He was too ornery to get sick.

But it was as she’d feared when she’d heard West’s voice earlier over the phone.

“Oh…” She set down her glass, put her hand over her mouth.

“It’s progressed faster than I thought it would. In a matter of months he’s gone from being forgetful to downright belligerent and disoriented.”

“Oh…”

Now she was repeating herself like an idiot. She needed to come up with something helpful to say, but she was shocked senseless.

“Mom, sit down.” West took her by the elbow, guiding her out of the kitchen and into the family room.

She lowered herself onto the couch, and he sat next to her.

“Do you need some water?”

“Alzheimer’s disease,” she murmured, the diagnosis sounding completely absurd to her ears still.

West went to the kitchen, filled a glass with tap water and brought it to her. She took a halfhearted sip and set the glass aside.

“I know it’s a shock. It’s taken me a while to accept it myself. And I really thought we’d have more time before he’d get so…bad.”

“Who’s caring for him?” Julia finally found the sense to ask.

“We’ve had home-health nurses coming in for the past few months, but he keeps chasing them off. That’s why I moved up my vacation time-so I could come here and try to get him some reliable care.”

“You’ve known about this since the summer and haven’t told me? Your brothers have known? No one’s said a word.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t ready to talk about it, and we all thought we had more time.”

“Oh, dear Lord, West. I’m so sorry, too. I never thought I’d live to see the day your father couldn’t take care of himself.”

There. She’d said something appropriate, something sympathetic, but it didn’t begin to reveal the torrent of feelings threatening to choke her right now.

From the kitchen a buzzer sounded, reminding her that the tri-tip roast was done. “Let me get that before it burns,” she said as she stood and headed for the other room.

“Need some help?”

“Sure, I think we could use the distraction. Can you chop some mushrooms?”

West rummaged in the fridge while she took the roast out of the oven, grateful for a chance to process the news about her ex-husband for a moment in private.

John.

Not her ex-husband. His name was John, and it was high time she let go of the past, wasn’t it?

She hadn’t ever been one to dwell there, but now she saw that John as he was at the time they divorced had become frozen in her mind. To her, he was still the same arrogant, forceful, infuriating man, the same age-ten years her senior-same appearance…

They didn’t see each other often. Promise, with a population over seven thousand, was just big enough to keep an ex-husband from underfoot. She might see him in passing once or twice a year, and the last time had been nearly a year ago at her oldest son’s house, when John had been arriving as she was leaving. He’d seemed normal then, strong and unyielding as ever.

Alzheimer’s disease…

The feelings finally caught in her throat, and she dropped the pot holder next to the roasting pan on the stove and excused herself to the bathroom.

Once inside the guest bath, she burst into silent, heaving tears.

This made no sense. She didn’t love John anymore, did she? She didn’t miss him-never had in all the years they’d been apart.

But she had, once upon a time, loved him enough to think they’d spend their whole lives together, right up until the end. She’d once believed their marriage vows with all her heart, and when she’d imagined their future, she had often pictured them growing old together, keeping each other company in their final years. She’d believed they would take care of each other in their old age.

Wasn’t that one of the reasons for marrying? Wasn’t it a benefit of all the trouble, heartache and compromise?

And here they were, in their so-called golden years, alone. Not taking care of each other at all, but instead, virtual strangers trying not to peer in the windows of each other’s lives.

This, unexpectedly, hurt like hell.

She had to pull herself together before West started wondering what was wrong. She dabbed her wet eyes with toilet paper, blew her nose, then looked in the mirror to see how wrecked she was. Blotchy skin, red nose, glassy eyes.

Good thing she kept a spare bag of makeup in here. She touched herself up then headed back to the kitchen to face her son.

She was being terribly selfish, worrying so much about her own feelings when her sons were the ones who would suffer the most. They were losing their father right before their eyes. West, the most sensitive of all the boys-though he’d die to have it pointed out-would be hit hardest of all. Had been hit hardest, whether he realized it yet or not.

She needed to be strong for him.

In the kitchen, he was standing in front of the stove, his head bent as he peered into a skillet. His profile had looked the same his entire life. Even when he’d first come out of her womb, she had a frozen image of his newborn baby head in profile, same as it was today. Strong brow and nose, wide, observant eyes staring out at the world…

“Hey, I hope you wanted these mushrooms sautéed,” West said when he looked over at her. “They’re almost done.”

“Oh, thank you.” She turned her attention to the salad.

“Hey, Mom?”

“Yes?”

“The stuff about Dad, it’s not the only big news I have.”

Julia’s stomach knotted. This was West, the one who tried so hard to please her and his father. It wasn’t like him to bring bad news.

“What is it?”

His expression wavered somewhere between grim and hopeful.

Oh, dear.

“Do you remember Soleil Freeman? The woman I was seeing in the summer?”

“Of course I know Soleil-she’s in my book group. She’s lovely.”

“She is, yeah. I’m glad you like her because she’s going to be a bigger part of our lives in the future.”

Oh?

“Well, that’s a good thing, I hope?”

West still looked grim. “I’m not sure if you know she’s pregnant.”

“She is?”

“Yes, five and a half months along.”

“I hadn’t heard. Maybe that’s why she hasn’t been to the book group lately.”

“Mom…” His face paled. “I’m the father of the baby.”

Julia almost didn’t comprehend what he was saying. She took the news as if he was telling her he was the prime minister of Neptune.

“But…how…”

No, that was ridiculous to say. Of course she knew how. She just didn’t know how her eminently responsible son could be saying these words to her now.

Then it struck her. This was life. Bad things happened to good people, and good things happened to good people, and this…This news-Soleil and West having a baby together-regardless of the how or why of it, was one of the good things.

Julia smiled, closed the distance between herself and her son and embraced him.

“Congratulations, West. I’m very happy for you-for all of us.”

West hugged her back stiffly, then pulled away to look into her eyes. “Really?”

“Of course I am. It’s a baby! What could be happier than that?”

He shook his head. “I’m still in shock. I don’t know how to feel.”

She took his hand in hers and gave it a few pats. “How long have you known about the baby?”

“I found out today.”

“I’m glad you told me right away. I needed some good news.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking paler by the second.

“This is quite a shock for you, isn’t it?”

West put down the spatula, turned off the burner and slumped against the counter. The last of his ability to hold himself together had finally been chipped away, apparently, because his expression was grimmer than she’d seen it in years.

“That’s an understatement,” he said, sounding more lighthearted than he looked.

“I suppose she wanted to deliver the news in person, and that’s why she didn’t let you know sooner?”

West shook his head. “I have no idea. I’m furious that she didn’t tell me right away, and I’m…I’m in shock.”

“Of course you are.” Julia took her son by the arm. “Why don’t you sit? I’ll get our dinner on some plates so we can eat.”

He returned to the counter and sat, then took a drink of his wine.

“Just remember, she’s probably terrified. Being pregnant alone is no easy road to travel.”

“She doesn’t have to be alone,” he said defensively.

“No, but that’s not how it feels to her right now. She’s the one with the baby growing inside her.” But this wasn’t what West needed to hear right now.

Julia bit her lip and tried to think what her son did need to hear.

He glared at his wineglass and said nothing.

“West, you know, I’m going to be here to support you no matter what. Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?”

He shook his head. “I wish I knew.”

“You and Soleil-I didn’t think you were continuing your relationship.”

“Well, we weren’t. Or I mean, we aren’t, exactly. I really don’t know what’s going to happen, but…”

“You really like her, don’t you?”

“I do, and I’m thinking we should raise the child together, if she’s willing.”

From what Julia knew of Soleil, that was a big if. She was one of the most fiercely independent, unconventional women Julia had ever met, and her comments during their discussion of Kate Chopin’s classic The Awakening made it clear she considered drowning the happiest ending possible for the female main character who faced being unhappily trapped in a marriage.

“That’s a lovely sentiment. Are you sure?” Julia said gently.

“I am.” He gave her one of those looks reminiscent of the teen years, meant to communicate that she was out of her mind.

“I only mean to suggest, Soleil’s a strong-willed woman with her own mind about things. You may want to consider taking your time, letting this news sink in, before charging ahead with a plan of action.”