Page 214 of Black Bird

“Well, I’m just trying to help you. They’ll be in here any minute with your discharge papers, and you’ve spent the last few hours sleeping! Maybe that’s why your head hurts. You want me to go ask them if you can have something else?”

“Only if you’re sending them back by themselves.”

Peggy Vintorri was a force to be reckoned with. She could cut diamonds with the glares she often gave Wren’s father, and not many people deigned to talk to her quite the way Wren did. She gave one of those glares to her as Wren lifted her eyes to meet hers. “You gonna be like this the whole ride to Andover?”

“I already told you; I’m not going.”

“You told us you’d spend Christmas at the house, Wren. If you’d been up there at Thanksgiving, this might not have ever happened!”

“I told you I’d spend Christmas with youbeforeall this happened. I told you not to even come down here, Ma. The‘coulda, shoulda, woulda’s’are pretty pointless at this juncture. Sarah will be here in an hour. I don’t need you to stay.”

Peggy’s eyes teared, and she slid the bag over, sitting slowly on the edge of the bed. “I know things haven’t been easy between us, Wren.” She stared forward at the window to the hall, and sniffled. “I think about that fight we had all the time. I know I made too big of a deal about your choices, and your job … but—I just …” her voice broke into a quiet sob, and she put a knuckle to her mouth. Wren fought back her urge to reach for her. “We were one of the last to know that you’d been taken. I thought—” She shook her head and wept.

“It’s alright, Mom.I’malright.” That fight dwindled, and Wren leaned forward, grabbing Peggy’s hand. “Can you just give me some time to get my life back on track, please? God knows how many makeup sales I missed, or how many lonely guys have been waiting for me to bounce back so I could slither into their bed.”

“Wren Vintorri!” Peggy snapped, jerking her face towards her. Wren grinned and winked at her with her good eye. Her mother snorted and wiped her nose as she softly smiled. “I just want you to be safe. I know you have to grow up and become your own person, Wren. You’ll never know how hard it is to let go until—”

“Until I make a gremlin of my own, I know.” Wren squeezed her hand and offered her a smirk. “I’ll be fine. If I promise to spend a weekend up there in a few weeks, would you finally stop worrying about me and leave?”

“You don’t have to be so snappy about it.”

“I wonder who I get that from?” Wren smiled, rolling one eye.

Peggy shifted on the bed, raising herself from it and straightening her long sweater. “You make sure that girl drives safely. I’m still mad with her.”

“Nothing about it is her fault, and she's not driving. Maybe you’ll feel better if I tell you I’m getting picked up by her detective boyfriend?”

“The one on the news? God, Wren … the people you hang around.”

“Bye, Mother.”

Peggy started to say something else as she shouldered her ugly purse, but stopped when a soft knock at the door interrupted them. She turned and answered, and her hand pressed against her chest. “Oh, my gosh! Bless your heart, sir … I didn’t think I’d get to talk to you this soon!” Wren’s heart skipped when Brent rolled himself into the open doorway in awheelchair. She pressed herself into the bed. Peggy leaned down without permission and hugged him around his neck, crying again. “Thank you … thank you so much.”

“Ma!” Wren yelled. “Good …bye.”

She huffed, wiping her face and all but stomped her foot at Wren before sniffling and scooting past Brent on her way out. He turned his chin over his shoulder to watch her head down the hall, and then made a face at Wren.

“Please don’t. I’ve had quite enough conversation fromandabout her for one fucking day.” He grinned at her and cracked the door nearly closed as he wheeled himself over, also making a point to close her blinds from prying eyes in the hall.

“You kinda look like her.”

“If you’re trying to get on my good side today, that’s far from it.” She shuffled from under her blanket and swiveled her legs around the edge of the bed. “What are you doing in here, anyway? I’m honestly shocked to see you wheeling yourself around.”

“I got an interesting Christmas gift from one of Santa’s little helpers. I wanna show you something.”

“Anybody ever tell you you’re cringe-worthy, Brent?” He turned the chair and backed it against the window, securing the brakes.

“Yeah,youdo. All the time. You gonna help me?” He threw the blanket off his lap and reached for her hand. Wren sighed, sliding off the bed and helping him stand up. He took it slow and winced a little at some obvious pain but steadied himself enough to pull open the ties on the side of his hospital gown.

Wren’s eye widened and she looked up at him nervously. “Uhh … what are you—what are you doing?”

“Relax …” Brent smirked, making sure his junk was covered before sliding the opening of the gown to his middle. Wren swallowed hard and hesitantly looked down to where he’d peeled his bandages off. “Look.”

“What the f—how?” She leaned in, and his gunshot wound was mostly closed, healing unbelievably well … and unbelievablyfast. She shot her eyes back up to his. “Did Sarah—”

“Yes, and no. It was Annie.”

“That kid?”

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