Marriage of Inconvenience(Knitting in the City Book #7)(175)

“Bah,” he waved this statement away. “Those people are shit-for-brains.”

I laughed harder, squeezing his hand.

“But seriously.” The look he sent me was slightly perturbed. “No one can know everything, understand everything. People gotta make mistakes, make assumptions, learn. And they need the space to do it without being condemned. So . . .” his expression cleared and he pulled me to a stop. “Thank you, for giving me the space to learn from my mistakes.”

How could I not smile at that? How could I not kiss him? Impossible.

So I did.

My heart tugged towards him as we separated and continued on our way, walking to the heavy security door. I pressed the call button and waited, a sudden flutter of nervousness igniting in my belly.

I hope she likes him.

Almost immediately, one of my mother’s personal nurses appeared, opening the door. “Kathleen, good to see you.”

She ushered us in and I turned to Dan. “This is Becky. She’s with my mother during the weekdays.”

They exchanged a short greeting and Becky motioned us forward. “She’s in the sunroom today.”

“How is she?”

Becky hesitated, then said, “She’s okay. She had a good day yesterday, sat in a chair, but today has been harder.”

I thanked her for the update, and then let Becky walk ahead as Dan slowed our steps, tugging on my hand.

When Becky was several lengths in front of us, Dan leaned in and whispered, “I thought you said your mom is . . . that she’s catatonic.”

I nodded. “She is. She’s been diagnosed with a very severe case of catatonic schizophrenia. Sometimes she is manic and moves around. But usually, she’s still.”

“Does she ever respond to you? Ever talk to you?”

I glanced down the hall to where Becky had disappeared. “No. She hasn’t spoken to me or acknowledged me since I was eight.” I breathed through a familiar twinge of sadness that had once felt like a mountain.

“But not all people with catatonic schizophrenia are like that?”

“It depends on the severity. Sometimes it can be treated with medication and psychotherapy, but it isn’t what would be considered curable. It’s a chronic disorder, and her case is very, very severe. It’s also very unusual. Medication hasn’t helped.”

Feeling Dan’s stare on me, I looked at him. He appeared to be a little panicked.

“I really am an asshole. I should’ve done some research before I came.”

Giving him a reassuring smile, I pulled him down the hall. “We’ve been a little busy, in case you’ve forgotten. I’d say you get a pass. Besides, there’s nothing to be afraid of or nervous about.”

He swallowed, looking like he wasn’t too sure.

We turned the corner and passed through a door into the sunroom. I spotted my mother immediately. She was lying on the floor in the corner. The top half of her body was turned toward the door, the other half was twisted toward the wall. She was wearing white scrubs, and they’d recently given her a haircut.

Becky was in a chair by the door, painting a portrait of a child on a medium-sized canvas. The nurse gave us a nod as we entered.

I studied Dan’s reaction as he looked at my mother, curiosity getting the better of me. His brown eyes moved over her motionless body for a long moment. She stared in our general direction, but her eyes were unfocused.

“She looks like you,” he said softly, his hand tightening on mine. “She looks like she could be your sister.”

“Thank you,” I said, and I meant it. I’d always considered my mother beautiful. “Dan, this is my mom, Rebekah. Mom, this is Dan. He’s . . . we’re married.”

My mother didn’t move, didn’t speak, just stared forward. I hadn’t expected any different.

So I did what I always did when I visited. Releasing his hand, I walked to the middle of the room and sat on a small sofa. And then I talked to her.

“We met a few years ago, and I liked him a lot. Wouldn’t you know it, he was also fond of me.” I sent Dan a grin over my shoulder, which he returned like he couldn’t help himself. His eyes were round with wonder, but I also spotted a small wrinkle of concern between his eyebrows.

Gathering a deep breath, I shifted my gaze back to my mother. “Dan and I had a misunderstanding that kept us apart for a while. But, don’t worry, we worked it out.”



Our visit lasted about an hour. Dan hadn’t said much at first, but once I’d coaxed him to the couch and pulled him into my narrative about our relationship, he loosened up and began talking.

Becky cautioned me not to approach my mother today, since she’d been manic earlier in the morning, so I didn’t. We said our goodbyes, and I promised to visit again soon.