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Danny had thought he’d seen warmth in those eyes, but it was nothing to the heat that flared through them at his comment, silly as it was.

Well then, that cleared up where this guy stood on some dude-on-dude flirting, that was for sure. He was definitely into it on some level. Warmth pooled in Danny’s stomach.

Danny was just about to see if he could get an actual smile out of the guy, when he heard Chloe calling his name from the other room. “We’ve got someone coming in. Five minutes out!” she yelled.

It only took a second for Danny to glance down the hallway, but by the time he turned his head back to the front, the stranger was already gone.

Well, that was…unsettling.

Was the guy some kind of ninja? Cat burglar? A literal cat, perhaps? Danny had never known someone to move so quietly.

He knew he should be relieved that he didn’t have to deal with the odd, intense stranger anymore, especially with a patient coming in, but he still found himself wishing the man would come back.

At least long enough for Danny to get another sniff.

Oh God, he was thinking about sniffing strangers again. Who’s the creep now? He put those blue eyes out of his head and got up to help get a bay ready.

It was an appropriate reminder—he didn’t have time for guys, strange or otherwise.

Danny was out the hospital door by 6:00 a.m. on the dot, having had no report to give to the oncoming nurse.

They’d already gotten their new patient up to a room.

He supposed he could have told her about the strange, tall man with piercing blue eyes possibly wandering the halls, but at this point, he wasn’t 100 percent sure he hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing.

He immediately threw on his sunglasses, almost blinded by the morning sunlight.

Once a friend to him and his olive complexion, the sun had become his enemy after he’d started working nights.

Too harsh after twelve hours under hospital fluorescents.

And while winter mornings were cold in Hyde Park, they still tended to be bright, with the exception of when there was the occasional snowstorm.

Danny chugged the last of his now cold coffee, willing himself to stay awake just a little longer.

What he was desperately craving was to scarf down some cereal and face-plant into bed, but it was not to be. Mornings were her best time of day, and he didn’t want to let her down.

He somehow found himself pulling into a familiar parking lot ten minutes later, having driven himself there in practically a fugue state. He wondered for the hundredth time if it was even safe to be driving after a night shift.

Maybe I should start taking the bus after work?

He parked quickly and pulled down the sun visor to catch his reflection on the inside mirror.

It was worse than he thought.

His chocolate-brown hair, the curls left longer than he’d like for no other reason than he always forgot to make an appointment to get it cut, was sticking up all over the place.

He licked his fingers and tried to flatten the worst offenders.

Normally he’d throw a baseball cap over it all, but in this case—depending on the amount of lucidity waiting for him inside—he was liable to get a scolding for wearing a hat indoors.

The shadows under his eyes he could do nothing for, other than turn back time and get significantly more sleep over the past two years.

“All right, stud. Let’s go see our girl.” And there he was, still talking out loud to himself. At least he was alone in his car, no one lurking around corners to overhear him.

Approaching the front desk, Danny could already hear the sounds of the usual bustle of morning activity filling the carpeted halls.

“Danny! So good to see you, sweetie. You just coming off work?” The receptionist rounding the front desk was one of his favorites. A sweet older woman who always managed to treat him with empathy that somehow never edged into pity.

Danny felt himself grin wide despite his fatigue. “Hey, Mary. I look that terrible, huh?”

“Please, honey, you couldn’t look terrible if you tried.

” She gave him a brief hug. “You’ve got half the old biddies in this place asking after you every time you leave.

You don’t want to hear the things they’d try with you if they were only half a century younger,” she teased.

“It’s just that full set of luggage you’re carrying under those doe eyes that gave you away. ”

“Dang it! Knew you’d call me out on those,” he laughed, not offended in the slightest.

“Some good sleep and good food would take care of them.” Her expression turned serious, and he sensed a lecture coming. “I’m starting to think you need a keeper. I’d feel better if you had someone looking after you. Isn’t your brother back in town? Why doesn’t he—”

Danny broke in before she could get any further. “He’s doing his best, I promise. Residency took a lot out of Gabe. He’s just getting his feet back under him. I’m sure you’ll start seeing more of him soon.” He cleared his throat. “And I don’t need anyone looking after me.”

He didn’t sound convincing even to himself, but Mary was kind enough to drop it. She gave a small sigh and then was back to her cheerful self, smiling warmly at him. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s take you to see her.”

He knew the way by heart, but Mary always liked to walk him back like an honored guest. As they approached the familiar door, wide open to the room inside, she gave his arm a squeeze. “Just a warning, she’s been calm so far, but it’s not her best day overall.”

That was all right. They hadn’t had a “best day” in he couldn’t remember how long.

The woman seated in the armchair in the corner of the room didn’t seem to notice his arrival, her eyes on a television playing an old black-and-white western.

“Good morning, Gladys,” he called out softly, entering the room. He’d learned long ago that calling her by name could prevent a good day from going bad right off the bat. Otherwise, he would end up sowing confusion and then the inevitable anxiety.

There would be no more “Good morning, Mom.” Not for Danny.

His mother turned her head from the TV then, a hesitant smile on her face.

She shared his coloring (or used to, before her hair had grayed) and his nose, but the similarities ended there—her chin was sharper, her lips thinner, and her brown eyes smaller, tilted up at the corners, whereas Danny’s were round and wide.

But still, you could see the relation at a glance—certain expressions and mannerisms they both shared.

She had raised him to be who he was, and that left a certain mark.

“Good morning.” She greeted him politely, without a hint of recognition. “Can I help you?”

“I just came for a little visit.” He kept his voice light and cheerful, suppressing any hint of disappointment. “If you’re not too busy?”

Her expression remained hesitant, but at least she didn’t look annoyed or fearful. It could be worse. “Oh no, not too busy. Watching my show though.” She pointed at the TV with a trembling finger.

“That’s okay. I can just watch with you, if you don’t mind.” He sat himself down in the chair across from her.

The room was sizable, with a large bed in the corner, an attached bathroom, and then the makeshift living room they were currently making use of, with two armchairs and a television. A decent place to live overall—he’d made sure of it, trusting himself to make it work financially somehow.

He was managing but just barely.

They sat in silence for a long while. Occasionally during commercials, she asked after him in a vague sort of way, the kind of questions you might ask a stranger, or they discussed the weather, what they were watching.

Some days were like this—she would be content with keeping things light, aware maybe that she knew him in some way but not digging to find out how. Other days she thought he was his father and greeted him by that name.

He’d learned to go along with it, to be content with the knowledge that she knew she loved him, even if she couldn’t remember exactly who it was she loved.

More important was that she knew she was loved, that there were people out there who cared for her.

Danny could tell when the conversation started to take a toll on her, as it was beginning to now. Her questions began to repeat themselves, her responses to his questions grew more sporadic, and her reactions became slightly more awkward.

Mary was right: it wasn’t his mom’s best day. But also not the worst. The worst could involve fierce mood swings, emotional breakdowns, screaming matches, an unwillingness to get out of bed or brush her teeth.

There’d been less of that since she’d moved into the care home. The scheduled routines, something he hadn’t been able to give her at home while working full-time, help calmed down some of the chaos in her mind.

“Okay, Gladys, I think I’m going to head out,” he made himself say, pushing up out of his chair. “But it was so nice talking to you. I hope to see you again soon.”

She gave a little nod at him but didn’t make eye contact. She was reaching her limit with social interaction, clearly. “Nice talking to you too,” she mumbled.

He made his way out of the facility, waving at Mary as he passed by. She simply waved back, not pulling him into any conversation, aware he wasn’t always up for talking after a visit with his mom.

It felt like every step he took was heavier than the last. He was just so tired .

He knew he should be grateful for days like this. Days she wanted to talk with him, even for just a little bit, even not knowing who he was. Days where her mood was good, where she was dressed and out of bed.

But sometimes he just wanted his mom. He wanted her to hug him, to know him.

Danny was starting to worry he’d passed the point of her ever recognizing him again. He just wished he’d known the last time had been the very last one.

He would have savored every second of it.

If tears streaked down his cheeks on the drive home, there wasn’t anyone around to see them.