Читать книгу The Long Way Home - Cathryn Parry - Страница 12

CHAPTER FOUR

SOMEONE WAS JUMPING on him.

“Wake up, Uncle Bruce!” Nina screamed in his ear. “We’re going to Disney World!”

Bruce opened one eye. Sunlight streamed in through wide-open curtains. His head ached. For a moment he struggled to remember where he was, a definite drawback to the traveling lifestyle.

Nina smacked him on the temple with a plastic magic wand. “Your hair looks funny. You have bedhead,” she announced.

That was amusing, coming from a six-year-old who wore Mickey Mouse ears and a sparkly princess costume, complete with wig and plastic purse.

His raised a brow at her and propped himself up on one elbow, but his stomach seemed to turn over. Last night Mark and Mike had followed him up here—to this room Moe had reserved for him at the Grand Beachfront Hotel. They’d carried a case of beer with them. Bruce knew the only reason they had made the effort was that a woman in the bar—he thought she might have been one of Bunny Faulkner’s former cleaning maids—had made a comment about him.

“Stole the keys from the valet stand here and got his best friend killed,” she’d whispered to a cohort sitting on a stool beside her. He wasn’t surprised to hear it, but he’d left because he didn’t want his family to have to deal with that.

And they hadn’t. Mark and Mike hadn’t said a word about it, and neither had he.

He gave his niece one of his easygoing smiles. “Hiya, princess. Where’s your mother?”

“I’m right here,” Maureen snapped, both hands on her hips. Her face was pinched and she was looking around the hotel room like a superior officer getting ready to assess him demerits. “This place smells like a brewery.”

Yep, the three Cole brothers had killed the case of beer between them. “You should be proud, Moe.” He winked at her. “Your wedding brought about the first real Cole brother reunion in years. Makes me feel in the family mood, it does.”

“Don’t be a jerk, Bruce.”

He rolled over and covered Nina’s ears. “Think of the children.”

Nina giggled and bashed him with her wand again.

“Ouch, that hurts,” he said in his best cartoon-character voice. His niece shrieked with laughter.

“Bruce, I’m not kidding,” Maureen said. “Get dressed. We don’t have much time.”

Apparently not. She was standing before him with suitcase packed, papers in hand. Well, it was for the best.

He gave her a mock salute, not willing to let himself get sucked into a bad mood, but her back was already turned and she was answering her cell phone. Her real estate voice was engaged. She stepped out into the hallway, momentarily bringing in the sounds of chaos before she closed the door behind her.

He turned and waggled his brows at Nina, who was now clinging to his back. “Time for you to leave so I can shower and get out of here, princess cowgirl.”

She whispered into his ear. “I wish you were coming to Disney World with us.”

Again, that regret tugged at him, nagging him to feel, but he pushed it away. “Honey, I live near Disney World. Any time you want to come for a school vacation, ask your mom to give me a call and I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

She gave him a pout. “I want you to come back here and get me.”

Nina had Maureen’s long, dark lashes and the same big, luminous blue eyes he remembered on his sister as a kid. He suddenly couldn’t do this anymore, sit and joke around with everyone as if nothing had happened, as if he was still that same guy, still a part of them.

He wasn’t anymore, and never would be again. Last night had proved that.

But he couldn’t say that to his niece. Instead he nodded. “Call me when you get to Cinderella’s castle.”

Then he opened the door and ushered Nina outside, and saw that, yes, the ruckus had been from his boisterous family, gathered in the hallway. Mark and Mike looked as if their heads felt fine and it didn’t bother them that their kids were screaming and running up and down the corridor. Two of the older ones—cousins, maybe?—were playing keep-away with their sister’s stuffed animal. “Lambie!” she screeched.

He smiled to himself. This crew was a danger to sleeping travelers everywhere. If he didn’t know them, he’d be cringing.

“Here’s the packet with everything you’ll need for Gramps.” Maureen pushed her way back into his hotel room, shoving a manila envelope labeled in her big, bold handwriting into his hands. “The main thing to remember,” she said in that drill sergeant voice, “is that he has an MRI scheduled for Wednesday at the hospital. The home has a van that can take him, but he needs constant supervision, so it’s best that you go with him.”

“To the hospital?” He looked at her as if she was nuts—because she was if she thought he’d be any kind of help there.

“Yes, Bruce, to the hospital.” She stared him straight in the eye. “The Wallis Point Regional Hospital.”

He felt his jaw grinding. If he remembered correctly, Bunny Faulkner had worked there. The last person in the world who would want to see him.

He hauled his suitcase upright and unzipped it to find his toothbrush. It was best he got all the details out in front, now. “Does anyone know me at this nursing home of Gramps?” he asked as calmly as he could.

Maureen sighed. “I thought you said you were over it.”

He glanced sharply at her. “I don’t want it taken out on Gramps if somebody petty remembers the gossip,” he said quietly.

Her lips pressed tight together. She didn’t like what he was saying.

“Your friend, Natalie,” he remarked casually, as he rooted in the side pocket for his toothpaste, “gave me a strange reaction last night after I introduced myself.”

“That’s probably because you hit on her.” Maureen snorted. “I saw you come on to her. Way to be subtle, Bruce.”

He smiled and shook his head. He’d approached Natalie only because she’d been “hitting on him,” too. There had been an attraction across that crowded ballroom. He couldn’t possibly have mistaken that. “Do you expect me to be a monk?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re here to take care of Gramps.”

Which he was going to do. Today. Today only. He’d thought about it last night and had realized what should have been obvious from the beginning: he had the cash, he could hire a great private nurse to give Gramps the extra-special attention that Bruce could not. And as soon as he got to this nursing home, he would make inquiries.

But Moe didn’t need to know that. It would upset her unnecessarily, and there was no need for that as she got ready for her honeymoon. He wasn’t that big a jerk.

Maureen’s phone chirped again, and she glanced at it. “The van to the airport is here. Bruce, I have to wrap this up.” She opened her purse and pulled out an envelope with a slip of paper attached by a paper clip. “Here it is. I went through hoops to honor your request not to stay in any of the family homes. I’ve been working the phones all morning to find you a rental that’s still open.”

He glanced at the bedside clock. “It’s 8:00 a.m., Moe.”

“And real estate never sleeps. Lucky for you I’m an insomniac, because this is beachfront. A private cottage.” She pressed the envelope into his hands. “Close to Gramps’s nursing home, so you can spend time with him without worrying about weekend traffic.”

The address was for an exclusive area on the water and accessible only by private road. He whistled, suddenly intrigued. “How did you manage this one?”

“I pulled in a favor. I didn’t particularly like doing it, which should show you how much I’m willing to go to bat for you.” She glanced at her phone, which was beeping again. “Look, I’ll call you from the road. I need to get everybody going.” She leaned over and half hugged him around the shoulder. “Take care of Gramps,” she whispered into his ear. “And thank you.”

As a rule, Coles did not thank each other. That meant she was seriously rattled about Gramps’s condition.

“He’ll be fine, Moe,” was all he said.

She nodded, her lips pressed together. “Please call me when you see him,” she said. And then she began marshaling her caravan down the hallway.

The poor kid would never enjoy her honeymoon. He fumed with his impotence in this situation. This made it all the more critical to hire somebody great—somebody capable—to protect and take care of Gramps for her.

Once Bruce was showered and dressed, he cleared out, repacking the few items he’d taken from his suitcase. Just another anonymous hotel room in another anonymous town. He’d have to look at the situation that way.

* * *

NATALIE WAS SLEEPING soundly when the phone she always kept inside her pillowcase vibrated against her cheek and jolted her awake.

Her first thought was that she was late for the class she’d volunteered to teach. Berating herself, and without looking to see who was calling, she muttered a greeting into the phone.