Page 18 of Leave a Mark
“I’m scared to ask what you are doing.”
“Agnes was good,” he assured her. “I’m just taking care of a few things.” He poured fresh litter into the box and crossed the hall to the bathroom to wash his hands. A pair of tortoise-shell glasses rested next to an empty contact case. Lee smiled. She was nearsighted, too.
He walked back into the kitchen and began opening cabinets. When he found the glassware, he grabbed a tumbler, went to the fridge, loaded it with ice, and walked to the tap. As the glass filled, he tried to think of anything else he could do to make Wren’s next few days a little easier.
Lee admitted to himself that he’d never done anything like this for a patient. He’d never eventhoughtof doing anything of the sort. But he also knew that helping Wren in this moment was something he reallywantedto do.
He carried the water glass back to her living room. “What are you going to do for dinner?” he asked. As soon as the question was out, Lee froze.
Sushi. Marcelle.
Shit.
“I… um… I was thinking of ordering Chinese.” She tilted her chin down and gave him a sidelong look. “Would… you… like to stay?”
Her obvious discomfort made him laugh. What else could he do? He found a coaster and set down the glass of water on her coffee table, realizing as he did that it was a Queen Anne piece. Probably mahogany.
“Actually, I need to go.” He stood and dried his hands on his slacks, ignoring the fact that eating Chinese with Wren Blanchard sounded better than anything he’d done in a long time. “I just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, nodding. “But thank you — for everything." This time she held out her hand, giving him a view of her black bird flock one more time.
He took it and pressed his palm against hers. The hand was small and slender in his grip and, unlike the night before, it was warm and strong in his.
“You’re very welcome.”
“I mean it, Dr. Hawthorne,” she said. “I don’t know many doctors who would go so far out of their way to help a patient.”
“It’s Lee,” he said, squeezing her hand once more before letting it go. “And it was my pleasure.”
“Lee,” she repeated, nodding. He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like the apples of her cheeks blushed a little. He may have been wrong about that, but he wasn’t wrong about the feeling that ran down his chest when she said his name.
It was time to leave.
“Goodnight. Get well soon, Wren.”
He opened her door, turned the lock on her knob, and stepped out into the night.
Lee pulled out his phone to find three text messages, the first at 6:18 p.m.
Marcelle:Okay, we’ve got a table at 7:30. Your dad and Barbara are joining us. I’m getting ready at your place.
The next message was logged at 6:26 p.m.
Marcelle:Are you on your way? If you get home soon, you can shower and shave before we leave.
Then thirteen minutes later…
Marcelle:Where the hell are you???
CHAPTER SIX
LEE DUMPED HISkeys on the kitchen table and started pulling off his tie.
“Where have you been?” Marcelle called from across the house. “It’s almost seven!”
“I… I was helping a patient." He unbuttoned his shirt. “I’ll be ready in twenty minutes.”
He walked into his bathroom to find Marcelle standing at his vanity in lace panties and a strapless bra, running a flat iron through her strawberry-blonde hair.
