until eight years ago when she finally agreed she needed to move to an assisted-living facility.”
The kid doctor didn’t look up from the notes he was making. “What precipitated that decision?”
Major crossed his arms. “She set fire to her condo, and several other residents of the complex were injured. It wasn’t the first fire she’d set.”
“She was living alone?”
Here it came. The accusation. How could he have left her alone to fend for herself when he knew how bad off she was? “I was working in New York at the time. She’d been taking her meds and going to therapy regularly. But I moved back immediately afterward. I tried taking care of her myself for several months, but it didn’t work.”
Sevellier nodded as if gaining new understanding. “I see. She’s come a long way since then.”
“There is something you should know—and it’s supposed to be in her charts. She is sort of obsessed with John Wayne movies. That was why she had ... why she was such a problem last night. It wasn’t just that she hadn’t taken her meds; it was because she was watching a John Wayne movie. She doesn’t like to be interrupted when she’s watching one of those.”
“I see.” Sevellier typed some more. “But if she’d taken her meds, it wouldn’t have been a problem?”
Major bit the inside of his cheek. These guys never really understood her. “Probably not, because she would have been asleep before the movie came on. But I’m telling you, she’s watching one right now. If you want to see how she reacts to having her John Wayne time interrupted, be my guest.”
“I ... uh ... I don’t think we need to upset her again. I’ve noted it on her chart.” He stood and extended his right hand. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. O’Hara.”
Major rose and shook the kid’s hand. “You, too. Please don’t hesitate to call me if anything like this happens again.”
“Will do.” Sevellier moved away then turned back. “Oh, I hear congratulations are in order.”
Major frowned. “For what?”
“You mother has been telling everyone for weeks that her son is getting married.”
“Oh.” Doogie Howser blushed. “Sorry.”
“No problem.”
Major shrugged into his coat and exited the center into the frigid, pouring rain. He pulled the collar up around his ears and ran toward Kirby. His cell phone vibrated against his waist, and as soon as he climbed into the vehicle, he unholstered the phone and flipped it open. “Hello?”
“Hey, Major. It’s Forbes.”
His best friend’s voice came as a welcomed relief. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Wondered if you might have time to get together one day this week.”
His mind still occupied with his mother and her issues, Major couldn’t think clearly. “I think I should be able to get free one day, now that Steven’s handling lunch service. But I’ll have to check my calendar once I get back to the office tomorrow to let you know for sure.”
“Okay. Good. I’ve been reviewing the paperwork you gave me on your restaurant idea, and I wanted to talk to you about it.”
No more bad news. Not today. Major slumped forward until his forehead pressed against the top of the steering wheel. “My restaurant proposal?”
“Yeah. I don’t really want to get into it over the phone. Let’s just try to get together as soon as possible next week.”
“Sure. I’ll shoot you an e-mail tomorrow to let you know when.”
“You all right?”
“Just exhausted. You know, the event last night...” He wasn’t really lying to his friend—just not divulging the truth.
“Why don’t you come over and watch football with us this afternoon—Dad and the boys and me—over at Mom and Dad’s house?”
“Thanks for the invite, but ... I’ll be at the open house for a few minutes; then I’m going to head home for some peace and quiet.”
“I gotcha. I’ll talk to you later.”
After they disconnected, Major tossed the phone into the passenger seat. “Lord, why did I get out of the bed today?”
Chapter 4
You’d better not mess up my car, buddy-boy.
The puppy thumped its tail a couple of times against the floor then put its head back on its paws. The veterinarian at the quick clinic had said the little guy would be out of it from some of the shots.
Meredith pulled her jacket over her almost-dry hair and dashed across the small lot to the store’s front door.
“We close for lunch in thirty—oh, hey, Glamour Girl.” The proprietor rounded the sales counter and shook Meredith’s hand. “To what do we owe the honor of your visit today?”
One of the things she loved about Robichaud’s Hardware was the fact that no one cared if she arrived in paint-splattered clothes, wearing no makeup, and looking no better than that puppy had when she’d pulled him out from under the porch.
“Since you’re having your big New Year’s Day sale, I figured I’d come in and clean you out of the rest of that paint stripper. And I need some wood epoxy, as well. Same aisle?”
“You know where stuff is in here better than I do, gal.” He handed her a shopping basket. “If you think of anything else you need, or if I don’t have exactly what you’re looking for back there, give me a holler.”
“Thanks, Rob. Will do.” Meredith dropped her wallet and keys into the basket and headed for the painting supplies section in the back of the store. Her work boots thudded slightly on the wide-plank pine floor.
She breathed deeply and let it out as a sigh. The smell of wood and metal and turpentine and hard work welcomed and embraced her. She was certain she could get what she needed at the warehouse-like home improvement center a few miles closer to the house, but she preferred the sounds, scents, and service she experienced here.
She grabbed the last two one-gallon cans of the gel-style solvent she liked best for removing old paint and moved down the aisle to the display of all the caulks, glues, and epoxies. The few products that she needed to look at were, naturally, on the bottom shelf. She set the heavy basket on the floor and crouched down to read the labels.
In the stillness, the front-door bell chimed faintly, followed by Rob’s echoing voice calling out that the store would be closing for lunch in twenty minutes. Meredith turned her attention back to the product labels, not wanting to leave her leather seats at the mercy of the puppy any longer than necessary.
The light above her dimmed. She glanced up—and nearly lost her balance.
“Do you need help finding something, miss?” The man who asked towered over her.
She jumped to her feet, balancing the can, bottle, and tube of epoxy in her hands. “No, thank you. I’m just reading to try to see which one I want to buy.” The can shifted and her fingers spasmed and cramped trying to keep hold of it—to no avail.
Before it could fall, the giant with curly dark hair caught it. “Whoops. Don’t want that falling and popping open. We might be stuck here forever.” He had a jaw like a sledge hammer and a grin like a teen idol.
She shook her head. So he was good-looking—so what? “Thanks.”
“You’re buying wood epoxy?” His gray eyes twinkled.
“Yes.” She shifted the tube and bottle into her left hand and reached for the can.
He didn’t immediately let go, a crease forming between his thick brows. “Are you sure this is what you’re looking for?”
