Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Kids blowing up your phone?” Denver asked, looking up from the terrible excuse for a chicken sandwich and waffle fries he’d ordered.
“Yeah.” I scrolled through my messages, chest all warm at the number of unread ones. I was missed. “Wren can’t find the cooling rack for cookies or the powdered sugar.”
“The cooling rack is in the drawer under the oven.” Denver had moved on to unwrapping a large chocolate chip cookie. Despite living in the carriage house with Sean, Denver cooked in the main house several times a week, usually with Wren. “Powdered sugar is in the pantry, upper left.”
“Damn, you’re good.” I typed a fast reply, including a reminder to use potholders to take the cookies out of the oven.
“I try.” Denver blew across his knuckles, making us both chuckle. It had been a long few days. We needed all the laughs we could get.
“Rowan can’t find his lucky drama club shirt for some audition.” I continued to scroll though my messages. “Not this year’s shirt, but the one from two years ago.”
“That I can’t help with.” Denver shook his head. “He’s a senior and president of the drama club. Tell him he doesn’t need luck. Get out there and break a leg.”
“Will do. And I’ll remind him he looks better in glitter anyway.” I sent the message before going to one from his sister. “And Maren is predictably stressed about her biochemistry final.”
“Definitely not helping there. My grades were… Well, the less said, the better.” Denver waved a hand before taking a decisive bite of his cookie. “What’s up with her and that Diesel kid?”
“That’s a question.” I glanced down at my phone like it might have the answer. Ever since Maren’s friend Diesel had been injured while hiking during the summer, she’d been visiting way more often from college. Of all the kids, I was probably closest to Maren, but she’d been tight-lipped every time Diesel’s name came up. “And she’s not exactly talking. But she’s knitting him a hat for Christmas, so make your own guess there.”
“So glad I’m not a teen navigating romance and friendships anymore.” Denver shuddered, then pulled his corduroy jacket closer. The frosty weather meant drafty hospital corridors. We’d all packed in such a hurry that we were making do with odds and ends. I was wearing an old T-shirt of Denver’s, jeans that were more days old than I cared to admit, and an ancient zip front hoodie with the Mount Hope Hospital logo. Across the cafeteria, a trio of nurses in scrubs waited for their food orders. I had more than enough leave banked, but I was starting to miss work. And simpler fashion choices.
“Couldn’t pay me to be a teen again,” I agreed with Denver. He was relatively new to our friendship group by way of dating Sean, and I liked that Denver hadn’t known me back when we’d all been at community college together. I’d been in my late teens and a hot mess in more ways than one. “Anyway, I should probably decide whether I’m driving back on my own or leaving my SUV with you and Sean and flying back.” I changed the subject before he could ask about my younger years. “Now that Declan’s moved out of ICU and Sean’s parents are on the way, I’m not as needed.”
Declan had done so well overnight that the medical staff had decided to move him to the PCU. The progressive care unit was a step toward a general surgical recovery floor, although Declan still had several milestones to meet before discharge. My nursing instincts told me he’d likely need a stay in a rehabilitation unit as well, but that was a future bridge to cross. Right now, he and Sean needed to take things one day, heck, one hour, at a time.
“You’re always needed, but I know what you’re saying. You need to get back.” Denver collected all our trash on his tray before dumping it into a nearby trash can.
“Good riddance to that salad.” I looked longingly at the frozen yogurt machine, but I’d already eaten too many sweets this week. “And yeah. I’ve been checking in with work and Eric the whole time, but I’m ready for my own bed and my dog. And I want to save some leave in case someone else needs my help down the line.”
“Or you could live a little. Take a vacation. Never heard of you taking a day off, let alone a trip.” Denver led the way out of the cafeteria.
“I’m on a trip right now.”
“Hardly what I meant.” Denver’s tone was affable. He wasn’t the argumentative type, even when he was right. “And having your car is handy, but we can always rent one. Maybe we should get Sean’s opinion before you decide.”
“Okay,” I agreed as he hit the elevator button to take us back up to the PCU floor, where we’d left Sean visiting with Declan and an entourage of racing folks. News that Declan was awake had spread quickly, and most of the people who had clogged the waiting room the first day were back. To my mind, there were too many of them, all in motocross sweatshirts and with a vested interest in hurrying Declan right back to the track.