“Not really,” Milo said.
“Well, I feel better.” She grinned and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
As Milo and Maisy chatted a bit more, I started packing up my purse. I was planning to squeeze in a quick run before I picked up Rowen at Quail Hollow.
“I’m outta here!” I waved good-bye and headed to my car.
Running was something I didn’t do much of anymore but years ago, I had been a running addict. But then my mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer and all the free time I’d had was spent with her, taking care of her household chores. Her body had been so weak while it battled the cancer that she’d needed the help. And with all the extra work, I hadn’t had time to run anymore.
Then in the middle of it all, I’d gotten pregnant from a one-night stand at a wedding. Being a single parent to an infant while taking care of my own had put a long-term hiatus on my running.
But today I was making time for it. It was so beautiful outside and I wanted to spend some time enjoying the fresh air.
Ben had loved fresh air. He’d always told me how much good it did for your body. Anytime I had felt sick or blue, he’d push me outside.
I missed him so much. I wished that he were waiting at the farmhouse for me. That instead of a run, we could go on a walk together and visit. I missed his presence. Talking to him. Laughing with him. Our banter.
Ever since we had first met, he and I had teased one another. Our relationship had been easy. Natural. Ever since the day I had walked into his hospital room.
Three years earlier . . .
My foot was killing me. Any minute now, the blister on the back of my left heel was going to start gushing blood and I’d bleed out right here on the linoleum floor. Death by heel blister.
The twelve Band-Aids I had used to try and cover the damn thing were not helping.
I limped toward the last room of the rehab unit on the sixth floor of Spokane Deaconess Hospital.
I was an ER nurse normally and loved its fast pace. Unfortunately, today had been a slow one, and rather than organize supply cabinets and clean the nurses’ station, I had volunteered to head upstairs to rehab.
Knocking with two quick knuckle taps, I pushed the door open and walked into room 612 while looking down at the iPad in my hands displaying the patient’s chart.
“Hi, ah . . . Mr. Coppersmith?” I called.
“Ben,” he muttered.
I looked up to see Mr. Coppersmith sitting on his hospital bed in near darkness. Just a faint glow coming from the bathroom lit his room. About six pillows were propped up behind his back, and he wasn’t sleeping or watching TV. He was just sitting there on his bed, staring at the wall, seemingly lost in thought.
It was too dark to get a good look at Ben so I walked to the windows. Rather than turn on the intense and unfriendly florescent overhead lighting, which made skin look gray and sick people look sicker, I’d let the warm afternoon sunshine light the room.
“Hi, Ben,” I said after the curtains were open. “My name’s Gigi. How are you today?”
“Ready to get out of here and head home.” His voice held no conviction and his eyes remained focused on the wall. His fingers played nervously in his lap.
Ben was an older man, seventy-eight according to his chart, but I would have guessed much younger, judging by the shape of his body. His frame only carried a small amount of extra weight at the middle, and his shoulders and chest were broad. Straight, not slumped like most of the elderly pa
tients I saw. His legs extended nearly off the end of the bed. He had to be at least seven or eight inches taller than my five foot seven. Ben had a full head of dark gray hair, neatly combed and not too long. His skin was tan and leathery, likely from spending years outdoors.
I glanced down at his chart again and did a quick scan to familiarize myself more with his stay in rehab.
“Is your hip feeling better?” I asked.
He had come in with severe bruising on the entire right side of his body from a fall. His hip had been so swollen he couldn’t walk for a week. Where the hell had he fallen from to cause such damage?
Ben didn’t answer my question. He nodded once while keeping his eyes locked on the wall.
“Is there anything I can tell the physical therapist before you meet with her one last time today? She shouldn’t have much to do with you today now that your hip is back to normal but I could leave her a note if you’d like.”
Silence. His eyes didn’t even shift.
