Page 24 of Reckless Love

“Oh, you know,” she says.

And I’ve come to understand exactly what that means. Today’s another not-great day in her battle with multiple sclerosis. Compared to other people, the doctor tells us that her MS is milder. Coupled with her general decline with age, nothing about the changes in our mother are mild to me or my sister. Watching her struggle to walk because she’s off balance or her daily complaints about the combination of numbness and pins and needles along her extremities is the opposite of the fierce, strong, stubborn woman who raised us.

“What can I get you?” I ask as I toe off my shoes and go into the living room.

She’s sitting in her spot on the L-shaped couch with the TV on. The long bungalow is separated into three connected “apartments.” There’s a lockable door between each, and they aren’t technically legal apartments by Bellerive’s standards. It doesn’t matter, since the separation is more for privacy than income. The last few years have been an avalanche of bad news for my family.

“The nurse was here,” she says. “Maybe go sit with your dad? They just put him to bed.”

“Did you get out of the house today?” I ask.

“Oh, yes,” my mother says. “The nurse took me for a walk in the wheelchair, and then she took your father. We get out every day. Don’t worry.”

But I do. All the time. As a kid, I knew I might eventually have to look after my parents, but it doesn’t change how jarring it feels when it’s actually happening. First, my mom’s MS diagnosis a few years ago, and then my dad’s car accident which left him with limited mobility. After my own accident, it seemed like the universe was trying to tell me I needed to get back to Bellerive.

And when I arrived and saw the state my sister was in, working herself to the bone with two jobs, having quit university, I realized how thoroughly I’d dropped the family ball. I’d been sending money, but it clearly hadn’t been enough.

While most sane people wouldn’t call almost dying a blessing, Owen’s guilt over my accident put my family in a much better financial position.

“I’ll go talk to Dad,” I say, ambling down the wide hallway to the room my dad sleeps in. With their separate issues, they each have a single bed in the same room. Even after all these years and the problems they’re facing, their love for each other is still just as strong.

Who wouldn’t want that? A love that can survive all this hardship.

I knock on the door, and my father calls for me to come in.

“How are you doing, Dad?” I ask, easing into the chair beside his hospital bed.

“Still waiting for grandchildren,” he says.

“Sorry to disappoint,” I say. “I think that’ll have to be Vanessa’s job. Zero baby mamas anywhere near me.”

“You’d have to work less to know that for sure.”

“Also unlikely to happen,” I say. We don’t discuss finances, but my parents must understand that constant nursing and meal prep aren’t cheap, especially not in Bellerive.

“A man can dream,” he says, throwing me a grin. “How’s it working for a Tucker?”

My memory flickers to holding Ava in her office, to cradling her hand in the kitchen, and a brief spike of panic shoots through me. Both times, I’ve been so close to fucking up. As much as I hate to admit it, our innate attraction is one thin layer from surfacing.

Her declaration today that I was more than a body to fuck made me realize she’s willing to lie to herself about anything. When we were together, the only person Ava Tucker ever cared about was Ava Tucker. That’s the thick line of truth. I could have been anyone—she basically told me that herself.

“It’s fine,” I say. “Same shit.”

“When I found out she was pregnant, I wondered, you know.”

“Not mine,” I say. “I checked. There’s a DNA test.”

“You questioned it too?”

“I didn’t know her son existed until Santos hired us. Hearing about her life wasn’t exactly something I sought out. His birthday made me wonder, so I called in a couple favors, just to be sure.” I wave off my dad, even though discovering Landon couldn’t be mine had been a sharper stab than I would have liked. What would it have meant if he was? Thinking about that possibility turns the sharp stab into a full-body ache. “I didn’t know you knew about me and Ava.”

“You kidding? Seemed like you were always out saving Ava from some mishap. And I knew you were getting Tucker money. All those officers take something from someone rich enough to pay—we all know it—so I wasn’t judging. Just seemed you were around her more than the others in the family. Caught her looking at you one time at the Tucker’s Town Christmas Festival, and it was clear as day that something was going on.”

My father has always been observant, and I’m just glad most of the rest of Bellerive hadn’t paid either me or Ava any attention. In eight years of being on and off like a light switch, I guess I should be grateful that he only ever saw the one instance where one of us cracked in public.

“Then you left Bellerive, and she rushed into a marriage with Raul Santos, of all people. Seemed like she might have gotten some bad advice.” My father shifts on his bed and lets out a groan as he does.

“She got what she wanted, Dad.” I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “Let’s talk about something else.”