Page 77 of Clean Sweep
She smiled.
“I’ll be fine,” I insisted. “I promise. I just need some time to figure out what it’s really going to look like. Okay?”
“Okay.”
She leaned back against the seat with a sigh, and we drove the rest of the way home in silence.
LIFE RESUMEDfrom the quiet Christmas holiday.
Celeste made herself scarce with her friends, a new housekeeper joined the team, and I set him to work in the company.
At night, I talked to Leslie for too long while she hid in her bedroom, away from the rambunctious sound of boys in the background.
On the 28thof December, a text message interrupted my last few minutes of sleep.
Landon:Any chance you have a few minutes to spare?
Underneath the calm words, I sensed hesitation. Or maybe it was the fact that he’d sent the text at 6:30 in the morning. I grumbled under my breath, but rolled over, turned on my lamp, and sat up so I didn’t fall asleep. Forget texting. I hit the phone icon and called.
Landon answered with a harried breath a few moments later. “Hey coach.”
“What’s up?”
“I need help.”
“Everything okay?”
“No.” His firm tone, quick words, and the sound of moving in the background had me sitting up straighter. “Can you come over now?”
I stood up and reached for my pants.
“On my way.”
HALF AN HOUR LATER,Landon pulled open the door of their new apartment. The sound of retching rolled out from behind him.
Bags darkened his eyes, like he hadn’t slept all night. His hair lay askew. A long-sleeved white button down, and a half tied-tie, completed his zombie-like ensemble.
“You look like death,” I said.
“I need help.”
I stepped inside as he rushed around. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, coach, I just didn’t have anywhere to turn. Mrs. Donovan next door is still asleep and she’s so old, I don’t want to wake her up. Celeste needs a ride to the doctor’s office to get a hold of her nausea and vomiting, but I’ve got a meeting at the new job that I can’t miss. She’s retching so much, she can’t drive. She’s so weak, too. I already had a training meeting that I had to step out on to help her right before Christmas, and if they fire me . . .”
His words lingered in the air, fragile, as he snatched a pair of keys off the floor. They still didn’t have any furniture.
“Go to work. I’ll take care of her.”
He paused, maybe for the first time in hours. “Really?”
“Yeah, with one caveat.”
His shoulders tensed under my palm. “You want me to tell my mom.”
“It’s time, Landon,” I said gently. “You can’t do this alone. I know the pressure you must feel to take care of her and be all the things for your new wife, but you can’t. You never will. The sooner you accept that, the more youcantake care of her. Your pride doesn’t matter as much as her health.”
His nostrils flared and lips pinched together. He looked so much like Leslie in that moment I had to blink to clear the picture.
