Page 5 of Truce Of The Matter

“Momma, you haven’t tried anything. At least eat the toast,” I plead. “If you do, you can be ready to go by the time Dad gets back.” My dad left right after the doctors to go home, shower, and change.

Being her normal stubborn self, she ignores me, places the spoon in her hand down, then asks, “Who opened this morning?”

“Momma, don’t worry about the restaurant. I took care of everything.”

“I know you did, but indulge me please. I want to think about something other than being bedridden.”

“You’re not bedridden,” I counter.

“For the next three weeks, I am, but thank God my baby will be home,” she says and I sigh, regret creeping in. I’ve been carrying it for so long that it’s starting to stifle me. I don’t know how much longer I can carry it.

“We need to talk before Daija gets here,” I say. My words heavy with my thoughts.

“Not now, Truce. What’s done is done and this is definitely not the time to discuss this. It changes nothing.”

“It changes everything for me, Ma,” I counter.

“Let it go,” she says, raising her voice, getting visibly agitated. She pushes the food tray away then falls back on her pillow. “When does your sister get here? Go check on that.”

And just like that, the subject is once again closed. A decision was made for me years ago and today is just reinforcement of that decision. Simply because of our location and her condition, I let it go. After pushing her tray back to her, I stand.

“I need some coffee. Try to eat while I’m gone,” I tell her then leave the room.

I need more than coffee though. I need space and air to clear my head. When I pass the nurses’ station, I inform them that I’m stepping out then practically run off the floor. Bypassing the elevators, I opt for the stairs. Thankfully, I’m wearing my UGGs because I bolt down them, taking some two at a time. When I make it down to the ground level, I slam my hands on the pushrail and when the door flies open, it hits who or what’s on the other side.

“Damn!” a deep baritone grunts.

“My bad! I’m so sorry,” I say as I cautiously push the door open. When I step out, I see him… Rex Goode.

“Miss Redmond,” he says, sounding as surprised as I am.

Of all people to run into, it’s him. And God, he looks good. A black hoodie, black sweats, and Timbs are pure perfection on this man.

“Truce,” I correct him.

Although I know who he is, he and I have never had any non-Redmond’s interaction and definitely no interactions on a personal level. His picture is even on the wall of the restaurant, so of course, I’m aware of who he is.

“Rex,” he says. “But are you okay?”

“I slammed the door into you. I should be asking if you’re okay. Are you?”

“I’m good. You missed me. The door flying open like that just caught me off guard.”

A low but sexy chuckle falls from his full lips then there’s silence. Neither of us are speaking but we are both staring, my neck craned up to reach his handsome face. I consider myself to be a fairly tall woman at five foot eight but he’s towering over me by at least a foot and he’s leaning down, meeting my glance with his intense one. And to make this even more intense, his cologne is entrancing. Thankfully, my phone breaks the silence and keeps me from folding under his stare. I reach into my jean pocket and pull it out. It’s Daija.

“Sorry. I have to take this,” I tell him and practically run from him, his mesmerizing eyes, and that damn cologne. When I hear the door close, I answer her. “Hey. Are you on the plane?” I ask because she’s not scheduled to land for fifteen more minutes.

“No. I’m here. We landed early and I didn’t check a bag.”

“Oh. Good. Ma hasn’t been transported yet and I’m still at the hospital. Take an iDrive here.”

“Daddy’s getting me.”

“What? Why? He stayed at the hospital all night and he’s home showering and resting.”

“He’s already coming. I called him as soon as I touched down and he said he would come get me. He left already.”

“Daija!” I exclaim.

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