Despite how uncomfortable this was, she had to forge ahead. “I came to drop in on Mason, if that’s okay.”
The inner office was very quiet. If he was in there, and wasn’t coming out at the sound of her voice, she had her answer.
She took a shaky breath.
“He’s not here.”
“Oh!” The rush of relief that flowed through her was childish. She couldn’t put this off forever. She didn’t want to keep postponing her life. “Maybe I could, ah… I mean, is he in town?”
“Depends.”
As curt as Marcia was being, Camilla suddenly remembered that, Mason aside, she owed this woman a courtesy, should have even sent a note probably. “I wanted to thank you, by the way, on behalf of my family.”
A pause. “For what?”
“For the generous donation to Special Friends.” The chairman of the group wasn’t supposed to divulge that the anonymous gift was given in her brother’s name, but he was a family friend by now, and so he did, delighted by it. And there was only one person even remotely connected to Joey with five million dollars to donate to charity.
“What’s Special Friends?” Marcia asked.
Camilla cocked her head. “It’s a charity that, ah, offers some really wonderful services for my brother and men and women like him. You gave a donation to it. An incredibly generous one.”
“I did not.”
“It was anonymous, Marcia, but I know it was you. Or rather you did it on behalf of Mason. You probably did all the legwork, though, found out my brother’s affiliation with it, and sent in the donation, so I wanted to thank you. And him of course. Mason. It was very thoughtful, especially given the circumstances.”
Marcia went back to her typing. “It was thoughtful all right, hon, but I did no such thing.”
“What?”
“You’re right. If Mason had wanted to make a donation, I would have handled it, the man barely knows how to write a check these days, but I’ve never heard of Special Friends.”
She tilted her head. “You’re kidding.”
The typing stopped. “God’s truth. Though it sounds sort of like Camp for Kids, which Mason started actually and is still very supportive of.”
“What?” This was all not computing.
Marcia got up from her desk and showed Camilla to the couch. She must look worse than she thought she did for the woman to soften up and offer her a seat. They sat down, a few feet away from each other. “The charity you mentioned, Special Friends. It sounds like Mason’s charity. Camp for Kids is devoted to getting special children and teens who live in cities out to the country for a few weeks. You’d be amazed at what a kick these kids get out of the horses and the hay rides.”
“Camp for Kids is for…” She hesitated, since in her family there were no other words for what Joey was, and certainly none of the words that used to be so common. Not even handicapped. He wasn’t handicapped. “Special kids? That’s what Mason’s been donating to, before he met me, you mean.”
Marcia crossed her arms over her substantial chest before she then pointed one finger at Camilla, shaking it. “Let me tell you something, missy, Mason is just about the most good-hearted person I know, and he was way before you showed up to kick him in the balls.”
Ouch. “I didn’t—”
“Since you came in here, and didn’t even have the good manners to otherwise inform me you were leaving, I’m going to tell you just what I think of how you treated that poor boy. He mopes around here all day and can’t even concentrate on his work and he went out yesterday and got himself a damn cat, and who do you bet is going to have to change the litter!”
She laughed. “Mason got a cat?”
“For your information, yes he did. Now I’ve known Mason since he was a little baby and that nutty mama of his acted like she cooked him up in a test tube and wanted to throw the batch back and start mixing ingredients again. Thank God she had to get a hysterectomy after she had him or she’d have been torturing some other kid now.”
“Torturing?” she said in alarm.
“It’s a turn of phrase. You’re getting as literal minded as he is.” She rose to retrieve a bottle of water from the fridge by her desk and tossed one to Camilla without asking. “Now, where was I?”
Camilla took a deep breath and a sip of the water. It looked like this was going to be a more lengthy conversation with Marcia than the quick exercise in good manners she’d envisioned.
“I thought you were her friend. His mother’s, I mean.”
“You think I wanted to stay ‘friends’ with Mason’s mama, Rita? Friends, hell! I only did it for the boy, the cutest little thing I ever saw, all black curls and blue eyes, Rita complaining that he didn’t talk for so long and didn’t want to be held. Who’d want that harpy holding him?”