Page 122 of Putting Out
“What if I said I just don’t feel like doing this anymore?”
He stared into weary blue eyes that had haunted him for more years than he would admit.
“I would say… tough.”
“That’s what I thought you would say,” she replied, resigned to her fate.
“Kenny won’t let you quit.”
“Kenny had a knife in his back and yelled at me to sign my card. The man’s not normal.”
“True.”
“It’s really over?” she asked him. “As in over-over. Not all of the sudden he leaps up and comes after me again because he’s not really dead – over?”
“He’s dead, babe. All the way. It doesn’t get any more over than that.”
They waited for time to pass and for someone to announce it was okay to see Kenny. Reilly dozed against Luke’s shoulder while he stared at the clock and watched time pass. But he must have dozed, too, because he didn’t hear the explosion of activity until it was upon him.
“Where is he?”
Luke opened his eyes to see a familiar woman standing in front of him. Her hair was in disarray and her cheeks were flushed. She appeared to be on a mission.
“Tessa?”
“Whereishe?”
Reilly jolted awake, too, and rubbed her eyes before focusing on the crazed woman towering over her.
“Tessa, what are you doing…?”
“I’ll ask one more time, then I’m not going to be so nice. Whereishe?”
Reilly seemed to catch on quicker than Luke did. “He’s in room 215, but you can’t see him. They’re still…”
Tessa turned and whirled out of the waiting room, not bothering to listen to any explanations.
“Wow. I can’t tell if she’s pissed he got hurt or worried he’s not going to be okay.”
“I’m going with pissed,” Luke decided. Then he grinned. “Did you see her eyes? Kenny is in trouuuuble.”
“And he only has one arm to defend himself with. Maybe we should help him?” Reilly asked?
Their eyes met.
“Nahhh.”
* * *
Reilly stood up tostretch her legs, tight from sitting for so long. The tension caused by the worry for her brother seemed to settle in her back and shoulders. Right now if she had a club in her hand she doubted she would be able to swing it. The ding of the elevators on the other side of the waiting room sounded and a shock of white hair could be seen through the glass windows.
“Pop,” she muttered as she watched him walk the short distance to the nurses’ station.
His shoulders were hunched forward and he seemed older than he had just months ago. Moving quickly, she made it to the doorway of the waiting room just as the nurse was pointing out her location. Pop’s shoulders slumped a little more as soon as he saw her. Reilly knew it was relief and not grief that weighed him down.
In moments, she was embraced in a big bear hug and she found herself fighting back tears because it felt so damn good.
“He’s going to be okay, Pop.”
