For Mason, money was a tool, not a
goal. And when he had to get from a remote mountain town to an international
airport, he was glad he had plenty of it. Within a few hours of the aborted
ash-sprinkling, the three of them were in the first-class lounge at
Christchurch Airport, booked on a flight to New York. From there, they’d take a
private plane up to Avalon, north toward Albany, along the Hudson. He’d
instructed his assistant to find an amphibious plane so they could land on
Willow Lake and tie up at the dock in front of their mother’s place.
The entire journey would take about twenty-four
hours. Thanks to the time zone change, they would arrive the same day they
left. The journey cost in the neighborhood of thirty grand, which he paid
without batting an eye. It was only money. Mason had a knack for making money
the way some guys made wooden birdhouses in their garages over the weekend.
Adam was on the phone with someone in Avalon. “We’re
on our way,” he said. Then he checked the clock in the lounge. “We’ll get there
when we get there. Yeah, okay, just sit tight.”
“Did you get more details out of them?” Mason
asked.
“She fell down the stairs and broke her
collarbone,” Adam said, and zipped the mobile phone into his pocket. “It’s a
miracle she didn’t crack open her head or get crushed by her motorized chair.”
“I can’t believe she fell,” Ivy said, her voice
trembling.
“And what the hell was she doing at the top of a
flight of stairs?” Mason asked. “The entire downstairs of the house has been
adapted for her.”
“If you bothered to go see her more than once in a
blue moon, you’d know they finished installing the elevator,” Adam stated. He
was in charge of her day-to-day care, living on the premises of the lakeside
estate. Mason had taken the role of looking after provisions, finance and
logistics for their mother, a role more suited to his comfort zone.
Mason batted aside his brother’s criticism. “Screw
that. I don’t get how the hell she managed to fall down the stairs. She’s a
quadriplegic in a wheelchair. She’s incapable of moving.”
“She can move her mouth and drive the chair with
her breath,” Ivy pointed out. “She’s been working with her physical therapist
on extending her arms at the elbow, so that can help with her mobility, too.”
“I don’t get why she was upstairs, either,” Mason
said. His heart was pounding so hard that his chest hurt. He and his mother had
their differences, but when it came down to moments like this, he felt nothing
but love and sorrow. And now a surge of panic.
“You’re sure she’s all right?” Ivy asked, bringing
a tray of cappuccinos and croissants to the seating area where they were
waiting.
“Other than her usual state of rage and
bitterness, yeah,” said Adam. “She’s okay.”
“Jesus.” Mason raked his splayed hand through his
hair.
“No, the caregiver on duty was named José.” Adam
consulted the email displayed on his phone.
“Fire the son of a bitch,” Mason ordered.
“I didn’t have to,” Adam said. “He quit. They all
quit. None of her home health aides have lasted more than a few weeks.”
“He couldn’t have stopped it,” Ivy pointed out. “According
to Mrs. Armentrout, Mom took the elevator upstairs without telling anyone.”
“Armentrout? The housekeeper?” asked Mason. “Then
she should be fired, too.”
“You’re the one who hired her,” Adam pointed out.
“My assistant hired her. With my approval.”
“She needs assistance, not to be under
surveillance,” Ivy said.
“Maybe she does, if she’s sneaking upstairs.”
Mason spent more time than anyone imagined thinking about their mother. On that
day a year ago, their father had suffered the ultimate tragedy. Everyone—himself
included—said their mother was lucky to be alive.
She didn’t consider herself lucky, though. From
the moment she had been told the spinal injury meant she would never walk again—much
less ski, salsa dance, cliff dive, run a triathlon or even drive a car—she had
raged against her fate. Anyone who dared to mention to her face that she was
lucky to be alive risked a tongue lashing.
After multiple surgeries, drug therapies and
intensive rehab, Alice had agreed to move to Avalon to settle into her new life
as a widow and a quadriplegic, determined to find what independence she could.
Avalon was the town where Adam lived, on the shores of the prettiest lake in
Ulster County, just a couple of hours by train from New York City.
***
I can tell you right now I'm really excited to read this book and review it for you. Stay tuned, because not only will I have a review for you, but you'll have a chance to win a copy for your very own!
1 comment:
The excerpt got me hooked - I'm intrigued!
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