Spectacles on his face, he looked every inch the doting old man she had grown to love. Tears still sprinkled his worn face.
“Ah , my girl! You spoil me!” David winked and struggled to sit up further on the bed as she placed the tray in front of him. “What’s this?” His old hand moved over the fudge brownie in pure satisfaction. “You made des s ert too?”
Mara shrugged . “ Sometimes we just need a little chocolate .” Especially af ter such a trying day .
The unspoken words hung heavy between them.
“Thank you , Mara.” David looked away and wiped his eyes, then picked up the first ham sandwich. “Are w e to go for a walk today?”
Mara hesitated, not knowing if she should tell him that she’d rather take her chances with wolves than be caught walking by Blaine’s room with his sick father.
Smiling she patted his hand and said , “Maybe, but you need to rest if you’re going to have enough strength to do so.”
“A book then?” David’s pleading eyes were impossible to deny.
Mara swiped the worn Pride and Prejudice from the book shelf and smiled. David rolled his eyes . “Okay , fine , Mara, but don’t go blabbing it to everyone.”
Smiling, she opened the book and cleared her throat, putting on a serious face so that she could adequate ly do Miss Austen justice. “W here were we? Hmm … Mr. Darcy at the country ball? No, that wasn’t it . W as it perhaps when Elizabeth goes to visit her friend Charlotte—”
“—stop teasing , Mara . Y ou know it was the part where Mr. Darcy is confessing his love to Elizabeth.”
“Oh , that’s right. ” Mara laughed and opened to the correct chapter. “Elizabeth….”
****
Taking a deep breath, Blaine resigned himself to what he had to do. It was, after all, why he had requested leave and made the trip all the way from Boston. As he started up the narrow staircase, he could hear the woman speaking to his father. His door was open , and she was sitting on a chair near his bed reading out of an old book. She blocked his view of the old man.
He stepped into the doorwa y and watched her a moment in silence . When she stopped reading and looked up, he could hear his father say something i n a raspy voice. She laughed – a clear, pure laughter. Blaine cleared his throat, drawing her attention.
Mara rotated in her chair to look at him, rising and glancing back at the bed-ridden man.
“I’d like to see my father now,” Blaine stated flatly.
When s he stepped out of the way, Blaine realized he had not sufficiently prepared himself for what he might see. The reality of his father’s illness sank in as he laid eyes on the old man for the first time in over ten years. His hair was so white. He was thin and pale, literally wasting away. Even the room smelled like death.
The last time Blaine saw his father, he was a different man. Tall and strong with dark wavy hair and piercing gray eyes. This was only a shadow of the man he had left behind so long ago. His eyes were the same though, and they lit up with recognition of his son – an anticipation of sorts. The sight of his father was a shock, but it was not enough to erase the years of anger and lack of forgiveness Blaine had been harboring, so he set his jaw in determination not to allow pity to win over his affections.
“Son!” David exclaimed, as he struggled to sit up further in his bed. Mara rushed to his side to arrange his pillows.
The very word seemed to sear Blaine’s heart and stir his fury . He seethed. “I have a name, s ir. I’d prefer you to use it.” The wound was visible in his father’s eyes, but the young man steeled himself against the emotional tug.
“Of course. I’m glad you’re here, … Blaine.” His voice was weak and raspy.
That makes one of us, Blaine thought, but he said nothing. The man was suffering enough. And Blaine was nothing if not a model of control . Well, when he was sober – a fading dull ache under his right eye reminded him why sober was
“Ah , my girl! You spoil me!” David winked and struggled to sit up further on the bed as she placed the tray in front of him. “What’s this?” His old hand moved over the fudge brownie in pure satisfaction. “You made des s ert too?”
Mara shrugged . “ Sometimes we just need a little chocolate .” Especially af ter such a trying day .
The unspoken words hung heavy between them.
“Thank you , Mara.” David looked away and wiped his eyes, then picked up the first ham sandwich. “Are w e to go for a walk today?”
Mara hesitated, not knowing if she should tell him that she’d rather take her chances with wolves than be caught walking by Blaine’s room with his sick father.
Smiling she patted his hand and said , “Maybe, but you need to rest if you’re going to have enough strength to do so.”
“A book then?” David’s pleading eyes were impossible to deny.
Mara swiped the worn Pride and Prejudice from the book shelf and smiled. David rolled his eyes . “Okay , fine , Mara, but don’t go blabbing it to everyone.”
Smiling, she opened the book and cleared her throat, putting on a serious face so that she could adequate ly do Miss Austen justice. “W here were we? Hmm … Mr. Darcy at the country ball? No, that wasn’t it . W as it perhaps when Elizabeth goes to visit her friend Charlotte—”
“—stop teasing , Mara . Y ou know it was the part where Mr. Darcy is confessing his love to Elizabeth.”
“Oh , that’s right. ” Mara laughed and opened to the correct chapter. “Elizabeth….”
****
Taking a deep breath, Blaine resigned himself to what he had to do. It was, after all, why he had requested leave and made the trip all the way from Boston. As he started up the narrow staircase, he could hear the woman speaking to his father. His door was open , and she was sitting on a chair near his bed reading out of an old book. She blocked his view of the old man.
He stepped into the doorwa y and watched her a moment in silence . When she stopped reading and looked up, he could hear his father say something i n a raspy voice. She laughed – a clear, pure laughter. Blaine cleared his throat, drawing her attention.
Mara rotated in her chair to look at him, rising and glancing back at the bed-ridden man.
“I’d like to see my father now,” Blaine stated flatly.
When s he stepped out of the way, Blaine realized he had not sufficiently prepared himself for what he might see. The reality of his father’s illness sank in as he laid eyes on the old man for the first time in over ten years. His hair was so white. He was thin and pale, literally wasting away. Even the room smelled like death.
The last time Blaine saw his father, he was a different man. Tall and strong with dark wavy hair and piercing gray eyes. This was only a shadow of the man he had left behind so long ago. His eyes were the same though, and they lit up with recognition of his son – an anticipation of sorts. The sight of his father was a shock, but it was not enough to erase the years of anger and lack of forgiveness Blaine had been harboring, so he set his jaw in determination not to allow pity to win over his affections.
“Son!” David exclaimed, as he struggled to sit up further in his bed. Mara rushed to his side to arrange his pillows.
The very word seemed to sear Blaine’s heart and stir his fury . He seethed. “I have a name, s ir. I’d prefer you to use it.” The wound was visible in his father’s eyes, but the young man steeled himself against the emotional tug.
“Of course. I’m glad you’re here, … Blaine.” His voice was weak and raspy.
That makes one of us, Blaine thought, but he said nothing. The man was suffering enough. And Blaine was nothing if not a model of control . Well, when he was sober – a fading dull ache under his right eye reminded him why sober was
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