Page 19 of Rogue Survivor
Nurse Sheila shakes her head, a vaguely disapproving hum escaping her pursed lips. “She shouldn’t have anything besides clear broth and Jell-O for twenty-four hours after surgery.” A moment later, she rolls her eyes. “But I won’t tell anyone if you don’t. Just make sure she takes it easy. No more thanhalfof what shethinksshe can eat. If that stays down, after an hour, she can have more.”
That’s enough approval for Isabel, who doesn’t look back. Just holds the door open and ushers me inside.
Isabel
Under normal circumstances, I’d never dream of introducing Veronica to a man before we’ve even had dinner. But this? It’s about as far from normal as a situation can get.
I haven’t slept. Haven’t showered. I’m still wearing the little black dress, though I pulled on a pair of fuzzy socks, my old college fleece, and my Chucks when I got the call about Veronica.
I doubt I smell very good, and IknowI look like shit. My cheeks heat when I realize I sobbed all over Connor’s shirt thensat in his lapand kept crying. But he didn’t even blink. Just held me and made me feel like everything might be okay again. Someday.
“Veronica? Still awake?” I ask as I peek around the curtain. She’s sitting up—as much as she can with all the wires and monitors attached to her body—and fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “This is Connor. Connor Davis.”
He sets the bags on the table stretching across the bed. “Pretty sure there’s a hamburger, a bacon cheeseburger, and a chicken sandwich in that first bag. And fries.”
My daughter manages a half smile. “Ketchup too?”
Connor arches his brows. “I ain’t a monster. There’sextraketchup.”
She shoots me a look normally reserved for things like double pepperoni and school holidays, then turns her focus back to Connor. “So. You’re dating my mom.”
He’s digging through the bags, but stops to glance at me, his eyes full of questions, before he starts to arrange as much of the food as he can fit on the little table.
“Yes, he is,” I say, stepping closer to him so I can rest my hand on his back. “You okay with that?”
“Sure.” She only has eyes for the food, and I have to repeat Nurse Sheila’s warning twice before she tells me she understands and unwraps a bacon cheeseburger. But with her left arm in a cast and sling, as soon as she picks it up, all the toppings fall out, and tears shimmer in her eyes.
“Want to know the trick?” Connor asks as he finds a chair in the corner of the room and places it next to mine. “Watch.”
He takes another wrapped cheeseburger, then lays it upside down in his left palm. “Since you can’t use the hand that’s in a cast yet, you need a couple of fancy moves to keep everything inside the bun. Isabel? Can you put her burger back together and wrap it up again?”
I don’t know what he’s doing, but in under a minute, he’s connected with my daughter in a way I can’t. A way she desperately needs. So I do what he asks, shoving the pickles and tomatoes back inside the bun before folding the paper again.
“When I was where you were, lil’ bit, my right arm was messed up. So see if you can mirror my movements, okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” Veronica says. She’s no longer crying, at least, and I’m mesmerized watching the two of them together. How Connor almost immediately knew what she was feelingandhow to fix it.
“Take the first corner of the wrapper and peel it back, butdon’tdo the same thing with the other corner.”
“Why not?” She’s wary, but interested. A deep scrape on her cheek has swollen to twice the size it was this morning, but it didn’t need stitches—thank God. Unlike her ruptured spleen. I’d do anything to be able to kiss it and make it better, but that doesn’t work anymore. What she needs now? Connor understands in a way I don’t.
“Because if those pickles fall out again, I’m stealing them.” He winks at her and proceeds to show her how to fold the wrapper into a strange little envelope. “There you go. It gets awkward when the burger’s almost gone, but by then, you’ve eaten most of the good stuff anyway.”
Veronica takes her first bite, and her smile? It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “Go slow, baby girl. Nurse Sheila said you shouldn’t have more than half of what youthinkyou can eat. Just in case.”
“Mom…”
There’s the attitude I’ve missed. Maybe shewillbe okay. Eventually. “I mean it, Veronica. You were sedated less than twelve hours ago.”
Shit. The haunted look is back in her eyes, and she returns her focus to the cheeseburger. Until Connor pulls out the container of queso. Then she’s all about the chips.
I can’t muster my usual enthusiasm for spicy melted cheese, but I manage a few bites. Until Connor rests his hand at the small of my back and starts rubbing small, slow circles over my tight muscles.
“I’m sorry I messed up your date,” Veronica says quietly as she sets the remains of the cheeseburger on the table. “Mom was really excited.”
Connor scoots his chair closer to the bed and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “You didn’t ‘mess up’ anything. This ain’t the date either of us planned, but I couldn’t ask for better company. Pretty sure your mom feels the same way.”
My eyes burn, and I nod. If I try to speak, I’ll burst into tears. Veronica’s the most important person in my life and always will be. But Connor just won more points than I thought possible—just by talking to my daughter like she matters.
