“Yes, definitely. I’ve just been in to see her. Her condition is improving and we’re moving forward to the recovery phase.”
Relief swept through her. Her mother had seemed good during lunch, even making light conversation with Blake, but she was glad to have it confirmed.
“That’s wonderful. When can she go home?”
“She can be discharged as soon as tomorrow, but she’ll need a high level of care. She shouldn’t be up and walking around for another week or two.”
“I understand,” she promised. “I’ll stay with her.”
After a few more instructions, the doctor started to walk away.
“Um, Doctor?” She felt weird asking him this, but she’d made two full circuits around the hospital and hadn’t found what she needed. “Can you tell me where the restrooms are?”
He smiled kindly. “They’re on the other side, near the elevators. But there’s a smaller one down that hallway, third door on the right.”
She made her way down the small offshoot hallway and came in sight of a large, thick window with no bars. It overlooked the city, in all its glory—or lack thereof. She could recognize many of the old buildings downtown and even the stadium of her high school, which was larger and taller than the school’s building. The mostly flat skyline filled her with a sense of nostalgia for a simpler time and a smaller world. Now that she’d seen what lay beyond, she knew she’d never move back to this town.
Still, she felt gratitude for the mostly happy childhood it had given her.
A few chairs were lined up against the wall, and unlike those in the main waiting area, these were empty. She passed a utility closet stacked with white sheets and what appeared to be hospital gowns before finding the restroom.
After, she washed her hands and studied herself in the small mirror. No surprises there; she looked exhausted. She felt exhausted but also relieved. Her mother was well, even though there was her recovery to oversee. Blake was with her, even though they still needed to talk privately. Things weren’t perfect. Even better, they were real.
As she stepped outside, she almost averted her gaze when she noticed someone else in the hallway. Then she paused.
“Blake?”
He turned at the sound of her voice. “What are you doing back here?’
He had been looking out the large window, his body drawn in lines of tension, leaning toward the window as if he could break free. His eyes were clouded with something dark and unsettled.
She gestured vaguely. “The restroom. Are you okay?”
“Of course.”
Tension shimmered in the air. He looked on edge, his eyes sharp with an emotion she couldn’t name. “You know, with Doug. Nothing happened.”
“I know that.”
“I thought you might worry, since he drove me here.” He said all the right things, but she knew he wasn’t okay. It felt like walking off a cliff, that moment in a cartoon when you hung over the earth, waiting to fall. Her chest tightened. She forced herself not to reach for him.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
“No. I’m not angry. I was just worried about you…”
His smile was dark with self-recrimination. “I was playing pool, if you were wondering.”
“Pool?”
“At the Faculty Ball. We went down to the basement. There wasn’t any cell coverage.”
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It sounded so simple, but she felt her unease move through her bones. He hadn’t been interested in another woman. He hadn’t been spending the past few weeks realizing he could do better than her. Of course not. He was too loyal for that, but it didn’t change the facts.
She wasn’t worthy of him. Too poor, too young. Too helpless that she couldn’t even drive home to her sick mother in a time of need. And he was a powerful man, probably drinking alcohol in some dimly lit parlor, talking about politics and knowledge.
“Do you want to go back to the waiting room?” she said, feeling almost shy.