“Nah. It’s a cold. From what I hear, it’s really going around. Hey, why don’t you talk to that Braxton guy? Explain you want to do the job he’s paying you for, but that the builds are coming too fast and furious. He sounded like a good guy. He might understand.”
Gus could be right, but I prefer to table that discussion until it’s clear there’s no other choice.
“Okay, I need to go. I’ve got way too much to do before I head out. At least I’ll finally get this cast off soon.” I’d met with Dr. Davis last week, thrilled it was finally time. Only to have him recommend we hold off a little while longer. I guess given what I do for a living, it’s probably for the best if there’s any doubt. But I’m so ready to have my right hand back.
That was an annoying day. I’d flown home earlier than planned to go to my appointment, just to be kept waiting when he was pulled away unexpectedly. I tried to reason the same could’ve happened to patients in his office the day he came to see me in the emergency room. Yet, it’s hard to be understanding when you feel like you’re constantly trying to be three places at once.
I’d hoped I could see Harlow while I was there, but she and the boys had been with her mother. It’s been several weeks since we spent the night together. And while I miss her like crazy, work was requiring too much of my time to commit to seeing herand the boys. Not to mention, whenever I was home, she seemed to be working or at drill.
Even texts and late night pillow talk had been limited, given the dinner meetings in Miami and her working the late shift. Yet Harlow never complained. She was a single mom with two jobs and still seemed to manage life better than I could.
It’s a season, she’d said. Sometimes you work hard, other times you play hard. I’m still waiting for the playing hard days to arrive.
At least I’d been able to catch up with Matt and Ellie recently. We’d created a standing dinner date for each Monday night, unless my brother was at the firehouse. Not that he couldn’t chat there, but it was easier if there wasn’t the threat of tones going off in the middle of our conversation, signaling he had to respond on a call.
It was nice to catch up with them more regularly. On occasion, even their pot belly pig, Jimmy Dean, would join the conversation. I still can’t believe they packed him up and took him to Sycamore Mountain with them. But during our calls, they talked to him like a dog owner would talk to their Golden Retriever.
I admit it. I was jealous seeing Ellie’s cooking on their table during our video chats, knowing how long it’d been since I’d enjoyed her chicken.Char said if you came home and cooked enough food for us to freeze, she’d give you free hair treatments for life.I’d joked. Poor Ellie wanted to come back and visit her best friend, but the restaurant she and my brother had opened was a wild success. And no one can cook like she does. So, any trips back to Candy Cane Key would require them to close Elliot’s Hot Chicken whenever they returned. It was bad enough they felt guilty about not visiting more often. I certainly didn’t want to cause them to lose money by shutting the doors. Even if it was temporary.
There’s no use avoiding the inevitable. Matt will eventually marry Ellie and start their own family. And my relationship with him will change. I’ll see them on vacation or at Christmas. Long gone are the days of having family close by. It’s part of life. Everyone goes through it.
I miss my brother terribly. Especially when I’m away from home. I get a little of what I need through video chats with Matt, but it’s never the same as having family nearby. Or better yet, in your space. My existence is lonely without him and my mother. That connection to the two people I knew loved me unconditionally. They helped shape me into the man I am.
Even if Mom isn’t able to communicate like she once could, having her near makes me feel as if my house is a home. Otherwise, it’s merely a random building with a street number.
“All right, Harry. I’ll call you if I need anything.”
“You always do.” I chuckle.
Placing my phone back in my pocket, I return to the stacks of paperwork on my temporary desk and slide them into folders marked for each job site. This build didn’t seem as monumental when I thought there was an adequate timeline for each one.
Bzzz. Bzzz.
Reaching for my back pocket, I chuckle. “That didn’t take long.”
“Harry?” The smile falls from my face as Joyce’s worried tone comes through the line.
“Joyce? What’s wrong?”
“I think you need to come home.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
HARRISON
Rushing through the doors of Candy Cane Key Medical Center, I approach the volunteer desk. “Hi, I need Carolyn Hightower’s room, please.”
“Certainly, sir. Ah, I’ve got it right here. She’s in room 210.”
Not wanting to wait for the elevator, I dart into the stairwell and take the steps two at a time until I reach the second floor. Rushing down the hall, my head snaps back and forth until I find her room.
“Mom,” I blurt as I bust through her door like a bat out of hell.
“Shhh,” Joyce greets, her finger over her lips. “She’s resting.”
My eyes bounce back to my mother, seeming so frail in this hospital bed. “What did the doctor say?”
“They said it doesn’t look like a hip fracture, just a pelvic fracture.”