“Well, I’m here now and I have enough food for three, so we mayas well eat.” She forced herself into the kitchen, not in the mood for aconfrontation. Maybe they could keep things polite through lunch, and then shecould escape unscathed. “Where’s Teddy?”
“On the back patio, reading the paper.”
“Good. It’s a gorgeous fall day. You should join him. You looklike you could use some fresh air.”
“I’ve got a million things to do this afternoon if I want to haveany semblance of a weekend,” Jacqueline said, propped against the doorframebetween the kitchen and living room.
“Well, you’ve already put your laptop aside. And now you’rehalfway to the patio. I apparently brought enough fried chicken to feed anarmy.” She gestured to the bucket of chicken she’d picked up on her way backfrom her morning shoot. “So let’s go out and have a picnic with Teddy.” Shelooked up and caught Jacqueline staring at her with a mix of fondness andconfusion. “What?”
“Nothing.” Jacqueline looked away. “You’re very good at takingcare of all of us.” When she glanced back up, her expression grew serious.
“Well.” Casey broke eye contact first this time. The mood in theroom suddenly felt a bit too domestic. She looked down at the three platesshe’d been filling with food. “How was his appointment?”
Jacqueline didn’t answer right away, and Casey worried shewouldn’t go with the subject change. But then she straightened and came fartherinto the room. “I think he’s finally being honest with his doctor.”
“That’s good.”
“He tells me he’s fine. But once the doctor called him out on hisshit, he admitted to back and leg pain. The doc prescribed someanti-inflammatories and pain pills.”
“If you leave them on the counter, I’ll make sure he takes themwhen I’m here.” Casey spoke without thinking, then realized she’d toldJacqueline she wouldn’t be coming anymore after this week. She’d just givenJacqueline an opening to bring up their recent argument.
“The doc also thinks he’s depressed.” Though Jacqueline didn’tstray from the previous topic, her tone became more tentative.
Casey nodded.
“You’re not surprised.”
“Not really. He hasn’t been the same since your mom died. Butlately, he seems more—I don’t know—lonely, maybe.”
“I’ve tried suggesting activities for him. But he seems contentto sit in that house and let me bring everything to him.”
“What did the doctor suggest?”
“He doesn’t want to put him on medication just yet. He says hecan suggest a therapist with experience with the elderly.”
“God, it’s so weird thinking of your dad as elderly.” He’d beenin his mid-forties when they’d first started dating. She’d been completelyintimidated the first time Jacqueline had introduced her. He’d just returned homefrom a construction site covered in grease from his work as a heavy-machinerymechanic. He’d greeted her gruffly and barely spoke to her at dinner, leavingJacqueline’s mother to do the entertaining. She hadn’t known at the time thatshe was the first girl Jacqueline had brought home to meet them. “I can’timagine him willingly seeing a therapist.”
“In the absence of drugs and therapy, he said, as a first step,we should get him out and active. He’s lost too much weight and needs to eatbetter. And more importantly, poor nutrition can lead to bone loss and otherhealth issues.”
“Okay. So,” she looked down at the fried chicken, potatoes, andgravy, “after this meal, healthy cooking, then. And we have to entice him outof the house.”
“I thought you were done after this week,” Jacqueline saidsarcastically.
“I’m not doing it for you.” Just like that, the tension was backbetween them. She picked up her and Teddy’s plates and headed for the patio.
The screened patio had always been Teddy’s favorite place to unwind.He and his wife had spent their evenings drinking their after-dinner decaf inthe side-by-side lounge chairs that occupied one side of the area. Opposite theloungers, a round patio table and four chairs were perfectly placed to feel thelight midday breeze.
“How did you know I wanted fried chicken?” Teddy opened hisnapkin and laid it across his lap.
“You mentioned it twice last week, and we didn’t have it. I tooka chance that you were still in the mood.”
“Enjoy it. After this it’s all grilled chicken and leafy greens,”Jacqueline said as she joined them on the patio. She took the chair across fromCasey.
Teddy waved a drumstick at her. “Are you doing the cooking?”
“I can follow a recipe.” Jacqueline gave Casey a stern look,warning her not to argue.
Teddy didn’t seem convinced. He looked at Casey and said, “Maybeyou could bring over a pot of that potato-and-kale soup you make. We could liveon it for a couple of days.”
“Hey, I’ll be in town all week. And I should be able to get homefor dinner. So I got it covered.”
Teddy smiled as if he’d meant to rile Jacqueline up. “Maybe soupfor lunch.”
“I think you may be getting spoiled by all of this attention,Dad.” Jacqueline winked at Casey, then gave her an apologetic look.
Casey turned her attention to her plate. She couldn’t deny theway her stomach had fluttered in reaction to the wink, but then again, beingthe focus of Jacqueline’s attention had always affected her that way. Likely,Jacqueline had winked out of habit in the same way that she reacted automatically.
“I have back-to-back shoots on Monday. But I can come for lunchon Tuesday.” She’d told Jacqueline she was done helping out. But she’d enjoyedspending time with Teddy these past few weeks. And why should he have to sithere alone all day just so she could spite Jacqueline?
“Soup, then?”
“Let’s make a deal, Teddy. I’ll bring soup, if you’ll go for awalk around the block with me before lunch.”
“You’d make an old man walk for his lunch?”
She laughed. “Yes.”
“To the corner and back.”
Casey pretended to consult Jacqueline, who gave a small nod.“Deal.”
Casey ate the rest of her lunch quietly, listening to Teddy andJacqueline talk about the plight of Teddy’s second cousin from Arizona who hadjust been diagnosed with prostate cancer. Casey had never met the cousin, butthe conversation led to a roll call of other distant family members thatneither had seen nor thought about in years. Jacqueline recalled a
