Luca watched her as she told her story, never once looking at him. Flashes of hurt, worry, and pain swept over her eyes as she spoke.
“It sounds like a lot.”
“It was . . . is. He’s back in a wheelchair, and this time he can’t control his bodily functions. I can’t keep the condo and hire home health care for him. It’s too much. And I can’t do it myself.” Brooke glanced Luca’s way briefly. “I won’t do it.”
“You’re only one person.”
She waved a hand at the home. “Tell him that. He’s all pissed off today because the tests they make new residents take aren’t back yet and he is still quarantined in his room. I got here first thing this morning to bring him a microwave because he was complaining about cold food being delivered to his room, and I find out that they didn’t even test him until yesterday. He knows it takes three days, but he’s still bitching. Then he threatens to leave.”
As the story came full circle, Luca sighed. “So that’s why we’re sitting here.”
“That’s why I’m sitting here. I haven’t figured out why you’re here.”
“I’m a sucker for a crying woman.”
Brooke snorted. “You shouldn’t admit that.”
“True.” He lifted the last of his sandwich to his lips. “Where is this condo that your dad didn’t take care of?” He popped the food in his mouth.
“Upland. I hate it there. My friend Carmen came to help me and brought me to San Diego. Moving here was the compromise. I get a small place, sell the condo, and the assisted living home could literally be anywhere and it shouldn’t matter. I’m close enough to do what I can for my dad. Sell the condo so I have some ability to afford it all and wait for the next phone call.”
“I’m not following that part. What phone call?”
“The call. The one that always happens right about the time I think I’m on top of everything. The call that reminds me that I have no life.” She pushed the sandwich away. “I’m just feeling sorry for myself. Ignore me.”
Ignoring her wasn’t an option. “Is the condo sold?”
“Yes . . . no. That phone call is hanging in the sidelines, too. I’m in escrow, but we think it’s going to fall through.”
“Why?”
“The inspection found issues. I’ve been there trying to fix them or hire someone to help fix them. No one seems to want the work.”
“I understand that,” Luca said.
“I have backup offers. It will sell, it’s just going to take longer. And I want it behind me. I lied and told my dad it was already sold. I can’t have him thinking it’s an option to return there. It isn’t.”
“I’d do the same thing.”
“You would?” She looked his way, sounded surprised.
“If your father’s going to behave like a child, you can’t give him all the adult information. Does your dad have a way to leave?”
She narrowed her eyes. “He has the strength to wheel himself out of there.”
“And what? Roll to Upland? Does he have money or access to a credit card to hire a taxi?”
Brooke opened her mouth, then closed it. “Huh. No. I have all that.”
Luca patted the dashboard. “You’re driving his car, so he doesn’t have that. What about friends? Anyone stupid enough to pick him up and take care of him somewhere else?”
She shook her head. “He has friends, but none have been around much since he’s been sick. None stepped up to do much the last time, either.”
Luca felt he made his point. “So how exactly is your dad going to run away?”
“My father isn’t always known for making logical decisions. But I’m catching what you’re saying.”
“Chances are the heat of your father’s frustration has passed by now. And I’m going to guess that the home will call you if he attempts to leave.”
“They will.”
“So how about we go home. You take that long bath and a two-day nap and let some of this stuff you can’t control play out.”
Brooke looked like she wanted to argue, so Luca continued and didn’t let her speak. “Can you control the condo falling out of escrow?”
“No.”
“Can you sit on your father and make him stay put?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Silence his calls, take the ones from the home . . . and as Chloe would say, breathe.” As annoying as his baby sister was at times with all her yoga stuff, she’d be right in this situation. The only other suggestion Luca had was for Brooke to hand her phone to him and he’d be happy to field her calls for a day or two so the vein in her forehead could stop pulsating. Luca didn’t think she’d go for that.
“Can I do that?” she whispered.
“Tell me why you can’t.”
Brooke was quiet for a good minute, then she finally said, “You’re right. I can’t control him.”
She looked relieved just saying the words.
“What’s your dad’s name?”
“Joe Turner.”
Luca made several mental notes as he waited for Brooke to make a decision on whether to stay or leave.
She sighed. “We should go home.”
“Great idea.”
Their eyes met and Luca felt his heart rate speed up. She offered a soft smile, and damn, she was beautiful.
“Thank you, Luca. I’ve been so tunnel-visioned I can’t see anything.”
It took effort to not reach for her hand. “We’ve all been there.”
“You have?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“I’d like to hear about that.”
Luca wadded up the trash and tossed it in the to-go bag from the sandwich shop. “Another time.” He looked at her half-eaten lunch. “Are you going to eat that?”
She winced. “I have some great leftovers at home that are calling my name.”
“You didn’t eat it all?”
“There was enough for three people. I don’t know how you Italians stay so thin with all the pasta.”
He lifted the bag for her to dump her trash. “I’ll follow you.” Mainly to ensure she actually went home and didn’t change her mind.
“To make sure I go home,” she said, catching him.
He could lie . . . “Exactly.”
She sat forward, turned the key in the ignition. One last look at the home and she said, “Don’t do anything stupid, Dad.”
Luca smiled, got out of the car, and jogged to his.
She backed out of her space and waited. Her gaze caught his in the rearview mirror.
And the warmth in the pit of his stomach pulsed. “Oh, boy.”
Luca pulled into his space right beside Brooke, both of them exiting their cars at the same time. It was late enough that Gio should have picked up Franny, but early enough for him to help prep for the dinner rush. He glanced up and noticed a curtain moving inside his apartment. Someone was about to bombard him with questions, he felt that in his bones.
“I’m not used to this,” Brooke said as they walked toward the back door together.
“Used to what?”