Uncle Tad smiled as he draped a frail arm around her shoulders.
“You have no idea how glad I am to see you’re safely back, sweetheart.”
She inwardly cringed. “I thought you were friends with Mac and Sully?”
He looked startled, then laughed. “Honey, I trust them with your life. I meant you’re back in Tarpon.” She loved how he said it, like the old local he was, pronounced “Tar-pawn” instead of “Tarpin” as others said it.
It finally sank in that she’d made it home.
An angry glare shadowed his face. “How bad did the asshole hurt you?”
She blushed and looked away. “I’m okay, Uncle Tad.”
He snorted in disgust. “You don’t need to wear makeup on my account. I talked with Sully about it yesterday. You kids think I’m gonna pop a gasket if I get excited or something. You’re as bad as those boys are.”
He leaned back on the couch and muted the TV. “Let me tell you something. Maybe I’m not as strong or fast as I used to be, but there’s not a thing wrong with my mind. If you even so much as think about leaving Sully and Mac, I’ll hunt you down and kick your ass myself, little girl. Do I make myself clear? Promise me you’ll stay with them.”
The heat in her face blossomed to supernova proportions. “Yes, sir. I promise.”
He laughed. “Good. Glad to see you still listen to me. You have breakfast yet? What am I saying, of course you did. Mac woulda made you eat something.” He sighed. “Wish I could give you a better homecoming, little girl.”
She didn’t mind the endearment. It was what he and Aunt Karen had both called her, because they didn’t have kids of their own.
They talked most of the morning until a soft knock on his door interrupted them.
“Come in, goddammit!” he hollered.
Clarisse giggled, glad to see her beloved uncle’s spirit still firmly intact even if his body failed him.
A young woman opened the door. “Mr. Moore? I’ve got that paperwork ready for your niece to sign. Can I borrow her for a few minutes?”
“Hi, Cindy.” He poked Clarisse’s shoulder. “Go with her. They’ve got the forms ready adding you as my next of kin and stuff. I’ll be here.”
Clarisse followed the friendly, chatty clerk down a series of hallways to the administrative wing, where Cindy led her to a cubicle and indicated the chair in front of her desk. She pulled out a sheaf of paperwork and showed Clarisse where to sign. Some of the paperwork had to do with guaranteeing payment. Clarisse noticed Sully had already filled out and signed some of it.
Clarisse blushed. “Can you explain this to me? What happens if his insurance or whatever runs out? I’m not working yet. Is there a government program or something that would pay his bill?”
“Oh, I doubt that’ll be an issue. It’s mostly a formality.”
“You don’t know my luck.”
Cindy frowned. “I figured Mr. Nicoletto discussed this with you already.”
“Discussed what?”
“Your uncle’s insurance pays only a portion. Mr. Nicoletto pays the rest. He paid the apartment lease fees up front when your uncle moved in, and he takes care of the difference in expenses every month.”
Clarisse’s hand felt numb as she shakily signed the paperwork.
“He does?”
“Yes. Oh, and he asked us not to tell your uncle that. Mr. Moore is under the impression his insurance and Medicaid pays for it all.”
Mac returned for Clarisse a little after noon. She’d already eaten with her uncle, had fixed them both BLT sandwiches while she struggled to hold a conversation under the weight of her new knowledge. She had asked Cindy for a look at her uncle’s records, since she was being added as secondary guarantor of funds.
Sully and Mac were the ones who found this place for Tad and got him admitted. By her best guess, Sully had spent more than fifty grand on the initial apartment condo fee, guaranteeing that her uncle in essence “owned” his little efficiency, in addition to fifteen hundred dollars in care expenses he paid every month. That meant around one hundred thousand dollars to date.
How would she ever earn that kind of money to repay him? And how the hell would she ever find a job that paid good enough to support herself as well as pay for her uncle’s care?
The thought overwhelmed her. She struggled not to cry. She felt guilty that Sully had spent all that money on her uncle when she should have been living here with him, taking care of him. Her inheritance would have paid for the apartment fees and some of his care.
If Mac noticed her disquiet, he didn’t mention it. She offered to help him schlep the groceries upstairs, but he refused. She disappeared to her room and closed the door behind her to think in private.
Sully walked downstairs to talk to Mac when he realized Clarisse had closed herself in her bedroom. “How is she?”
Mac shook his head. “I don’t know. She seemed awful quiet when I picked her up.”
Later that evening, before dinner, Sully left his office door open.
He sensed Clarisse’s presence in the doorway even before she spoke.
“Am I interrupting you?” she quietly asked.
He turned and smiled. “No, sweetie. That’s okay. Come on in.”
She didn’t move from the doorway. “Can I speak to you alone?”
“Of course.”
Hesitantly, she stepped just inside and pulled the door shut and leaned against it, but she didn’t approach him. It killed him that she couldn’t trust him but he knew he couldn’t force it.
“I wanted to say thank you. For taking care of Uncle Tad.”
He mentally swore. He’d meant to tell Cindy not to reveal the payment arrangement to Clarisse. It had totally slipped his mind.
“Tad’s like family.”
She wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I’ll figure out a way to pay you back somehow. I promise.”
He struggled to keep his tone soft and steady despite his aggravation threatening to break through. Goddamn her ex for destroying her trust. “You don’t need to do that. I don’t want your money.”
She shook her head. An edge of anxiety crept into her voice. “No.
He’s my uncle. He’s my responsibility.”
Sully didn’t have the heart to correct her, to remind her she had jack shit and a raging case of PTSD to overcome. She was in no condition to take care of herself, much less Tad. “Clarisse, honey, it’s okay. Don’t stress it. Please. Tad will always be taken care of. I promise you.”
Her hair hid her eyes, but he didn’t miss the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I will pay you back,” she softly promised again before she slipped out the door.
Before he made it to the office doorway, he heard her bedroom door softly close. When he walked down the hall with every intention of knocking and talking to her, he heard her muffled sobs on the other side.
Mac, his instincts finely tuned as ever, quickly appeared in the hallway entrance, a dark frown on his face. “What’s wrong?”
Sully shook his head, lifted a finger to his lips, and waited until he led Mac downstairs to talk about it.
Mac sat on the bottom step, his head cradled in his hands.
“Dammit. I want to help her. I want to strangle the son of a bitch with my own hands. What do we do?”
“Nothing, for now. I just wanted you to know what’s going on with her. That’s why she acted so quiet when you picked her up.” He started to mount the stairs, but Mac reached out and touched Sully’s leg.
“When you said she could stay with us as long as she needed, you meant that, right?”
Sully sat on the riser next to Mac and draped an arm around his shoulders. “Yes, I meant it. It’ll be good for Tad to have her around.”
He gently shook him. “And I don’t have the patience to have you running back and forth a dozen times a day to wherever she might move to make sure she’s okay.”