Her mother studied him a few moments from behind her glasses, her gaze shrewd and assessing. Then, in testament to how much his being there motivated her, she cradled his hand between her trembling ones.
Carly fought gasping. Movement was painful for her mother, was awkward and shaky and difficult. Yet, she patted Stone’s hand between hers as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Maybe it was.
Just like that, Stone captivated her mother.
“I’ve cooked spaghetti and meatballs, my grandmother’s recipe. Can I tempt you to join us?”
To Carly’s surprise, or maybe not surprise since Stone had cast a spell over her mother, Audrey said yes.
Without slurring.
That her mother had already eaten the few bites, had had her feeding-tube meal, and still wanted to taste Stone’s cooking had Carly wanting to kiss him.
Okay, maybe she’d wanted to kiss him before that, but definitely she owed him for the spark of life he’d put into her mother’s eyes.
Stone unlocked the wheelchair, pushed Audrey over to the small wooden dining table on the opposite side of the room, and situated her at the table.
“She chokes easily,” Carly reminded him when Stone started dipping some food out. “She can only have thickened liquids to keep her from aspirating.”
“One b-bite is-isn’t go-going to h-hurt m-me,” her mother insisted, sounding annoyed at Carly. “I-If i-it g-goes d-down wr-wrong, th-there’s a d-doctor h-here.”
There was that.
Carly was more worried about aspiration pneumonia than her mother choking, though. It wouldn’t take much for her food to end up in her lungs rather than her stomach. Even with the puréed bites, it was a risk.
“Can I help you?” Carly’s teeth sank into the tender area on the inside of her cheek. Maybe, just maybe, her mother would chew every bite well and her throat would work properly and prevent aspiration.
Her mother shook her head. “H-him.”
Stone shot a look to Carly, one that asked permission.
Carly nodded.
To his credit and Carly’s relief, Stone used his fork to mash up the spaghetti to a mushy consistency. When he was satisfied with it, he took a small amount on his fork, managing not to get any pieces of the crumbled hamburger meat, and offered it to Carly’s mother.
Audrey closed her eyes. Pleasure on her face, she chewed slowly for a long time. Neither Carly nor Stone said anything, just watched her, ready to jump into action at the slightest difficulty.
When Audrey opened her eyes, she smiled. “A m-man wh-who c-can c-cook is h-hard to f-find.”
Stone grinned. “Unfortunately, I only have a few meals in my repertoire. I’m a quick study, though.”
“B-bet y-you are.”
Stone fed her another small mushed-up bite.
Carly watched in fascination at how her mother responded to him. She only ate a handful of small bites, but, as she’d already eaten some of the fruit and had her feeding-tube meal, Carly was impressed.
Her mother hadn’t taken in that much by mouth in a long, long time.
“I may have you over every meal,” Carly mused.
“That can be arranged,” he offered, eyes sparkling and a grin on his face.
Carly’s mother’s gaze went from Stone to Carly and back again.
Carly’s cheeks heated.
She didn’t want her mother to get ideas. If Stone wasn’t careful her mother would be picking out names for grandkids before he left that evening.
Somehow, she didn’t think that was what he’d had in mind when he’d said he wanted them to be friends.
Carly took a bite, redirecting her mind so she didn’t blush. At the burst of deliciousness in her mouth, she glanced toward Stone in true appreciation.
“Dinner is excellent,” she praised, trying not to let her surprise show. Then again, she should have known the meal would be superb. No doubt, anything he did was. “Thank you.”
* * *
This was the Carly who had caught Stone’s attention at the hospital. A smiling one. A laughing one. Her mother sat with them, but said very little while he and Carly ate and talked.
He told tales about his family, recounting a few humorous tales of his two sisters that had both Evans women laughing.
“Yeah, Jenny is a troublemaker, for sure.”
“No wonder with you as her mentor,” Carly pointed out.
“I might have taught her a thing or two.” He winked. “Either way, we’re both very different from Paula. She’s the serious one of the bunch.”
“What does she do?”
“She’s an infectious disease specialist in Atlanta. Works for the CDC.”
“A doctor?” Carly asked, looking genuinely impressed.
“Yes. She’s more into research than dealing with actual people.”