She felt as if he’d punched her in the gut. “You’re really doing it.”
“I really am.”
“What did Dad say?”
“Some smart thing about not being surprised because I’ve always been too good to get my hands dirty for very long. Not much I could say to that, was there? Anyway, Mom started crying about another of her kids flying the nest. But she wasn’t upset, just…resigned.”
“I don’t want you to go.”
Thomas squeezed her hand. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re a married woman now, with a life of your own. Denver’s not that far away. Carson wanted to take you there for your honeymoon and you know you can visit me anytime.”
Her eyes searched his. “But that’s the only way I’ll ever see you, isn’t it? Because you’re not coming back here.”
“Maybe I will. Chances are I won’t.”
“Because of Dad?”
He sighed. “Yeah. Mom’s gotten way worse in the last year and Dad won’t…”
“But he took her to the doctor last month.”
“Did either of them tell you what the doctor said?”
Carolyn shook her head.
“The rheumatoid arthritis is in her lungs.”
She frowned. “What does that mean?”
He said nothing.
“Thomas. You can’t spring something like that on me and then clam up.”
“Do you think I wanted to share this with you on your birthday?” he demanded. “No way. And here I am… Just forget it.”
“Because it’s bad, isn’t it?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“How bad?”
“If she goes on oxygen they’re giving her another two years to live at most. Without oxygen…a year.”
That’s it? “How’d you find out?”
“They were fighting about it. She’s refused to go on oxygen because she doesn’t want to move into a nursing home just to prolong her miserable life—her words, not mine.”
She rested her head on her brother’s shoulder, too shocked to even cry.
“I’m sorry. I was the only one home during their fight so I’m the only one who knows. And now you.”
“Even knowing she’ll probably be dead in a year, you’re still going to Denver?”
Thomas locked his gaze to hers. “Yes. I can’t change anything and I’ve watched this situation deteriorate long enough. You weren’t here and I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty. We have to make our own choices. You did. Now I am.”
“What am I supposed to do with this information? Mom and Kimi had a fight after the wedding and she left in a huff, saying she wasn’t ever coming back. That she’d finish out her schooling and work for Aunt Hulda until she turned eighteen.” Carolyn wanted to scream, who’s going to take care of her?
But in that moment, she knew. Caring for her mother as she was dying would fall to her.
“I’ve always been closer to you than anyone else in the family,” Thomas reminded her. “I couldn’t not tell you.”
Did he think passing along the bad news somehow absolved him of the guilt of leaving?
The only one who feels guilty about anything in the West family is you.
When the song ended, she hoofed it back to the table and ignored Thomas’s shouts calling her back. Still no sign of Carson, but he’d left his whiskey.
Good. She picked it up and drained it.
Beverly grinned. “That’s the spirit, birthday girl! Mike, get her another shot. And one for me.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay.”
“I insist,” Beverly said. “Who knows where I’ll be on my birthday so we’re celebrating yours and mine tonight.”
Carolyn knew better than to argue. And besides, wasn’t that what this crowd did? She needed to learn to drink. Especially if she wanted to keep up with her husband.
Where was he, by the way?
She tapped Charlie on the arm. “Where’s Carson?”
“Went out to talk to Earl about something. Why?”
“He’s been gone a while.”
“You know Carson. He gets to talkin’ and drinkin’ and loses track of time.”
No, she didn’t know that about the man she’d married.
“Come on sis-in-law, you wanna dance with me?”
“Sure. After the shot I’m doing with Beverly.”
Charlie’s eyes widened. “Didn’t think you drank.”
“I’m trying it on for size tonight.”
He slid his full lowball glass over. “Since I’m too young to buy you a birthday shot, you can have this.”
“Why aren’t you drinking?”
He shrugged. “Not feelin’ it.”
“Thanks.”
Mike returned with two shot glasses. Beverly leaned over to whisper, “To marriage; we fold our man’s socks because we want to hold their cocks.”
Carolyn grinned. She chased the whiskey burn with the last of her warm beer. Then she clapped Charlie on the shoulder. “Let’s dance.”
Charlie was a great dancer. She didn’t think anything of it when the “Do-Si-Do” started, requiring dancers on the floor to change partners. She danced with half a dozen different men. During the last minute or so, she ended up with a guy who was drunk. He kept trying to pull her closer and she tried to rip herself away from him entirely with a terse, “Let. Go.”
“Sorry.” Instead of releasing her, he clamped his hand on her butt cheek and angled his head like he wanted to kiss her.
Her reactions were slower than usual, courtesy of the booze, so she turned her head away.
But the guy’s lips didn’t land.
Because Carson had inserted his arm between her and Mr. Grabby Hands.
“What the hell? Move it, buddy,” he slurred.
Carolyn watched as Carson pushed the guy back. Then he punched him hard in the stomach and followed through with an uppercut that rocked the guy on his feet. When the guy didn’t go down, Carson hit him two more times until he did.
Then he loomed over him. “You ever put your filthy f**kin’ hands on my wife again I will break every f**kin’ bone in your body. Every. Goddamned. Bone. And then I will make you bleed. Are we clear, you sorry son of a bitch?”
The people who’d been on the dance floor had gathered around. A woman dropped to her knees beside the man and glared at Carson. “What did my husband do to you?”