Quinn made the introductions. “He’s just here to drop off some new gear from one of the companies that sponsors him.”
“Oh.” Her eyes darted out the front door, and her face lit up. “Who’s the girl with the dog?”
“That’s my sister, Sarah,” Gage answered.
Mom practically flattened Gage on her way to the front door. “I love dogs! Yoo-hoo! Hey, doll! Come in! Bring your dog.”
Quinn suppressed his eye-roll. It would’ve only added to the thudding in his head anyway. Instead, he offered Nelson an apologetic shrug. Nelson answered with a no-big-deal shrug of his own.
Judging by the way Sarah Nelson’s head swiveled on her shoulders, she was surprised his mother was cajoling—no, roping her in. And who the hell wouldn’t be? Sarah didn’t know his mother, nor did she know that once Elizabeth Hadley set her mind on something, you’d better get out of her way. And even though he didn’t particularly like Miss Sunshine, he inwardly wished her luck.
“Yes, you,” his mother called to Sarah. “I’d like to meet your dog.”
And just like that, Sarah Nelson and her big, yellow, panting dog crowded into the foyer with them. Well, not that the foyer was small enough to become crowded with a mere five souls, but everyone was clustered together. The dog seemed to zero in on his mom, thrusting its head into her lap. She patted it and crooned, “There’s a good boy. Oh, aren’t you a beauty!”
The dog responded with an enthusiastic tail wag.
Sarah smiled at his mom—a genuine, eye-brightening smile. Green eyes? “His name’s Archer.” Her voice held a huge dose of pride.
“Like the cartoon character?” Quinn and his mother both said at the same time. Though his mother didn’t seem to notice, his chin probably hit his chest. How did his mom know about Archer?
Sarah bobbed her head, her pink strands fluttering around her face. “Yes, that Archer.” That’s when Quinn noticed only the very front strands were pink. The rest of her short do was dark brown, a rich color that caught the light and reflected it in reds.
He managed to cough out, “You’ve watched Archer, Mom?”
“I own every season on DVD,” she murmured, though all of her attention was riveted on this Archer.
Suddenly, the dog backed up and out of her grasp and sat on its haunches, doing a canine version of standing at attention. It seemed to sniff the air, then glanced over its shoulder at Sarah and let out a whine.
Sarah’s dark brows knotted in a frown. “What’s up, Arch?”
Another little cry and he fidgeted like he wanted to jump up and take off. Sarah pointed. “Seek.” The dog loped toward the kitchen, and they all fell in line behind, coming to an abrupt stop when it parked its furry butt once more and stared up at the kitchen island. It was making a whiny-pant sound, its head swinging between Sarah and the island.
His mom gasped and pointed. “Oh my God! I forgot to take my pills this morning.”
Quinn snatched a little zippered cloth bag where his mother kept all her meds. As soon as he handed it to her, the dog seemed to settle down.
“Good boy, Archer,” Sarah sang.
Baffled, Quinn said, “What just happened?”
Sarah’s eyes danced with excitement. Gray? “I’m not sure, but I think … He was trained to be a diabetes alert dog. They can smell when something’s off with their human—like their blood sugar level is too high—and they alert a family member. I’ve never seen him actually use that skill, though.” A little laugh escaped her. “Ironically, he flunked his training, and that’s how I ended up with him.”
“Well, he gets an A-plus from me,” Quinn’s mother said, causing his mind to whir. Most of their arguments were over caregivers he hired and she fired. Could he hire a dog as a caregiver? How much kibble would it demand in payment?
He filled a glass with water for his mom while she fiddled with the paisley pouch. He held out his hand to help her open it, but she ignored him and fought the zipper. Fine motor skills were eluding her today, but as usual her stubborn streak was sharp. Sarah also extended her hand, and to his surprise his mother relinquished the bag. He bit back the sting, telling himself at least his mother was willing to let someone help. As Sarah finessed the zipper, his mom told her which pill container she needed. Sarah plucked it out, uncapped it, and tapped out a pair of pills into Mom’s open palm. Just like that. If only he could get the same cooperation.
After downing the pills, his mother looked from Sarah to Nelson and back again. “I’m Liz.”
“Oh shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve introduced you.”
Mom darted daggers at him. “Quinn Anthony Hadley! Jar!”
He returned an eye-roll, grabbed his wallet from the kitchen desk, and stuffed a bill into his mother’s idea of the perfect cure for swearing: a three-foot-high glass cylinder she lovingly called the “swear jar.” So what if the container was already half-full?
“Wow, dude,” Nelson chuckled. “Is that all you?”
His mom nodded and gave Nelson a smug smile. “I keep telling him he’s going to go broke.” Her eyes then riveted on Sarah. “Is your nose pierced?”
Sarah had been wearing a smile since she’d set foot in his house, and now that smile widened. “Yep. It’s a recent addition. What do you think?”
“Oh, girl, I love it! Is that a diamond?”
Oh girl? Quinn took a step back. Who was this woman in the wheelchair, and what had she done with his mother?
“Yes, it is. It was a recent splurge.” Sarah twirled her index finger.
“Celebrate a birthday or something?” Quinn asked.
She turned and looked at him for the first time since she’d walked in, and that brilliant smile slid from her
