Page 97 of Faith

“Maybe we should go back down to the cafeteria,” he said.

“Why?” Micah asked.

“You’re about to meet the reason why.” They turned the corner. There stood his mother, dressed as if she had just attended Queen Elizabeth’s tea party. Not one blonde hair was out of place. Her blue suit didn’t have a single wrinkle. And she was wearing hose and heels. So odd to see that in Hawaii.

Beside her stood his brother, who wore a wrinkled suite and looked ready to fall down. None of them—including their father—had ever been able to keep up with Lillian Wulf.

“Mother,” he said. His mother turned to him. That’s when he saw her worried expression and the dark circles beneath her eyes.

She rushed forward, his brother trailing behind her. “Jensen.”

She threw her arms around him, and he smelled it then. The familiar scent of Chanel No. 5. It was a scent he would always associate with his mother, and it always brought him comfort.

“I am so glad you are safe.”

She pulled back and then looked over at Micah.

“Mother, this is Micah Ross. He’s a friend.”

Micah held out his hand to her. When she put her hand in his, he brought it to his mouth and kissed it. “It is very nice to meet you, Mrs. Wulf.”

That slow, southern accent rolled over the words, and his mother actually blushed. His almost sixty-year-old mother.

“Stop that,” Jensen said.

“Who are you talking to?” Micah asked.

“Both of you. Go away, Ross.”

“Jensen,” his mother said, irritation and embarrassment filling her tone. “I will not have you behave so badly. Really.”

“No worries, Mrs. Wulf. I hope to see you before you leave our island.”

Once he stepped back on the elevator and the door closed, Jensen turned to his brother and mother. “What were you doing at the desk?”

“I couldn’t remember the hospital room number.”

He frowned and looked at Jakob. His eyes were barely opened.

“I sent you the room number via text.”

She was a woman who lived for details, who needed to be in control. For a long moment, he realized that was a quality that both she and Nicola shared. Still, it wasn’t forgetful. It wasn’t a big issue, but from the mortified look on her face, it was to her.

“I apologize.”

“No need.”

The only time she had gotten forgetful and scatterbrained was when their father had been sick.

He held out his arm. “What are you wearing?” she asked, taking it.

“These are scrubs. I didn’t have a choice because…my other clothes were ruined. Before we go in the room?—”

“Why were you out here and not in there with her?”

“The doctor wanted to examine her, and they chased me out. Now, I want your promise you won’t make a comment about the ring, and no more of this future daughter-in-law.”

“Why not?”