Page 29 of Reckless Love

I slip past her into the living room, where Stephen’s parents, who I recognize from photos I saw in Stephen’s apartment a long time ago, are sitting in matching recliners. A wheelchair is off to the side, and suddenly, the ramp makes a lot more sense.

“Mr. and Mrs. Foster,” I say, entering the living room and going to each of them to shake their hands. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Foster says, “I wish I’d met you before my eyesight went all wonky.”

“You can’t see very well?” I ask, crouching in front of her.

“This MS business is the pits, I tell you. Steals so much joy.” She squints at me. “But I remember you were such a beauty when I’d see you around Bellerive.”

“You have MS?” I ask, unable to keep the surprise from my voice.

“Diagnosed a few years ago. Walter was looking after me until he was in that car accident and buggered his back. Can’t really walk much anymore.”

“Broke my heart that I couldn’t look after Lorraine,” Walter says. “And then Stephen had his accident. Poor Vanessa had it rough there for a while. All of us needing her, none of us any help.”

“Right,” I say, slowly. “Stephen’s accident. Sounds like he was pretty lucky.”

“Should have died,” Walter agrees. “I hate even saying that, but all the reports we got were bloody awful. That’s when the nursing started.” He gestures to the young woman who met me at the door.

“What—” I start to say when a door opens by the kitchen and Stephen enters with a suitcase.

He stops short when he sees me and lets out a huff. “Of course you couldn’t listen to a simple instruction.”

“I didn’t know I’d be barging in on your parents,” I say.

“I’m not sure why you think I’d tell a client anything about my personal life.” His tone is sharp.

“Oh, it’s no bother,” Lorraine says. “We’re happy for the company. You should bring your son around some time. We don’t get out much since it’s such a chore for both of us to go anywhere. Stephen and Vanessa try, but they work so much.”

The shape of Stephen’s life when he leaves my house is starting to form. “The full-time nursing care must help.”

“It’s not full-time, but it’s what we can afford,” Walter says. “Or rather what the kids can afford.”

“All right,” Stephen says, “Mrs. Santos really doesn’t need to hear all this.” He tries to usher me toward the door with his suitcase.

“It was so lovely to meet both of you!” I call to them as Stephen practically pushes me out the front door. “Why are you so rude?” I say, turning on Stephen the minute the door closes behind us.

“I told you to stay put.”

“I was not sitting in the car when I could be in there helping you.”

“That was helping? Seemed like prying to me. Invasion of privacy. Nosy bullshit.”

“I was going to help you pack. I had no idea you live with your parents.”

He leads us toward the car without confirming what I know to be true. He puts his suitcase in the trunk while I stand beside the car instead of getting in. I don’t know what I expect from him, but I want something more than his silence.

“To be clear,” he says, opening the door for me, “they live with me.”

“I’m really sorry that their lives have taken such bad turns,” I say, the car door between me and Stephen. I hold onto the top, and when our gazes connect, his annoyance with me is clear.

“My life and theirs are really none of your concern.” He gestures for me to get in. “We need to get back to the house so I can relieve Kiara and her team for the night.”

Reluctantly, I slide into the back of the car. Whether he likes it or not, this conversation isn’t over. Today, more pieces to the Stephen-shaped puzzle were added to the mix, and I will figure out how they all go together.

Chapter Eleven

Ava