Page 41 of The Candle Palace (Jamison Valley 6)
“Oh, Sara.” She laughed. “There’s no harm in having family stop by to say hello.”
Yet, she hadn’t said hello. I didn’t respond as I gave her a tight smile.
“So, your car?” Dr. Vernon asked her.
“Yes.” She sighed dramatically. “It’s caused me so much trouble and it isn’t even a year old. I think I was suckered into a lemon. You know how those car salesmen can be. They take advantage of women.”
And now she was playing the damsel in distress.
“That’s horrible.” Dr. Vernon clicked his tongue, his eyes drifting to Mom’s breasts again. “If you decide to trade it in, I’d be happy to go with you. As a favor to Sara, of course.”
“Right. Of course. It’s so wonderful she has such nice friends at work. Thank you, Dr. Vernon.”
“Call me Greg.” He extended his hand so they could shake. Again.
“Mom, I’d love to talk, but I really do have to get back to work. Healing patients and all.”
“It’s fine.” She waved me off with her free hand since the other was still holding on to Greg.
“Will you wait here? Or downstairs? Or . . . what?”
She let go of Dr. Vernon’s hand and waved me away. “I texted your brother.”
“You texted Denny but you came here to get the keys to wait at my place?”
“I didn’t feel like walking anymore. I’m chilled to the bone.”
“It’s three blocks.”
“I’m cold.” She pointed a long finger to her knee-high stilettos. “And these are four-inch heels. It’s icy out. Do you want me to break my neck? I barely survived getting here.”
“Okay,” I muttered. “Fine. So is Denny coming here?”
Mom opened up her phone to check her texts. “He’s already on his way.”
Ugh. Denny was unpredictable at best. Since he’d moved in with Mom at New Year’s, I’d seen him three times. Once for dinner. Then another time when I’d dropped off a vase of flowers for Mom’s birthday in January. Then this past week when Mom had called and said she’d found a box of my things in the basement.
All three times, Denny had been high. If he came here today and was high again, he’d either be loopy from the alcohol, dazed from the marijuana or flat-out mean if he’d taken something stronger. His mood would likely depend on the drug he’d chosen for breakfast. God, I hoped he’d just smoked some weed. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been without a shirt and his right arm had sported a needle mark.
Denny was in trouble and I wasn’t sure what to do about it. I wasn’t sure Mom even noticed her precious son was anything but perfect. But Dad, he would have been heartbroken. And he would have hauled Denny’s ass to rehab.
Was Denny okay to be driving? Maybe I was exaggerating his problem. I had only seen him the three times.
Still, I wasn’t taking the chance of him coming up here and causing a scene. Mom’s visit was enough family-coworker interaction for one day.
“Well, Mom, I guess you’d better head down to meet him then. The waiting room down there is much bigger and you can people watch. I’d love to sit with you but I really can’t.”
“I can keep Abby company,” Dr. Vernon offered.
“She’s fine,” I insisted.
“Oh, I’d love company.” Mom smiled at him.
Fantastic. My mother was going to flirt with the man who was essentially my boss while they waited for my brother to show up in Lord knew what state.
Dr. Vernon gave Mom his elbow, like he was escorting her to prom, not to a waiting room with a fake ficus in the corner and one-year-old magazines. He offered her the bench seat, then sat across from her, leaning forward on his elbows as he gave her a flirtatious smile.
Was this really happening? Was Dr. Vernon into my mom?
