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“Thank you, Aunt Loppie.” She squeezed me as much as her small arms could handle.
“You’re welcome, pip-squeak.” I adjusted her mask before I straightened to Beau’s glare, Mark’s smile and wink, and Elliot’s pinched lips that I knew were suppressing a smile.
I made it back to his bedside, if only to do another once-over. I catalogued every bruise, graze, making sure to place the blame where it deserved to be.
On me.
Jasper did that.
And Jasper wouldn’t have even known Elliot existed if it wasn’t for me.
“You’re adopting a kitten?” he asked in disbelief.
“I wouldn’t let your sacrifice be in vain,” I snapped. “And there’s no way it doesn’t have some disease. It’s likely on death row as we speak.” I added the last part low so Clara didn’t hear.
Elliot choked out another thin chuckle that I felt in my throbbing chest.
“I love you, Calliope Derrick.”
I lurched back at the unexpected words, ones he’d never said. I blinked at him. Once. Twice. Then I turned back to his family and the fire chief. “What kind of painkiller is he on?”
“Nothing stronger than Advil.” His father wore a knowing smile.
I stepped back. “Not acceptable. Aren’t we in an opioid crisis? I’m going to find a doctor with a heavy trigger finger for Oxy.Shouldn’t be that hard.” Then I stomped off, without a second glance. Cruel, but I couldn’t stay in that room without saying those three words back. Which would’ve been worse.
Much worse.
I spent the day arguing with doctors. On my phone with my own personal doctor in New York, spitting off what I’d read on Elliot’s commandeered chart, demanding to know if his current treatment was sufficient. If it wasn’t, I was going to charter a fucking medevac to ensure that Elliot got the best care money could buy.
Elliot had argued against all of this, as men were apt to do. But I’d ignored him, only taking note that he was well enough to argue with me, grinning through most of it.
His doctor hated me. I didn’t give a fuck.
My only goal was to ensure that Elliot got the best care possible, that he didn’t die, that he didn’t suffer any more than he needed to.
He had a couple of broken ribs, smoke inhalation, and a concussion. Lucky, considering half a building had collapsed on him. Half aburning building.
His suffering already lay heavy on my shoulders. His family’s worry. Clara being subjected to more hospital walls when most of her short life had been spent between them. The stress behind his father’s smile and soft-spoken words, the shadows behind Beau’s already shrouded grimace.
Clara left first. Hannah, the new nanny, arrived to pick her up, all smiles and sunshine despite the heavy glower Beau gave her without reason. I caught a few sideways glances from her to him, her posture shrinking slightly as she looked at the man. Myfocus shifted to Clara with promises about Fluffy, who I was sure was living on borrowed time. It was while seeing her excitement about her new friend that I realized I’d given myself the future problem of explaining Fluffy’s death.
On second thought, after seeing Beau’s sharp dismissal of Hannah, I decided that would be her father’s job.
“It wouldn’t kill you to smile, you know,” I told Beau who was still scowling at the door Hannah had walked out of hand in hand with his daughter.
He redirected his ire my way, but unlike the college-aged nanny, I could stand it.
“Men have been telling women to smile since the dawn of time.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Turnabout is fair play. And fair play is also about being nice to the person looking after your daughter. Who is doing a great job, by the way, and whom your daughter adores.”
Beau’s gaze turned nuclear.
I tilted my head and smiled at him. “You don’t scare me with the glares and grunts, buddy. Be nicer to your nanny.”
I could practically see his gears grinding, probably calculating whether it was worth it to swear at me or curse my name or whatever it was he did when he exploded. But then his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, likely swallowing all those words. He’d probably get an ulcer. Maybe that’d teach him to be nicer.
“I need to get to the restaurant.” His venomous gaze landed on Elliot. “Good luck. I’ll call to check on you, but you’ve got a dragon to breathe fire in case your water isn’t refilled quick enough, so I doubt you’ll have any trouble.”
I put my hand on my heart. “A dragon? That’s the nicest thing any man has ever called me.” I flashed my teeth at him.