Page 33 of Not the Bodyguard's Widow
“Turkey, cheese, and tomato on wheat?”
Kimberly bobbed her head and covered a yawn.
Alex set the sandwich in front of her.
“But that’s yours.”
“I’ll make another. You look droopy.”
Droopy like her flowers. Kimberly pushed herself up. “My flowers—I forgot to put them in a vase.”
Alex set his hand on her shoulder. “Eat. I’ll go get them. Where are they?”
Kimberly swallowed the bite she’d greedily taken. “On my nightstand.”
He returned a moment later.
“Vase.” Kimberly pointed to the cupboard above the refrigerator.
Alex set the flowers in water on the table in front of her. “They look a little sad, don’t they?”
Kimberly fought to keep her eyes open. No one had picked flowers for her since third grade when the boy across the street had brought her a fistful of dandelions. “No, they are perfect.” The plate in front of her was empty. Had she eaten it all?
Alex cupped her elbow. “Nap time?”
Kimberly nodded and let him lead her down the hallway. He pulled back the comforter and tucked her in, then punched several keys on her phone. “I’ve set this so it will alert me if you say anything.”
Without opening her eyes, she tried to reply, “Thanks.”
There was the soft brush of his hand across her brow before exhaustion took over.
* * *
Alex cleaned up his lunch and stared at his phone. Mom, Dad, or Abbie? After a moment, he dialed Abbie, not wanting a video call.
“Hey, what’s up? Two calls in two days. Need more pregnancy advice?”
“Not exactly. Who is with you?”
“Mom.”
Alex rubbed the back of his neck. “Better put me on speakerphone.”
“Done.”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Jethro said you found a new client,” said Mom.
“That is one way of putting it.”
“Alex, what is wrong?” Abbie’s voice held a note of panic.
“Nothing is wrong. I kind of got married today?” He couldn’t keep the questioning tone out of his voice.
“What?” He couldn’t distinguish his sister’s voice from his mom’s.
Alex held the phone away from his head and their scream.
