Page 33 of Every Chance After

It’s not exactly an answer, but I don’t press. I hold out my shopping bag, and she takes it one-handed.

Her amused suspicion makes a return. “A present? Ah, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I, um, wanted to, only not flowers or shit you can’t use.” I motion to the many bouquets across the room—it looks like half of Seagrove sent her flowers, funny since no one’s here. It looks and smells like a florist’s shop. Or a funeral.

“Aw, cat treats and toys! They’ll love these.” She shakes a toy mouse, making it jingle. “That’s very thoughtful. Thank you, Grady.”

Her delight eases my nerves.

“How do you feel?”

Her smile widens. “Like I got hit by a truck.”

My mouth drops in sudden horror.

She laughs, her wry smile cocking up her left cheek. “Relax, Grady. If we can’t laugh…”

She shrugs rather than finishing her sentence. Her lightheartedness warms me more than the sunlight pouring into her room. People rarely surprise me, but she does. My guilt appreciates her good mood, but I know she’s making it easy on me.

Problem is, I don’t want easy.

“I’m doing well, thanks,” she says. “Sore, but healing properly. Oh, the bruise on my side where I whacked my hip looks like a giant jellyfish. We nicknamed it Giant Jelly. Everyone on the ward talks about it.”

“Marnie, are you talking up your bruise again?” a nurse booms, entering the room.

“Oh, Ivy. This is Grady Tripp.”

“Hi, Grady Tripp. Marnie, here’s the biggest ice pack I could find. Apply it at least three times a day to keep the swelling down,” she says, handing over a thick, blue patch.

“Thanks.” Marina drops it in her suitcase.

Ivy looks at me, hands on her hips. “I feel slightly better about this since you’re here. I was starting to worry that no one would show.”

“Still waiting on those papers, Ivy,” Marina says. “I know I’m your favorite, but seriously. I’ve got it covered.”

“Okay, okay. But I don’t like it.” Ivy bounces from the room.

“What doesn’t she like?” I ask.

“That I’m leaving.”

“Isn’t that… good?”

Marnie shrugs, winces, and then eases herself onto the side of the bed. I meet her there, anxious to help.

“I’m fine, Grady. I need breaks, that’s all.” She manages a weak smile, but I don’t trust it.

“Why doesn’t she like that you’re leaving?” I try again.

“The doctor wants me to stay another day or two, but weeventuallyagreed it wasn’t necessary.”

“What the hell, Marina?” I demand, my abated frustration making a quick return. “That’s ridiculous. You should stay. Why argue with the doctor?”

She winces at my abruptness but doesn’t lose her friendliness. “Thanks for your concern, but I know what I’m doing.”

“No, you don’t. This was a major surgery, not a damn oil change.”

Her bright, denim-blue eyes narrow, but her smile stretches at my harshness. “This is why they call you Grouchy Tripp, you know.”

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