He felt helpless, just like every time he’d walked into his parents’ home only to find them totally blitzed. Again. For five long years after he’d moved into Susan and Bob’s crowded but caring household, he kept returning in an effort to get help for his parents. And it had torn him up every single time, especially when nothing he tried to do to help them worked.
Damn it, Dr. Hillman should have been able to fix Francine’s hands, do surgery, prescribe a treatment—at least give her some damn pain medication that worked without getting her hooked or having terrible side effects.
“Charlie, Sebastian.” Francine held out her gnarled fingers, her smile so big and sweet, despite the lines of age and pain on her face.
“Sebastian brought you a present, but even though I’ve been pestering him, he won’t tell me what it is.” Charlie slid into the chair next to her mother and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“You’re such a little girl when it comes to presents.” Francine’s wrinkled face glowed with fondness. “I am too.” She grinned up at Sebastian. “What did you bring?”
Sitting next to her, he also kissed the soft, paper-thin skin of her cheek. “You’re as bad as your daughter,” he said, keeping his tone light. He wouldn’t take his frustrations out on either of them. Instead, he’d do more research. He’d find another doctor.
He’d do something.
For now, he simply pulled a penknife from his pocket and slit the tape along the top, then pulled out a second box.
As soon as Francine saw the picture on the outside, she put her hands over her mouth. “Oh my.”
“What is it?” Charlie moved the bigger box out of the way so that she could see the picture too.
“A paraffin bath,” her mother said, tears glistening in her eyes. “This is the sweetest gift a man has ever brought me. Thank you. You’re such a darling man.”
Her glow did his heart good after Hillman’s disappointment. “I did some research, and the heat of the paraffin wax sounds like it might help ease some of the pain. It comes with gloves you put on after you dunk. Then you start to feel the heat transfer from the wax into your hands. There’s a temperature control, and paraffin has a lower melting point than candle wax, so it doesn’t burn your skin.”
Francine put a hand on his arm, her touch as delicate as a hummingbird’s. “Sebastian, you are sweet as the dickens.”
Charlie didn’t say anything at all, but the look in her eyes said she thought he’d just moved mountains for her mother. He wished he could do more than this one small thing. What the hell use was his money if he couldn’t make Francine feel better?
“It takes the wax four hours to melt the first time. And you should toss the used wax from your hands after it cools instead of reusing it. I’ll make sure more wax is delivered on a regular basis.” He’d read all the instructions. “Would you like to set it up in your room?”
“Oh yes, please. I’ll get one of the aides to help me this afternoon.”
After filling the paraffin wax, he and Charlie took Francine to lunch, then a drive, along with a stop for coffee and a bit of cake. By the time they returned, the wax had melted. They helped her dip, put on the plastic gloves, then add the mittens that would help retain the heat.
The bliss on Francine’s face was worth every moment he’d spent scouring the internet, and the kiss Charlie gave him melted his bones like the paraffin. He would do anything to make things better for them. He hadn’t been able to save his parents, but he would for damn sure make life easier for Charlie and her mother.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
With Sebastian, Charlie had quickly learned, everything moved fast. The following Monday, though he’d already been out of town for the past several days, he told her, “I’ve got a gig down in Los Angeles and I’d like you to come with me.” He’d held her hand and looked at her with his dark, hot eyes. “I knows it’s time away from your work on the chariot and horses, but I miss you and don’t want to leave you again so soon.”
If a heart could have turned over, that’s what hers did, just as it had every time he surprised her with yet another of his sweet thoughts or actions. His consideration was innate, bred into him with years of caring for his parents even when they hadn’t wanted it.
Now that she knew exactly what selling more pieces could do for her mother’s way of life, Charlie had been toiling maniacally since Sebastian had sold the rams. She couldn’t work on the chariot twenty-four seven without the risk of making both creative and technical mistakes that would be difficult to correct. So, during what she called her creative breaks, she’d started a couple of new projects, mostly animals for the menagerie she now believed someone might actually want. Sebastian had also arranged for the T-Rex to be brought over to the new studio and she was working on finishing that too.
The truth was that by the time he’d asked her to come to L.A. with him, she’d been feeling tired and a little burned out—a rare thing for her, when she’d always worked at a steady but reasonable pace. A day watching Sebastian do his thing would be pure pleasure.
So now here she was, occupying a special reserved seat in the front row of a sold-out fifty-thousand-seat auditorium. They were all here for Sebastian. People chattered and programs fluttered as the audience began taking their seats for his grand entrance. She’d left him backstage with a kiss—a really hot one that she could still feel tingling on her lips. As an usher escorted her to her seat, her heart was pounding and her palms were sweaty, as though she were the one about to stand up in front of all these people. Whereas Sebastian had been as calm as if they were having a quiet dinner on his terrace.
Charlie couldn’t say what she’d imagined one of his presentations would be like, but this was mind-boggling. The stage stood in the middle of the arena. Cameras were trained on the center, with its single stand for a glass and a carafe of water, while special lighting beamed down. Sebastian told her the workshop would be filmed for later syndication to TV stations, as well as DVDs and audio downloads.
He’d called it a workshop, but this was like a rock star’s performance. Since Sebastian had slowed down to just a handful of appearances a year, the place was packed. Everyone clearly wanted a piece of him.
The lights dimmed, voices hushed, and that was when she realized she’d gotten it wrong. This wasn’t a rock concert, where fans shrieked and screamed. It was the symphony, where a reverent silence fell and everyone in the audience waited, breaths held, to be swept away by the magic. Just as Sebastian had swept her away so many times since she’d first met him.
A spotlight snapped on, illuminating Sebastian, who was halfway down an aisle to the stage. The clapping started then, rising until it was deafening. Charlie jumped to her feet too, beating her hands together. She’d understood that he was a celebrity with beaucoup bucks, but she hadn’t understood this, the adulation, the way people reached out to touch him as he passed.
Then he was in front of her, leaning in for a quick kiss and flashing that killer smile, leaving her dazed, until she blinked and realized he was now on stage. His dark suit and white shirt were beacons in all the lights shining on him. His sable hair gleamed, and he was utterly gorgeous.
Who wouldn’t listen to a man like him?
He raised his hands and waved people back to their seats. “Welcome.” His voice boomed out of the microphone clipped to his lapel. There were indistinguishable shouts in return.
“Today is all about you. About your life and what you want it to be. I don’t have guiding principles to give you, just a little common sense. But here’s the thing about common sense. Sometimes we’re just too close to see it. And sometimes we need help from outside ourselves to understand it.”