"No problem."

He hadn't taken a single swallow of his tea. Before crashing his scooter, Josh had seen his mother walking along the beach with Richard. It might actually have been the distraction that caused him to crash-that part he didn't remember.

Teresa had had her arm wrapped around Richard's elbow. She was dressed in a sleeveless summer dress and the wind had whipped the hair about her face. Her skirt was pressed against her legs. Richard was more relaxed than Josh could ever remember seeing him. He'd rolled his pant legs up to his knees and they were both barefooted. The sound of his mother's laughter echoed down the beach, mingling with the cries of seagulls circling above. What had struck him about that moment in time was the fact that Teresa was so genuinely happy and carefree.

All too often Josh could remember his mother sitting at the kitchen table with a mound of bills in front of her. She'd have them stacked in piles as if gauging which ones had to be paid first. More times than he wanted to recall he'd watched her cover her face with both her hands and weep. Just thinking about that made his stomach clench into a hard knot.

Just the day before, Josh had been willing to acknowledge that his mother had loved Richard. And he couldn't help but feel grateful to Richard, despite all his flaws, for bringing joy back into her life.

The doorbell chimed and Mich.e.l.le went to answer. It was the same woman from hospice that had stopped by the day before.

"I was at another house close by," Ginger explained as she stepped over the threshold.

Mich.e.l.le took her coat and purse and hung them on the coat-rack just inside the door.

"We were just having tea, would you like a cup?"

"Thank you, but I don't really have time. I'll check on Richard and then I need to be off."

"I understand."

"I'll go with you," Josh said, hoping that if Richard got upset, he would take his anger out on Josh instead of the woman who had so graciously volunteered her time.

Mich.e.l.le cast him a look that said she should probably be the one to escort the other woman in to see Richard. He bowed to her wishes.

The temperature between them had cooled considerably since he'd told her that he would be leaving soon. He was sorry for that, but he didn't want to mislead Mich.e.l.le. The timing was just all wrong. This was an intensely emotional time and he was confused and unsure if he could trust his feelings. Richard was close to death and the chance to make a clean break from this town and the painful memories was fast approaching.

After a few more minutes of questions and answers, the two women quietly crept into Richard's bedroom.

Josh didn't hear Richard complain, so he speculated that his stepfather was still asleep. Maybe he had even pa.s.sed away.

Richard dead.

The unexpected shaft of grief that struck him caused Josh to sink down into a chair. He should be glad all of this was over if indeed that was the case.

Thinking back, Josh tried to remember what it'd been like when his mother had died. They'd known, of course, that the end was near. Richard and Josh had been with her, one on either side of her hospital bed. That was fitting, considering how far apart they were in every aspect except their love for the dying woman.

His mother had been sleeping, and her breathing had gone shallow and whispery. After one last breath, she was gone.

Richard had looked at Josh, tears streaming down his ashen cheeks, his eyes filled with raw grief, and whispered, "She's pa.s.sed." Then he'd leaned forward, his elbow braced against the bed, and wept loudly.

Josh had been in some sort of emotional shock, he realized now, because he'd felt nothing. Not grief, not pain ... he'd felt absolutely nothing. He hadn't shed a tear, at least not that he remembered.

Richard's loud wails had brought a nurse into the room. A chaplain had been called, too. By then Richard had gotten ahold of himself enough to function normally. Josh couldn't remember either of them speaking on the way home. After dropping Josh off at the house, Richard left almost immediately for the funeral parlor.

Funny how those memories were surfacing all of a sudden. What he found even odder was that he had been in an emotional bubble when his mother had died and he was feeling just the opposite now that it was Richard's time to go. He was overwhelmed with sadness and the old man was still alive. Josh could find no plausible explanation.

Mich.e.l.le and Ginger came out of Richard's bedroom.

"He's awake," Mich.e.l.le said. "His eyes fluttered open when we entered the room."

"What do you think?" Josh directed the question to the hospice volunteer.

She didn't hesitate. "Less than forty-eight hours would be my educated guess."

"That soon?" Josh wanted to believe Richard was too mean to die. He'd want to beat the odds, prove that he was more powerful than death. "Did you tell him that?" he asked.

The woman from hospice shook her head.

"Was he upset we called hospice again?" Josh asked, looking at Mich.e.l.le.

"He was, but he doesn't have the strength to yell any longer."

"He wanted you to leave him alone, right?"

She smiled knowingly and nodded. "Oh, there were a few other choice words tossed in as well, but I can't see repeating those."

"That's probably for the best."

"Call me if there's a change," the hospice lady said. "The medication will address the pain. I don't see any reason for him to go to the hospital."

Josh walked her to the front door. As she fastened her coat, she paused. "He could pa.s.s soon, perhaps sometime late tonight or early tomorrow morning."

"Okay. Thank you for coming; we appreciate it."

"No problem. I'm glad I was in the vicinity and could stop by."

"We are, too."

The house seemed unnaturally quiet after she left.

Josh hesitated and then went into Richard's bedroom. The door creaked when he opened it.

Sure enough, Richard's eyes opened as Josh walked into the bedroom, stopping at the foot of the bed.

"I thought I told you to stay away," Richard muttered.

Josh moved closer in order to hear him. "I'll leave in due course, so don't worry. I'll be out of here before you know it."

"Go now."

"Okay, if that's what you want."

Richard closed his eyes and inhaled softly, his breath reedy and thin.

"I was remembering when Mom died," Josh said.

Almost instantly Richard's eyes filled with tears. He rubbed his hand across his face and Josh could see he was embarra.s.sed.

"I still miss her," the older man managed to whisper. "Not a day pa.s.ses that I don't think of Teresa."

"Thank you for the joy you brought into her life. I hope you realize how deeply she loved you and how happy being married to you made her. I'll always be grateful for how you took care of her, especially at the end of her life."

Richard's tears flowed in earnest then, rolling down his deathly pale cheeks, making gleaming tracks as they progressed to his chin and dripped onto the pillowcase.

"Meeting Teresa was the best thing to ever happen to me ... and to Dylan, too."

He was silent after that, as if he was caught up in the memories. Then, just as Josh was about to leave, Richard spoke again. "I thought I saw her ..."

"When?" he asked softly.

"Last night. She stood at the foot of the bed, ghostlike. I could see straight through her to the wall."

"Did she say anything?" No doubt it'd been the drugs. The dose of painkillers would have kicked in by then and they were strong ones.

"She didn't speak but ... it seemed like I could hear her. She told me that she and Dylan were waiting for me."

Josh nodded.

"I'm not afraid of death." The defiant look in Richard's eyes underscored his words. "I'm ready to go. Anytime."

"Good thing."

"Good thing," Richard repeated and closed his eyes.

For one crazed second Josh thought he'd actually died, but then he saw Richard's chest move as he exhaled, and he was able to breathe again, too.

Just like Josh had thought. Richard Lambert was too ornery to die.

Chapter 25.

Abby knocked on her parents' hotel room door and waited. No one responded, so she knocked again, louder. Still no one answered. Fearing she might have gotten the wrong room, she headed down to the front desk. As she neared the counter Abby noticed that the breakfast room was tucked off to the side, and it was crowded with people chatting and sitting around tables. It wasn't breakfast time though.

"Abby." Her mother came through the double-wide doors with her arms outstretched. "We're in here."

"Mom ..."

"Abby," her aunt Eileen cried, joining her mother. "Oh, sweetie, it's so good to see you." She enfolded Abby in her arms, giving her a hug so strong that Abby feared her aunt would crack her ribs. "It's been far too long," Eileen said.

Her uncle Jake joined his wife. He slipped one arm around Eileen's waist and the other around Abby's. "Come see your cousins."

The last time Abby had seen Sondra and Randall she'd been a teenager and they'd been toddlers. The gangly young man who approached her had a protruding Adam's apple and he stood at least six feet two inches, towering above her.

"Randy?" Abby couldn't believe this was her baby cousin.

"I go by Rand now."

"Rand?" Her eyes widened. "What happened to you?"

He grinned sheepishly. "I grew up."

A lovely young blond woman joined him. "Don't you remember me?" she asked.

"Sondra?"

She smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. "It's me."

"I don't believe it." Abby laughed. "Good grief, I changed Rand's diapers."

"Ah ... would you mind ...?" The youth asked, awkwardly shuffling his feet.

"As I recall we called you Super p.o.o.per."

Rand's boyish face went bright red, and the a.s.sembled group laughed.

"Don't worry," Abby promised, "I won't mention it again."

"Thanks," he said, grinning back at her.

"Remember your aunt Betty Ann?" her mother said, steering Abby to the other side of the room.

"Where's Uncle Leon?" Abby remembered that her father's brother always had a camera in hand.

No sooner had she asked the question than a camera flashed.

"Uncle Leon," she said, laughing. Both her aunt and uncle hugged her.

"It's been far too long," her aunt Betty Ann complained.

"You're welcome to visit any time," Abby surprised herself by saying. "Remember, I live in Florida and the winters there are lovely."

"We live in Arizona," Betty Ann said. "We have great winters, too."

"They aren't that far from us," her mother added.

"Oh sweetie, you don't know how good it is to see you."

Her uncle Leon aimed the camera in her direction. "You always were as pretty as a picture." The flash went off three times in quick succession.

"Where are Doug, Craig, and Joy?" Abby asked about her younger cousins.