother and another for Sebastian, the coffee black and steaming.
He smiled his thanks while Francine said, “Don’t worry about the china, dear. This is just wonderful.” Then she whispered to him as Charlie returned to the coffee bar for her own cup, “She’s so good to me. I don’t know what I’d do without her. Most people don’t receive any visitors at all, but Charlie comes at least twice a week, often more.”
He thought of all the lonely people in nursing homes, their final years spent in a bed without a single visitor, a curtain providing their only privacy. It made him appreciate Charlie even more. She wasn’t merely a talented artist and a dedicated teacher. She was also a loving daughter.
She carried another cup, plus three paper plates balanced along her arm as easily as if she’d been a waitress in a past life. “I could have gotten that,” he said, getting up to take one of the plates.