Carla Cassidy

Her Secret, His Duty


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she said, a bright smile on her youthful face.

      “Hey, where’s the boss?” he asked.

      “She mentioned a bit of a headache and went up to her room a little while ago. Is there something I can help you with?” Haley asked with the overeagerness of a young woman wanting to prove her worth.

      “No, thanks, I think I’ll just head up to check on her.” With a wave of his hand he headed for the wooden spiral staircase in the entry that would take him to the bedrooms located on the second floor. He could have used the small elevator located just beneath the stairs, but he preferred the exercise of walking up.

      When he reached the top of the stairs he continued down the long hallway, passing bedrooms and baths on either side and finally reaching his mother’s doorway at the end of the hall. He knocked and heard her say, “Come in.”

      When he opened the door she was seated in one of the two plush white chairs that formed a sitting area complete with fireplace and French doors that led to an upper-deck patio. At the far end of the room her white-canopied bed was visible through double doors that could be closed at night.

      She smiled in surprise. “I didn’t expect it to be you. I thought it might be Myra—she’s bringing me up some hot tea. Would you like me to ring her to bring you a cup, too?”

      “No, thanks, I just had coffee with Debra.” He sank into the chair next to hers. “Are you doing okay? Haley said you had a headache.”

      She waved a hand as if to dismiss the idea. “Just a little one. I decided to escape the office and come up here to do a little thinking away from everyone else and any distractions.”

      “Have you come to a decision?”

      She shook her head. “No, and I think that’s what’s giving me my headache. How did things go with you and Debra? Weren’t you two getting together to talk about menus and such?”

      “I just finished up with her. She’d definitely on top of things. We’ve now settled on the floor plan and a tentative menu for the evening.” He paused a moment and then continued. “She’s going to get the invitations out tomorrow and find an orchestra, but I really didn’t come up here to talk about all that. I stopped last night and had a visit with Grandma.”

      Kate sat up a little taller in her chair. “How was she doing? I’m planning on visiting her this Sunday.”

      Trey frowned. “To be honest, I’m a little worried about her.”

      “Worried how?” Kate leaned forward and rubbed the center of her forehead as if he’d definitely made her head ache a little more.

      “Maybe now isn’t a good time to talk about it,” Trey said sympathetically.

      At that moment a knock sounded at the door and Myra entered with a tray holding a cup of tea and sugar and lemon wedges. She placed it on the dainty table between the two chairs. “Is there anything else you need?” she asked Kate first and then looked at Trey who shook his head.

      “We’re fine, Myra, thank you.” She waited until Myra had left the room and then stirred a spoonful of sugar into the cup of green tea. She squeezed a lemon slice and placed the wedge on the side of the saucer. “Now, where were we?”

      “I was saying that if you have a headache, then maybe we should have this conversation another time.”

      “We’ll have it now,” Kate replied and lifted her cup to her lips.

      “Okay, she seemed fine when I first arrived. She’d eaten dinner in the dining room and had played bingo during the day, but Sassy told me when I arrived that she’d been a bit anxious throughout the evening. Initially the visit went fine, but when I mentioned to her my plans for the Senate and your possible plans to run for president, she went crazy.”

      Kate lowered her cup with a frown. “What do you mean by that? Went crazy how?”

      “She starting pacing and screaming no and muttering about secrets and lies. I mean, she was so upset Sassy had to give her a sedative. I’m not even sure she knew who I was when she was having her tirade.” Trey paused to draw a breath, to get the strength to tell his mother what really worried him. “I think maybe she’s getting dementia.”

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