Page 28 of Stone Vows

I stop at Elizabeth’s door before I enter her room. I’m awestruck by what I see. I was wrong, blue is not her color. It’s green. Definitely green.

I’m assuming she’s wearing something Mallory brought her yesterday. It’s hot today, and she’s not beneath the bed sheet, so I can pretty much see her from head to toe. Her tanned legs are crossed at the ankles and I follow the shapeliness of them until my eyes meet the frayed hem of the sleeping shorts she’s wearing. The matching top is riding up on her stomach where the monitor is strapped around her, showing off the flesh of her ribs. The top, also frayed at the hem, boasts a pattern of hearts over her left breast.

I finish my perusal of her when my gaze reaches her face, where I find her eyes glued to the television.

“Yes!” she yells suddenly, causing me to jump out of my skin.

Having been pulled out of my trance, I finally cross the threshold into her room. I look up at the TV to see what’s so exciting. Baseball scores. She’s excited over baseball scores.

Her eyes flitter briefly to mine and she smiles before focusing on the screen once again. “Highlights are next,” she says. “Want to watch them with me?”

“Sure.” I put the cups and spoons on the table next to her bed and sit down in the chair.

We silently watch the highlight reels of yesterday’s baseball games. I’m about to say something, when she sits up suddenly and cheers.

“Oh, my God, did you see that? That was a double play!” she squeals, her face beaming.

The reel plays two or three more times because I guess it’s a contender for their play of the week. A catcher for the New York Nighthawks dances backwards, tripping over the umpire to get to a high-tipped foul ball, catching it before throwing it to second base to get out the runner, who apparently didn’t think the catcher would get to the ball, so he was just walking back to the base.

“Impressive,” I say.

The program goes on to show highlights of other MLB games and Elizabeth becomes uninterested, turning the volume down before she notices the Jell-O cups stacked on the tray table. She questions me with raised brows.

“For round two,” I say. “Unless you’ve already picked your favorite.”

She smiles sadly. “I haven’t, but I’m not sure I’m up for that game again.”

Damn. I did go too far with the whole married question. But it makes me wonder just what’s going on with her. Was she upset because sheismarried, or because sheisn’t?

“Not to worry, I’ll go easy on you.” I nod to a robe tossed over the back of the chair. “Now let’s get your robe on, I’m breaking you out of this popsicle stand.”

“Really?” Her blue eyes light up.

God, I’m going to miss those amazing blue eyes in three and a half weeks.

Wait . . . what the hell, Kyle? She’s your patient. You’re with Gina.

You are with Gina, right?

“The wheelchair you requested, Dr. Stone,” Abby says, bringing it to Elizabeth’s bedside. Then she walks around her bed and takes the blood pressure cuff out of the basket and proceeds to place it on Elizabeth’s arm. “If you’re going on an outing, we need to make sure you’re all good. And you should visit the bathroom first to make sure you aren’t bleeding.”

“Slave driver,” I say to Abby with a wink.

After Elizabeth uses the bathroom, I hand her the lightweight robe from the chair. “This is nice,” I say, running my hand over the soft material.

“I know, right?” she says. “Your sister-in-law gave it to me, along with this sleeper set and a few nightgowns. She said your mother spoils her and she had too many to wear. She even brought me a few books on what to do when you’re bedridden during pregnancy. I like her. She seems pretty great.”

“Mallory is one of the good ones,” I say. “You know, I have another sister-in-law who would love to visit you as well. And a few friends of mine, three sisters actually, who could keep you company.”

I help her into the wheelchair and then hand her the spoons and the Jell-O.

“I’m not a charity case, Kyle.” She looks up at me in a huff. “Oh, my God, did you tell them I’m homeless? I’m not, you know. I have a place. It’s nothing special, but at least it’s mine.”

A wave of relief courses through me knowing she wasn’t living on the streets.

“I didn’t tell them anything, Elizabeth. There are rules, you know. But when I was having dinner with Mallory and my brother last night, she mentioned how much she thought you were like her group of friends. Said you’d probably fit right in. She thought maybe they could each come meet you, you know, to break up the monotony. Keep you from going stir crazy.”

“I guess it might be nice to have some visitors,” she says as I wheel her into the hallway.

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