Page 71 of Hard Hat Hottie

My mind wanders back to the beautiful redhead I’d seen with Harrison in the bar. The same one who visited him in the ER the day he fell. Why had I never inquired about her? Had Harrison’s friend painted Carolyn’s nails red?

Reaching into my bag, I feel around blindly in the bottom of my tote. I swear I remember putting a bottle in here. “Yes,” I blurt as I bring the bright red nail polish up to eye level. “Would you like me to paint your nails?”

Again, blank stare. “Is that a yes?” Should I go ahead? I guess if she doesn’t hold still, I’ll stop.

Leaning toward her bedside table, I retrieve a few tissues. Once I’ve lowered the bed railing, I carefully place her hand on a Kleenex before opening the small bottle. I purse my lips, carefully applying the bright glossy finish to her index finger. Her nails are so small. It barely takes more than one swipe to cover it completely, two at most. I’m shocked how still she’s sitting, letting me paint each nail with care.

My last visit to see her had left me with mixed emotions. While she seemed to be doing better than I’d expected to find her, Harrison was not. I tried to remind myself that he’s been overwhelmed with guilt over not being here for her now that he’s been sent to work on a project in Miami. But the way he flinched when I tried to comfort him was jarring.

He’d tried to warn me of his baggage. In retrospect, even being a single mother to two high-energy young boys was no comparison to what he was dealing with. Ex-husbands along for the ride or not.

When Joyce had shared about meeting their neighbor, Tom, who volunteered with the fire department and offered assistanceif they needed it, I’d instantly felt grateful that she and Carolyn had someone so capable close by. So, I could only imagine Harrison must feel the same.

“Look at that,” I say after the first hand is complete. “Fire engine red.” I giggle. “Red definitely suits you.” Standing from where I was sitting in an uncomfortable bedside chair, I move to the other side of the bed. This time, I perch precariously on the edge and repeat the process with the tissue before re-opening the little bottle to adorn her remaining fingers. Again, I manage to apply the polish with ease. Until I get to her pinky.

“Harry.”

My hand freezes. Is he here? I haven’t heard from him since last night when he seemed to pull away. I’d gotten so caught up in Carolyn’s nails, I hadn’t thought to prepare myself for whatever mood he might be in today. Had he been talking to a nurse in the hallway behind me?Maybe it’s the redhead.Why am I so nervous? I’m not doing anything wrong. I mean, Carolyn likes red nails. Was thistheirthing? Just because she’s a redhead doesn’t mean she owns all the red nails.

Gah, I’m losing it.

Biting down on my lip, I carefully glance over my shoulder. But there’s no one there. Had he seen me here and left?

“Harry.”

My head spins so fast, I nearly fall off of the bed.

“Harry loves you.”

I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth.Oh my gosh. Is this really happening?I’m so awestruck, I don’t even consider whether or not I have a fire engine red mustache now. “I… I love him too.”

Her eyes are clear. Bright blue. Not blank like before. Looking closer, I realize her eyes look nothing like her son. Wow, none of them look a thing alike.

Carolyn gives me a small smile, and I have to look away to keep from smearing her polish if these tears start to fall. I try to look down, paint the last remaining nail, but it’s useless. Even if I don’t cry all over her, my hands won’t stop shaking.

“You should be so proud. Of the man you raised. He’s so smart and caring. He works so?—”

I stop when I look back up, discovering Carolyn’s eyes are closed, her breaths even.

Did that really happen? Or had I dreamt the whole thing? My head drops forward, questioning my sanity. Until I glance at my watch and realize I’m going to be late to work. I quickly close the bottle, stand, tuck it into my tote, and bend to give Carolyn a quick kiss on her forehead before rushing back to the ER.

But as I walk, I continue to question. Had I imagined that? Was it wishful thinking? In my wildest dreams of Harrison, Carolyn has never made an appearance. Even after the night she came to his door. My first inclination is to call him. Share with him that she spoke to me. Yet, while I’m certain he’d want to know she spoke, I’m not so sure he’d want to hear what she said. And I’d never want to embarrass him by repeating it.

Even if he does love me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

HARRISON

“Harrison.”

Tucking my phone back into my pocket, I turn to find Dr. Romano, Mom’s rehabilitation physician, rushing in my direction.

“Hey, I’m glad I caught you. I know you’re a busy man. I just spoke with the social worker, Tiffany. She said you wanted to discharge your mother as soon as possible. I needed to make sure you understood the risks of bringing her home before we’re confident she has safety measures in place. Occupational and physical therapy are working with her to help teach her to dress and maneuver her surroundings so she doesn’t have another fall.

“Dr. Romano, you know as well as I do, they aren’t going to be able to teach her anything. That part of her mind has shut down permanently. I appreciate the effort. But she can receive therapy as easily at home as here. If nothing else, it might teach those of us who are living with her.”

I hate to be testy with this guy. But I’m being stretched beyond my limits right now. The last thing I need is to add the rehab facility to the mix. Not if there isn’t a damn good reason for her to be here. Things are falling apart with everyone out sickat multiple job sites, and I just had to tell Braxton’s secretary I won’t make it back to Miami until tomorrow.

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