Page 54 of Sinful Seduction
“I got a call from the hospital, too.” She tilts her head back, peeking up at me. “Did you know Steve elected me as his medical proxy in the event he can’t make decisions himself?”
“I… uh…”Catch up, Archer! Jesus. “Yeah. Nicki called me a bit ago about Molly. Steve came up. Why are you so happy?”
“Because he’s not in a coma anymore.” She leads me across the lobby like space toward the doors. But her happiness falters as we pass a little old lady perched on a visitor chair, her eyes narrowing as the woman shakily pushes to her feet and nervously brushes her dress down. “She…” Minka scowls, her lips firming into flat lines. Finally, she unlinks our arms. “Hang on. I’ll be back in a second.”
The woman’s eyes dim, sadness falling over her like a cloak as Minka turns on her heels and strides to the security desk. She chats to the guard, who weighs an easy two hundred and fifty pounds. Nodding. Shaking her head. She hands down orders and gets his nod of approval. Then she turns again, walks past me, and heads to the woman whose glassy eyes spill over.
Her emotions sit too close to the surface. Her pain. Her sorrow.
Minka chats with her, hushed whispers, gentle glances. She gestures toward the guard, then pats the woman’s frail arm. Finally, she hands a business card over, just like she did for Molly, then she turns for the last time and comes back to me. “We can go.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” She slips her arm around mine and leads me through the revolving glass door. The hot air smacks us with a violent whoosh, vicious enough to take a man’s breath away. “She lost her husband yesterday, and she’s drowning in her grief. She doesn’t seem to know what the hell she’s supposed to do now that he’s gone.”
“So… she hangs out at the George Stanley?”
“Mmm. Ironic, considering he’s not even inmyfridges. I told security to call her a cab and help her leave. She can’t stay in our building overnight, and she swears she doesn’t want us to contact anyone else.”
“You think she’s incapable of taking care of herself?”
She shakes her head, holding my arm tight enough to tell me her knee is bothering her more than she’s willing to say out loud. “I think she was perfectly self-sufficient before yesterday. She and her husband, Theodore,are nearing ninety, but he was still driving. They were still cooking and cleaning and living independently. His death rocked the hell out of her.” Thoughtful, she nibbles on her bottom lip and frowns. “If you and I make it all the way till ninety, and then you up and die without warning, I bet I’d be a little lost, too. I hardly cook now, and I spend all my time at the morgue. In reality, she’s me. I’m her.” She presses her free hand to her chest. “I’d have no friggin’ clue what I was supposed to do with my life after that.”
“Arsenic.” I bring her hand closer and nibble on her knuckles. “We’ll pick an age—Ninety. Ninety-five. Whatever—and when we get there, instead of risking one of us going out and leaving the other behind, we’ll cook up a nice final meal, say goodbye to our friends, fuck ourselves raw, and then we’ll take the pill and fall asleep in each other’s arms.”
“Romantic.” She snuggles into my side, snickering and limping. “Still sounds better than being told to go home. Go home to what? Go home todowhat? Sit there and stare at a wall?” She shakes her head. “It’s not for me. I don’t know if that makes Steve extra lucky, or extra unlucky.”
And back to Steve we go.“How so?”
“He’s getting older, but he doesn’t have to worry about losing the love of his life. She doesn’t have to worry about losing him. He’s had all these years, functioning and living, happy and free. Makes him lucky that no one is staring at a wall today, waiting for him to get better.”
Except you. Metaphorically.
“But… he’s also ridiculously unlucky.” She sighs. “Because he doesn’t getthis. He doesn’t get to love the way Donna loves Theo. The way Theo loved Donna. He doesn’t get what you and I have.”
“Unlucky indeed.” We cross from one city block to the next, stepping off the curb and up again on the other side. “Worrying about you sucks. A fuckin’ lot,” I grunt. “But being with you is the best thing I’ve ever known. The good outweighs the bad.”
“Exactly.” She peeks up at the hospital as we near it, the multi-level building not quite as tall as the George Stanley, but taller than our apartment complex. “The good outweighs the bad, and it’s kinda tragic to know Steve has made it all this way, but he’s never had the love we stumbled on.”
“Stumbled?” Laughing, I drag my arm free of hers, but then I drape it across her back and tug her in, holding her hip and taking a little more of her weight. “Did you stumble, Minnnka? Or were you forced in, kicking and screaming?”
“Both.” She slides her hand into my back pocket. “Was kinda madabout all the fuss back then. But I’m glad now. You don’t mind that we’re going to see Steve, do you?” And still, she veers toward the hospital, onto the emergency room driveway, under the shelter, and then through the doors and out of the heat. Every time we move from inside to out, outside to in, the change in temperature blasts my system and sends my body into a temporary state of shock.
Not something that seems to bother Minka at all.
She leads me through the emergency room and across to the bank of elevators. Then, slapping the call button, she steps back and meets my eyes. “The doctors said they’re bringing him out, so I wanted to be here for it.”
I lead her into the elevator once the doors open, pulling her weight up and giving her knee a break. “Is he awake yet? Did they say?”
“Nah.” She selects the ICU floor. “If he’s awake, he hasn’t been that way for long. If he’s still asleep, then I don’t expect him to be for much longer.”
“And then… what?”
Curious, she peeks up. “What?”
“Will you run into his arms, crying and declaring your love?”
She purses her lips, lowering her soured gaze. “Of course not. In fact, I intend to lecture him on the necessity of adequate water intake in the summer, fewer layers of clothing, more rest, and a freakin’ echocardiogram every now and then. If he’d had his blood drawn at any point this year, he’d have known his LDL levels were high and he was at risk of a heart attack. He lives a sedentary lifestyle, Archer. He’s old, and he’s overweight. These are all giantgonna have a heart attack, stupid! signs. But no, he’d rather act as a security detail for a building that doesn’t need one, haunting the stairwell in inappropriate clothes and keeping tabs on what the rest of us are doing.”