When it did, my eyes widened.
“Mom?” I called out. “Mom, it’s Charlotte. Where are you?”
Another moan rolled through the air to my ears.
“Over there.” Dawson bolted away from me, able to pinpoint where she was faster than I could.
We found her a few feet away. She was lying on the ground behind a large fallen tree.
“Are you okay, Mrs. Montgomery?” He helped her into a sitting position.
“Oh my God,” I gasped. There was a large gash on her cheek and scratches along her right arm. “Mom.”
“I’m okay,” she soothed me. Her eyes locked with mine, and in that moment, she was my mom again. She knew who I was. I could see it in the depths of her eyes. For the first time since I arrived, she was coherent.
“What were you doing out here?” I scolded her, feeling as though our roles had somehow reversed, and she was the child. “You could have gotten seriously hurt.”
Mom waved my words away as she let Dawson help her to her feet. “I wanted to come for a walk. It looked so pretty out here.”
“You should have asked someone to come with you.” I reached for her, offering to help her walk back to the house.
“I’m fine.” She pushed my hand away. Her legs wobbled, but she caught herself before Dawson or me could touch her. “I’m okay.”
I watched her, keeping pace with her. What if she had a concussion? I debated whether I should take her to the emergency room once we got back to the house.
“I know what you’re thinking, and no, I don’t need a doctor,” she said as though she could read my mind.
Normal. This moment. This conversation with her. It was all so normal. Well, minus her disappearing act. Happiness bloomed through me. This was how it should be. Not the tromping through the woods, searching for her, but this ordinary conversation where she knew who I was and what was happening around her. She should always be this way.
“Thank God!” Emma shouted once we broke through the woods and into our backyard. She flew out the kitchen door and straight toward Mom.
“I went for a walk, and got a little turned around,” Mom said as though it was no big deal.
“Why would you do that? You know it’s not safe. We’ve talked about this,” Emma scolded. “What happened to your cheek?”
I watched as Emma gave Mom a thorough onceover, deciding yet again there was no way I could handle this. Was this what it was like day to day for her? How could she handle this? The fact became more apparent the longer I was here; things had gotten so much worse in the few short months since my last visit.
“Dr. Miles will be here shortly. I’ll see if he’ll look at you.” Emma ignored all of our mother’s protests and glanced at Dawson. “Thank you for helping find her again.” A large, gracious smile spread onto her face when she looked at him.
“No problem.” He leaned forward, and placed a soft kiss against my sister’s forehead. She closed her eyes, and I swore I saw all of her tension melt away.
I wanted to continue to hate them together. In fact, I braced myself for the wave of jealousy I expected to crash into me any second from his sweet gesture, but it never did. Emma needed Dawson. I could see that clearly. In that fraction of a second, I came to realize how much the statement was true. Dawson must be what made all of this bearable for her; he must be from where she drew her extra strength.
“Mrs. Nelson brought your dad by for you,” Emma told Dawson as they pulled apart, and started through the back door of our house. “He’s in the living room.”
“I asked him if he wanted to ride with me.” Dawson wrapped his arm around Emma’s waist and pulled her close. “But, he insisted I come spend some time with you first, before all the craziness of the night kept us apart.”
“I guess he was right.” Emma giggled. It had been forever since I’d heard my sister giggle like that. “I’m sorry. Mom has been a bit much the past few days. Her spells seem to be getting worse.”
Dawson paused outside the back door, and turned her to face him. His hands cupped her face as he stared into her eyes. “You don’t have to apologize to me. I get it. Trust me.”
I had been right. They both were stuck in this crappy little town, taking care of their parents. It made them even more perfect for one another.
I cleared my throat, interrupting their moment, and slipped past them. “I’m heading inside.”
“Right. Us too,” Emma said, but neither of them moved.
I found Mom leaning against the counter with a glass of lemonade in her hand. She looked peaceful as she stared out the window above the sink.
“Hey, how’s your cheek?” I walked to where she stood, curious about her cut and scratches.
“When are the puppeteers coming?” Her face was serious, but I knew she couldn’t be. Emma would never hire puppeteers for something like this.
“Do what?” I chuckled.
“I didn’t stutter, Debbie.” She looked me in the eye when she spoke, while she called me Debbie. “They were supposed to be here an hour ago, weren’t they?”
Mom was gone. I had become Debbie again. Charlotte didn’t exist to her for the time being. The weight of that realization crashed into me.
“Who was supposed to be here an hour ago, Mom?” Emma asked when she and Dawson walked through the door.
“The puppeteers,” I said in a soft voice. A sigh floated past Emma’s lips. I knew she was stressed to the max, even with Dawson whispering sweet nothings into her ear and holding her close. “It’s okay. I can take care of this. Let me know when Dr. Miles gets here,” I insisted.
Emma’s brows pulled together. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I flashed her a smile. “This is your party, go enjoy yourself. I’ll get her situated, and then be out to celebrate with you both in a bit.” It was the least I could do. Plus, it would give me time to compose myself.
“Okay. Thank you, Charlotte.” There was relief in her voice.
I sucked at being a sister and helping take care of our mother, but maybe tonight I would be able to redeem myself. The least I could do was try. She deserved to be happy. This was Emma’s moment. She was engaged, even if it was to my dream guy.
“WHEN ARE YOU COMING back?” It was after one in the morning, but Sadie and I were both wide awake. She was a night owl too. It was part of the reason we worked so well as roommates. Both of us could stay up until the butt-crack of dawn, sleep for the majority of the rest of the day if our schedules allowed it, and then get up and do it all over again. It wasn’t that we were partiers; it was just the way we were wired. Nighttime was when we were most alive.
“I’ll probably leave around ten or eleven, which means I’ll make it back by five or six-ish, depending on traffic.”
“Promise me you’ll be careful. There’s a massive storm coming through. It’s supposed to bring crazy rain our way for the next couple of days.”
My brows lifted to my hairline. Was she for real? “Listen to you. Since when do you pay attention to the weather?”
“Since it’s all Jeff talks about.” Irritation laced her words. My prediction about the two of them was on the verge of coming true.
“Why does he care so much?” I maneuvered a pillow behind my back so I couldn’t feel the headboard digging into my spine anymore. “Is he studying to become a meteorologist?” I had no clue Bradley offered courses for that major.
“No.” She took a sip of whatever she was drinking. “He’s just a weather freak.”
I chuckled at her tone. “What do you mean?”
“He obsesses about storms, rain, hurricanes, earthquakes, pretty much anything besides sunshine. Unless it involves the massive drought California is suffering.” Ice clinked in a glass on her end. “It’s really starting to turn me off.”