And Ryker had become just that, his success casting Kate into an ever-widening shadow, at least as far as her myopic mother was concerned. Kate used to tell herself that her mother just couldn’t handle what her daughter was going through, so it was easier to bury her head in the sand. Mom avoided her like a plague blanket. But the truth was, it had always been like this. Hope for a change in their relationship was a waste of time and energy, neither of which she had in great supply.

“I assumed you’d be fine by now,” her mother said, an edge to her voice.

“I was in the hospital for five days because my lungs filled with fluid.”

“But you’re not there now.”

Kate pulled the phone away from her ear and gave a silent scream. She took a deep breath. “My doctor says the pneumonia set my timetable back to the fall to get my hip replacements. The don’t want me anywhere near anesthesia until my lungs have repaired themselves.”

“I don’t understand why he says you need new hips. You can walk.”

That got Kate’s blood boiling. “Sure, I walk like a cripple who gets lapped by geriatrics. I kinda would like to be a little more stable.”

Her mother sighed into the phone. “Why risk it with surgery? It’s not like you go out all that often.”

That was the breaking point. Instead of yelling, Kate said, “Just be thankful all this crap skipped you and went into me, Mom. Not everyone gets to live their lives with blinders on.”

Silence.

It was her mother’s ultimate defense. When met with resistance, it was better to just sit there, mute as a fish.

“Thanks for calling. I’ll be sure to alert the news when Ryker gets in touch with me.”

“There’s no reason to take that tone, Kate.”

“I’m sure you think that.”

“Don’t get all huffy with me. It’s not like you call me, either.”

Grinding her molars, Kate replied, “I was so sick, I could barely breathe, much less talk. And you knew that because Andrew called and left a message, which you never returned.”

And here came the silence again.

“Look, Mom, I gotta get my clothes out of the washer.”

“Oh good, you’re feeling up to doing the laundry. See, I knew you were fine.”

Kate disconnected the call before she could say something she would regret…or relish. Throwing the phone at a pillow, she struggled to get up, Buttons now at her heels. It was one thing to be chronically ill. It was another not to have the caring, sympathy, and attention of your own mother. She didn’t wish it on her worst enemy.

Something crashed in the kitchen. Kate’s heart fluttered, and she got dizzy and thumped back onto the daybed. Buttons barked at the kitchen, his tail tucked between his legs.