Page 62 of Love Me Steadfast
“I think R.J. may have taken them as a trade. Or…just taken them.”
“Huh.”
He hasn’t answered my question, which is information in itself. “Just…if you should happen to come across an expensive violin, guitar, or a trumpet, I’d do just about anything to get them back.”
“How expensive are we talking?”
“My trumpet is more sentimental. But the Holstein goes for about four grand. The Martin a little less.”
He whistles. “You played trumpet, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” A part of me hoped I’d play it again someday.
“All right. I’m texting you my work email. Send me any details you have. Pictures too.”
“Okay. Thanks, Zach.”
“You bet.” I think he’s going to end the call when he adds. “Any chance you’ve come across Morgan’s phone?”
“Is it missing?” I wish I could take the words back becauseduh. My internal alarm starts humming. What does Zach want with Mo’s phone? “I’ll have a look.”
“Appreciate it. How’s Morgan doing?”
“She’s hanging in there.” I know this is my broken-record answer, but it’s true, and nobody wants the full story. Though…I’m not being fair. Zach would listen. Sofie would too. I rub my forehead, because the list is much bigger than that. Rowdy and Jesse. Wren and Emmie. The Huttons. And of course, William.
It’s me. Hi. I’m the problem.
But I can’t hurt them again.
“That’s good to hear,” Zach says, breaking the spell of longing in my chest. “If there’s anything we can do, please let us know?”
A soft warmth has begun to glow inside me. When I fell in love with William, I fell for his family too, and I’ve missed their kindness. Especially in moments like this. “You’re doing it.”
“See you Sunday?” he asks. “Dinner at our place.”
That hit of warmth morphs to anxiety. “Oh, um…”
“Everyone’s excited to see you,” he adds.
Stepping further into Zach and William’s circle feels risky, but I force in a steadying breath. It’s just dinner. My suddenly eager stomach perks up. “I’ll be there.”
We end the call just as I turn into Evergreen Hospital’s entrance. After parking on the second level by the skybridge, I type out an email to Zach with my best pictures of Morgan’s violin, guitar, and my trumpet, plus the details he asked for, then head inside to visit Mo.
When I enter the lounge area and head for the table with the Christmas stamp puzzle, I’ve barely begun testing pieces when a tall woman walks toward me. She’s wearing gray slacks and a pink silk shell with an off-white cardigan.
“Charlotte?” she asks, her serious eyes steady on mine.
I jump up. “Did something happen?”
She gives me a reassuring smile. “Everything is fine.” She extends her hand. “I’m Dr. Shreve.”
When we shake, her skin is smooth and warm. I try to lean into the possibility that she’s trustworthy. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise. I thought, since Morgan is still in group, you and I could talk?”
“Oh, sure.”
Dr. Shreve turns and leads me down a short hallway lined with closed doors, each with a slider indicating “IN SESSION.” Behind a few of them come the whir of a white noise machine to mask the evidence of whatever emotional turmoil is going on inside.
