Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
I waved awkwardly from my spot in the corner. “Uh, yeah. That’s true.”
“Cool! Thank you!” Chase shoved the cap on and swung his skinny legs over the side of the bed. “Wanna play Baxter?”
“Sure thing. I’ve got time for one game. That okay, Mom?”
The young woman sitting on the chair across from Pierce nodded as she turned to retrieve two controllers. “Go get him, Chase.”
“No way. This one is mine,” Pierce replied cockily.
He lost. Of course he did. And he made it funny and silly, smacking his forehead when he steered his car off a cliff or veered into a semitruck on a two-lane highway to avoid a flock of sheep. Chase giggled beside him, wiggling excitedly.
I was so caught up in the exchange that I didn’t notice Chase’s mom had drifted to my side until she spoke in a low voice, for my ears only.
“He’s a good man,” she said. “Chase is too young to watch the Baxter movies, but he’s a video game geek. He was so excited to meet the real Baxter for the first time a few weeks ago that he couldn’t sit still. And now they’re buddies.”
I studied her clandestinely. She was maybe thirty, with long dark hair tied in a ponytail. I asked about her family and learned that Chase was the youngest of three. I didn’t see how the fuck it was possible to work full-time, be there for a spouse and three kids—one with medical needs—and remain sane. It boggled my mind.
“How do you do it?”
“Oh, I do what any parent would. Chase is the tough guy. Not me,” she replied softly. “I can’t tell you how much this means to him. To all of us. Pierce is his hero. I think he might be mine now, too.”
A nurse entered the room before I could reply. She greeted Chase and flashed a winsome smile at Pierce. “Good evening, Mr. Allen. I’m Kimberly. I was asked to escort you to see Mr. Jasper Gowan when you’re ready.”
Pierce nodded graciously but slumped in his chair in a show of disappointment worthy of any grade school kid. “Sorry, Chase. I gotta run.”
“It’s okay.”
“We’ll call this game a tie ’cause I think I was about to win.”
“No way, Jose.” Chase grinned so wide his new baseball cap fell over his eyes. He pulled it off, adding, “Thanks for the hat.”
“You’re welcome. Later, man.” He bumped Chase’s fist, hugged his mom, and posed for a photo, then inclined his chin in my direction. “Ready, assistant?”
That should have irked me, but I was under a new spell, utterly enchanted by this unexpected detour.
“Ready.”
Kimberly motioned us into a private elevator to the third floor.
“Good evening, Mr. Gowan. You have visitors.”
Just like that, it was back to reality.
I wanted to blame my clouded senses on the scent of ruthless antiseptic cleanliness clinging to the air like bad perfume. But this wing of the hospital had a far less cheery, hopeful vibe, and I simply wasn’t prepared for the sight of him.
Mr. G looked so damn small and fragile, attached to an array of high-tech machinery, an IV, oxygen, and a heart monitor. His white hair was disheveled, his skin pale and translucent. I was used to a vibrant dandy of a man who wore fancy silk ties in bright colors, crossed his legs to show off matching socks, and never had so much as a single strand of hair out of place.
I blinked back tears, knowing he’d never forgive me if I dared shed one in his presence. I wished I could do something. Anything.
I wanted to open a window and redecorate, stat. Out with the paper-thin blue blanket draped over the end of the twin bed. Out with the proxy shower curtain shielding him from nosy passersby. Out with the generic hospital gown that did nothing for anyone’s coloring. Out with all things drab and dreary, muting his shine. And yes, I wanted to comb his hair for him.
“Well, look who’s here,” Mr. G rasped weakly, extending a shaky hand to me. “Dah-ling, you’re a sight for these old eyes.”
I scooted a plastic blue chair next to his bed, swallowing around the lump in my throat. “It’s good to see you, Mr. Gowan. How are you feeling?”
“Better. There’s a rumor they’re kicking me out soon.” He looked over at the nurse. “Isn’t that right?”
“We’ll see what the doctor says,” she said carefully. “I’ll give you twenty minutes to chat. Push the button if you need anything at all, Mr. Allen. Enjoy your visit.”
Mr. G wheezed a laugh when the door clicked shut. “I think she has a bigger crush on you than Enid. Come sit, movie star.”
Pierce obeyed, pulling a chair next to mine. “Glad to hear you’re on the mend.”
“Mend? I don’t think that’s in the cards for me now. I’m operating on what’s called ‘borrowed time.’ I haven’t taken so much as a puff in fifteen years, but my lungs have railed against my former two-pack-a-day cigarette habit. What can you do?” Mr. Gowan adjusted his oxygen tube and smiled. “It’s nice to see you both.”