Page 149 of College Town

Dr. Patel nodded as though she’d expected as much. “I’m hopeful the nerves will regenerate, but it’ll take some time, and you’ll need to be patient and rely on a walker until you’re more stable. With your internal injuries, a fall’s the last thing you need.”

Tommy nodded.

The next day, Frank popped in, bearing a three-wheeled rolling walker, complete with bicycle-style hand brakes and a storage pocket.

Lawson jerked upright in his chair by Tommy’s bed, their game of Go Fish forgotten.

Tommy sent the walker a dark look. “I’m not using that. I’m not eighty.”

“You’ll use it and you’ll be grateful for it,” Frank said. Just as he’d observed in Noah, there was a new – new to Lawson – note of fondness n Frank’s voice, and a spark of real love in his gaze.

The people Lawson met weeks before, the assholes, had been personas. What he’d seen of Noah and Frank in the hospital were the real family. The people who loved Tommy and worried over him; who brought him an expensive walker, and made sure Lawson stayed fed; who’d told Lawson thetruth.

As if this thought had summoned it, Frank’s gaze lifted to Lawson, and the fondness didn’t leave his voice. “How you holdin’ up, kid? I can tell you haven’t washed your hair in a week, becausedamn. Are you at least getting any sleep?”

Lawson pushed his hair back self-consciously, and felt how greasy it was. “A little. They brought me a recliner.”

Frank glanced over at the lumpy brown thing in the corner. “Yeah. That looks comfy. Why don’t you go home for a little while? Clean up, get some rest. I can keep this lunatic company.”

Tommy didn’t protest.No, don’t, stay here. But he shuffled his hand of cards together and his lips pressed very flat like he was trying not to frown.

“No. I’m good,” Lawson said.

Frank searched his face a long moment, then nodded, and perched a hip on the edge of the bed. He motioned to the cards. “What are we playing?”

“Go fish,” Tommy answered.

“Pffft. No we’re not. Here, gimme the deck. I’ll deal.”

~*~

The Radisson is hosting a party in each of its three ballrooms tonight, so the lobby is crowded with people coming and going, most in cocktail attire. One of the parties is a wedding in which the guests were clearly encouraged to wear top hats and tails, and Lawson breathes a sigh of relief that he got away with slacks and a blazer. He doesn’t like dressing up, but it could always be worse.

“Jane Austen much?” Tommy mutters as they pass a pair of gray-bearded men whose white cummerbunds don’t fit all that well, and Lawson snickers.

“If our party wraps up early, we can go crash theirs,” Lawson suggests.

“God no. One party’s plenty.”

Lawson hums in agreement and squeezes him tighter to his side, though it makes walking more difficult.

“Stop,” Tommy says, without any real admonishment, his grip tightening on the back of Lawson’s shirt beneath his jacket. “Look, there’s Leo.”

Lawson spots him standing beside the easel-mounted marquis for their party:Welcome Eastman Raiders! Class of…

Leo lifts a wave as they make their way over.

“Hey, man.” Tommy hooks his cane into his elbow so he can shake Leo’s hand. They always shake, each time they see one another in a very formal way, and Lawson teases them both about it mercilessly. Leo always blushes, and Tommy always elbows him, and it’s great: his two favorite dudes getting along and being friends in their own odd, old man way.

“Hey,” Lawson says, minus the handshake, because handshakes are for business meetings, Tommy. “Dana inside?”

“Yeah. She’s doing the last-minute rundown before everyone starts arriving. Listen, guys,” he adds, when Lawson leans toward the chocked-open door. Leo checks over his shoulder, and then speaks in a whisper that’s hard to hear above the din of activity around them. “I wanted to get your opinion on something, before we go in.”

Lawson trades a glance with Tommy who lifts his brows, intrigued.

“Okay,” Lawson says. “Shoot.”

Leo checks over his shoulder again, and then, slowly, draws a small, velvet box from the interior pocket of his suit jacket.

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