Page 2 of Reading Between the Lines
“They didn’t want to let me in,” he said. “Told me to come back in the morning when visiting hours started at eight.”
A rumble vibrated my chest. “Idiots. It was their fucking idea.”
“I know.” The scalp massage intensified. “I sassed them.”
“Good.”
Echo rested her paw on my foot, likely sensing my rising blood pressure. I reached down and stroked between her ears.
“I told Fred to stick it where the sun don’t shine and call his boss if he had a problem,” Tallus continued. “He couldn’t be bothered arguing and let me in.”
“He’s a fucking asshole.”
“He’s not so bad.”
The hospital had bent the rules after witnessing too many ugly confrontations between my father and me. We were a fight waiting to happen, and with decades of built-up hostility between us, it would likely end in bloodshed and police calls. They didn’t want that.
With my most recent announcement, war had been declared. I didn’t give a fuck what the old man thought any longer, and Nana had given me the power to make decisions on her behalf, so he had no ground to argue.
Recognizing a need to keep us apart, the hospital devised a solution. Provided Tallus and I kept quiet, the head nurse had no problem with us visiting Nana after hours. Security, however, was not fond of letting us in and out of the building, and the main doors locked on a timer at eight. It took a song, dance, and an abundance of patience, of which I had none, to wave down a rent-a-cop and have them let us inside.
Tallus’s sassy charm went a long way.
Mine did not.
The scalp massage stopped, and Tallus moved in front of me, removing the Dr Pepper from between my thighs and depositing himself on my lap. I rested my chin on his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his middle when he leaned back, careful not to jab him with the hard plaster cast.
He sighed, a sad, mournful sound that echoed in my heart. No one liked seeing an old woman in a hospital. We watched Nana sleep for several long minutes. A machine beeped down the hall, but otherwise, the floor was as quiet as a tomb.
Nana had left the ICU the previous day, her pneumonia having cleared after a week of touch and go. Everyone feared Boone was calling her home, but despite her advanced age, Nana wasn’t ready to leave. If she continued to improve, the plan was to discharge her in the morning.
“How was your day?” I asked into the stillness.
“Boring. No Kitty. After work, I swung by the office, put a second coat of paint on the walls, and answered a few emails.”
“Anything imperative?”
“Not really. Another one from Delaney. She said to expect a shipment of furniture on Thursday. I should have the painting done by then.”
“Christ. She’s overdoing it.”
“She’s grateful. Let it go.”
I grunted, uneasy with the endlessgiftswe’d received from a recent client. I was appreciative since she’d pulled my failing business out of the red and helped us find stability again, but I wasn’t used to someone being so… nice to me.
“Did you go home and sleep some?” I asked.
“I managed a few hours.”
Nana shuffled, made a faint noise, and opened her eyes.
I nudged Tallus off my lap and shifted to the edge of the chair, flicking on the bedside lamp and taking her hand in my uninjured one. Her thin skin hung loose over her bones, and my stomach soured, hating her fragility.
Filmy eyes blinked at the assaulting illumination as they searched my face. Ever-present confusion marred her silver brow. The pieces weren’t clicking. They rarely did anymore.
“Diem?”
My heart skipped. Lately, Nananeverrecognized me. I was always Boone. “Yes, Nana. It’s me. It’s Diem. How are you feeling?”
