“Some juice, please. The doctor said it would be good to drink some since I was so dehydrated and in need of the extra sugar.”
Nodding, he reaches into the fridge and grabs the orange juice before pulling a glass from the cabinet. He pours me some juice, then hands it to me. “Want to talk?”
I take a sip. “Sure.”
“It’s nice out. Why don’t we sit outside.”
“Sounds great.
I grab the jammer, then we head outside and sit on the sectional.
“I’m not sure how to tell you this.” He scrubs his face. “Your mother was supposed to tell you and said she did. But I’m beginning to think she didn’t and never planned to. This is not how I wanted you to find out, not that an easy way exists.”
“She had cancer,” I say.
His bloodshot eyes go wide. “How did you find out?”
I pick my nails. “Roger told me.”
“That’s what he told you that made you suspect a listening device.” He shivers. “His listening to everything we say freaks me out.”
Unable to believe this is happening, I stare out into space.
Peter touches my hand, making me jump. “Sorry, sweetheart. What’s on your mind?”
“That Christmas shit, about wanting things to be perfect, makes sense now. She knew it could be her last, and she wanted to spend it with me. I ruined it for her.” I bite my lip to avoid a full crying meltdown.
“Shelby, it’s not your fault.” He takes my hand in his. “Neither of you were in the right frame of mind. You did what was best for your mental health. If your mother was thinking clearly, she would have said the same thing.”
“When did she find out she had cancer?”
He takes a deep breath and lets it out. “Not that long after you were taken. We assumed she was worn down and had the flu. She wasn’t eating much, and she was coughing a lot. When we found out, she refused any medication. But I guess the pain became too much for her.”
I try to hold myself together, but fail. I tip my face up to the sky as tears well up in my eyes.
“Your mother didn’t mean any of the stuff she said.” He squeezes my hand. “She wasn’t in her right mind and was in a lot of pain.”
As much as I want to believe him, Mom told me many times how she felt about me and made choices that showed how much she cared. But Peter deserves this sliver of goodness that he wants to remember about my mom.
“I understand, Peter. Thank you for telling me.”
“So, Patty did really have cancer.” Nick joins us, sitting beside me and taking my other hand.
“Yes, she had stage four lung cancer.” Peter takes in a deep breath, releases my hand, and looks away.
I scoot closer to Peter and give him a side hug. “I’m sorry, Peter. You gave her the love she needed. She wasn’t happy before she met you.”
He pats my leg, a tear trailing down his cheek. “It appears I’ll spend the rest of my life alone.”
“Dad.” Nick moves to sit down on the other side of his dad.
“It’s okay, son. I’ve come to terms with this.” He takes in a deep breath. “I did a lot of thinking last night. Between the tracking devices and memories, I don’t think we should stay here until Roger is found. He broke in here too easily.”
“Where will you go?” I ask.
“To the downtown apartment. It has a doorman twenty-four-seven,” he says. “You can come with me if you want, but I figured you’d want to stay with friends.”
“They can stay with us. Frank has more guards now. Nick and Shelby will be safe.” Dom comes outside, joins us on the patio, and sits on the sectional.