Page 46 of Love in Tandem
So much for feeling rested.
Seriously. Sophia should star in a Hallmark Movies and Mysteries series. Her amateur sleuthing skills were that good. In less than two days she’d tracked down the whereabouts of one Andrew Patrick Hopkins, formally known as the eccentric and mysterious A. P. Hopkins.
She had to admit, part of her was a bit disappointed to discover he wasn’t Anthony Hopkins, the actor, like she’d always secretly hoped. And another part of her was a little embarrassed to discover she’d dropped off a food tray for him three days ago without realizing it.
Turns out while she was making dozens of phone calls the past two days to discover his full name and home address, he’d been holed up in the oncology unit at the very hospital where she worked. To think she could have asked him about the challenge money and put her mind at ease days ago.
Bounding up the stairwell, Sophia prayed he wasn’t sleeping. Her shift started in ten minutes. She’d meant to get to the hospital earlier, but her car had been acting up, making weird noises. The same ones she noticed yesterday and hoped would magically go away on their own.
Suffice it to say, no magic occurred overnight. So she’d driven slower than usual. And that was after she forgot to set her alarm clock, oversleeping a solid forty-six minutes.
Today was not off to a great start. Hopefully her conversation with Mr. Hopkins would turn the tide.
Hustling down the hallway past the nurses station, she glanced at her watch. Eight minutes. Surely enough time to ask a simple question and get a simple answer, then bust it back down to the cafeteria kitchen.
She glanced at her watch again. Seven minutes. Good grief, she’d better pick up the pace. Sophia rounded another hallway corner, then halted. A pretty Indian woman wearing a doctor’s white coat and a stethoscope around her neck was talking to a man outside of Mr. Hopkins’s room.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, patting his arm. “We asked him several times if there was anybody he wanted us to call, and he always said no.”
The man’s shoulders drooped. He turned his head to the side long enough for Sophia to catch a glimpse and see he was young. And cute—in a Clark Kent sort of way. Not that this was the time to be noticing things like that. Not when it sounded like Mr. Hopkins might be . . .
Oh, please don’t be.
The young man removed his dark framed glasses and rubbed his eyes. “No, no. I understand. I’m not blaming you. I just wish he’d let me know sooner. I would have been here. I would’ve stayed with him. I just hate thinking he was alone when he . . . you know, died.”
Sophia winced, wanting to plug her ears. Maybe they were talking about somebody else.
“Mr. Hopkins seemed like a wonderful man,” the doctor responded.
Crud.
“And for what it’s worth,” the doctor continued, patting the young man’s arm. “This was how he wanted it. For whatever reason. I assure you, he was completely lucid and in his right mind when he made these decisions. Up until yesterday morning, he was still working on his computer. It wasn’t until late last night that his body finally wore out. He slipped into unconsciousness. Knowing his condition was terminal, he’d already made the decision ahead of time not to be resuscitated when he reached that point. That’s when we called you.”
A high-pitched beep beep beep sounded. The doctor pulled her pager out of her pocket and read the message. “Sorry. I need to answer this. But I’ll be around if you have any more questions.”
She started past him, then turned back. “Oh, I meant to tell you. The nurse overnight said Mr. Hopkins did have one more lucid moment early this morning before he passed away. Long enough for her to tell him we’d called you and that you were coming. She said even though he had a far-off look in his eyes, he nodded like he understood, and said you’d find what you needed at home. Or something to that effect. I’m sorry. I really do have to take this.”
“No, I understand. Thank you. Thanks for everything.”
The doctor brushed past Sophia with her gaze focused on her pager. The young man remained in the hallway, his gaze pointed down at his Converse sneakers. Poor guy. He looked lost. Now was obviously not the right time to introduce herself and ask whether he knew anything about the money Mr. Hopkins had promised for the challenge.
But at some point she would have to approach him. And considering Charlotte was already beginning day two, that point would have to be sooner rather than later.
Maybe as soon as Sophia finished her shift today.
Somehow, miraculously, Charlotte managed to get dressed and out of the tent the second morning of their trip without the use of an oil can. She stretched her arms over her head with a yawn that transitioned into a groan. “I have a whole new level of empathy for the Tin Man. Oh my goodness, it hurts.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere. Everything. Even my bladder.” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Don’t suppose the bar’s open.”
Zach cracked a grin and pointed over his shoulder. “If you need to use the bathroom, you’re going to have to make do with that bush.”
“In that case, I’ll just hold it forever.” Charlotte shot the quiet, locked-up bar a wistful look. How detrimental would it be to her health if she gave her kidneys time off and just sweat out her fluids the remainder of the trip?
“So other than your entire body, including your bladder, being in pain, how’d you sleep?” Zach started disassembling the tent.
“Oh man, I crashed. I don’t remember waking up once.” Charlotte frowned. So then why did she recall finding herself snuggled tightly against Zach at some point in the night? Probably just a dream. A super nice and cozy dream. “You? Sleep okay?”
