“Sorry. I was resting.” Sighing, I touched my pounding head.
“Oh, sweetie. I didn’t know.” Sitting down next to me on the couch, she rubbed my arm. “Your head?”
“It’s fine.”
“You don’t look fine. I can go—”
“You’re here now. What’s up?” I asked, praying it wasn’t some emergency repair job that needed me to be functional.
“It’s Ramona.”
Thirty
Quinn
I barely made it to the pharmacy before they closed, but luckily, I was able to pick up Adam’s medication and make it to his place not too long after our phone call. Hoping he’d managed to fall asleep, I let myself into the kitchen as quietly as I could, but I was greeted by the sound of voices and pulled up short.
Adam’s mother’s voice rang out, and I was about to announce myself when I heard my own name and pulled up short.
“I don’t see why Quinn didn’t tell you she was pregnant.” Adam’s mother had a full head of steam, and I waited to hear what else she had to say. I couldn’t see either of them more than the back of Patsy on the couch, but the rigid set to her shoulders was echoed in her voice. “She said she’s known since Wednesday. She came for breakfast with Teddy and ended up with another dizzy spell. I begged her to tell me what was going on, and she said she’s expecting.”
I stayed still, wanting to hear if Adam agreed with her ire at me.
“Quinn couldn’t tell.” He sounded resigned. And exhausted. He should be in bed. “Doctor/patient stuff. Don’t go getting mad at him.”
“I’m not.” Patsy said that, but she sure sounded upset. “I’m just so worried about Ramona. If she’s going to have a baby without Darren, that’s a rough road as I know all too well.”
“We’ll all help. Me especially. She knows she can count on me. You can tell Ramona not to worry. We’ll all have to pitch in, but we’ll make it work.” He gave a pained grunt with the final word.
“Oh, sweetie. You’re really hurting, aren’t you?” Patsy’s arm came around the couch. I needed to announce myself and soon. I padded back over to the kitchen door as Adam gave another weary sigh.
“I’m fine. Worry about Ramona.”
“I worry about both of you.”
“You’re a good mom. And when she’s ready to tell me herself, I’ll offer to move back in, help out that way, especially with her not feeling the best.”
I’d already figured that change was coming, but my jaw still tightened. The best thing for Ramona might not be the best thing for Adam’s already overscheduled life. Or me, selfish as that thought was.
“Yes, that would probably help,” his mother predictably agreed. “But we don’t want you sick too. You’ve been working too hard. Too many late nights as well, I reckon.”
“Thought you said you weren’t mad at Quinn?” Adam said mildly.
“I didn’t mean that. Just that you’re pulling too many long days. Something has to give.”
She was right. Something had to give, and I was pretty sure what the something was, and it was going to kill me, but she had a point. Adam was running himself ragged, and I couldn’t ask him to choose time with me over a family that needed him and a job he loved. That wouldn’t be fair to anyone either.
“I know. I know.” The resignation in Adam’s tone said he likely agreed with her. He might not like it any more than me, but he agreed.
“What can we do for your head?”
That was my cue. I opened and shut the back door, louder this time, calling out, “Adam? I’ve got your headache meds.”
“See, Mom?” Adam swiveled toward the kitchen, giving me a tight smile. Slot canyons had more give than the narrow line of his lips right then. “My rescue squad has arrived. Let me take the meds and get some sleep, and I’ll be okay. Promise.”
“Well, all right. Guess I should leave you to your rest.” Patsy hefted herself off the couch and brushed by me on her way toward the front door, far frostier than usual. “Quinn. Thank you for helping out.”
“No problem.” I gave her a smile that she didn’t return.
“We’ll talk more when you’re feeling better, Mom.” He waved in the direction of the door. “You can tell Ramona she can call me. Even with the headache, I’m still here for her.”
“She’s probably going to be mad that I told you. I was just so worried. I didn’t know who else to talk to.” Her nervous eyes underscored exactly how important Adam was to his family—he was their rock, and of course, they were always going to come first for him. As they should.
“Don’t worry, Mom. It’ll all work out.” Adam slumped back against the couch cushions. “And I’ll act surprised.”
“You get lots of rest now.” With a last concerned glance at Adam, she let herself out, door shutting behind her with a decided click.