Mike let out a long breath. “I’m glad.”
“Me too. They say this exhaustion and weakness will go away after he finishes chemotherapy. I hope they’re right.”
“I’ve heard it takes a while for people to come back to themselves,” he cautioned her. “Some people are never quite the same.” He spoke gently, but wanted to prepare her.
She nodded, swallowing hard. “I know, honey. But I need to think positively to get through this and your father, and his will to live and get better…it’ll be fine.”
“I agree.” He sat forward, elbows on his knees. “Mom, I need to talk to you.”
“Of course. What is it?”
Mike broke into a sweat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d broached the subject of Rex. Though he meant it when he’d told Cara his mother was strong, neither one of them would enjoy this talk.
Better to get it over with, he thought. “I have questions about Rex Bransom.”
The color leeched from her face.
Mike rose and was beside her in an instant. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting…”
“I know. But something’s come up from years ago, and there are things I need to ask you.”
She nodded slowly, color returning to her cheeks. “You can ask me anything, you know that.”
Assured she’d recovered from the shock, he returned to his seat on the couch. “Here’s the situation.” Mike explained everything: the mayor’s request to clean up corruption, how it had led to the evidence room and the money, and how he and Cara had ended up at Judge Baine’s house and the man’s Alzheimer’s-induced ranting. “But there’s truth to some of what he said. There has to be. At the very least, he linked himself to Rex and admitted holding out on Simon. And Dad—well, Sam tried to talk to him about that time right before he got sick and he shut down completely. Wouldn’t say a word.”
Ella rose and paced the room.
Mike let her absorb his information before asking, “Mom, was Rex involved in anything back then?”
She turned, but didn’t meet his gaze.
“Mom?”
“Look, back then I was so absorbed in being pregnant and Rex’s reaction and then his leaving…I’m telling you the truth.” She clenched and unclenched her hands. “But I can tell you this,” she said softly. “Rex liked a challenge; he skated on the edge.”
“Like me,” Mike muttered, more to himself than to her.
“You don’t skate on illegalities, Michael. There were good parts of Rex, and those are the things you inherited from him. Don’t do this to yourself.”
He shook his head, agreeing with her on some things, not on others. “So I’m back to where I started. Either I push Dad, which I can’t do while he’s so weak, or I find Rex and get the answers myself.”
His mother swayed on her feet.
Mike muttered a curse, rose, and wrapped his arms around her, leading her to the sofa. “Sit.”
She did as he instructed.
“I’m getting you something to drink. Hang on.” Mike went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of orange juice. “Here. Drink this.”
He sat next to his mother while she drained the glass.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry to do this to you now.”
She shook her head. “Work or not, you have every right to ask about your father.”