Bud was just being wheeled back into his room when Donovan and I returned. He looked between us and frowned. “Am I dying and no one’s telling me?”
Donovan shoved his hand into his pockets. “You’re too stubborn to kick the bucket, old man.”
“Damn straight.” Bud adjusted his covers. “How was service tonight? Did everyone get fed who needed to get fed?”
“They did. Dario and Ray helped me, so it was more like dinner and a comedy show, but no one is hungry right now.”
Bud nodded. “Good. Thank you.”
“Not a problem.”
Bud looked at me. “And you should be home sleeping, little lady.”
I smiled. “I just wanted to make sure everything came out okay with your scan.”
As if on cue, a doctor walked in. “Mr. Yankowski?”
“Name’s Bud. Frances Yankowski is only what my mother put down on the birth certificate to ensure I’d learn how to handle myself in the schoolyard.”
The doctor smiled. “Alright, Bud it is. I just took a look at your scan. Perhaps your company can wait outside while we talk about the results?”
Bud waved at me. “It’s fine. They’re family.”
The doctor explained that while the kidney seemed to be just bruised, the blood in Bud’s urine could be a sign of damage, and they needed to continue to monitor his urine and repeat the scan in twenty-four hours.
Bud shook his head. “I feel fine. I’m going home tomorrow morning. I’ll come back if it gets worse.”
“I’d prefer if you would give us two nights.”
“And I’d prefer to look like him.” He pointed at Donovan. “Yet I got stuck with this mug.”
Donovan spoke to the doctor. “You have any rules against patients being tied to the bed?”
The doctor smiled. “I’m afraid we do, son.”
Donovan raked a hand through his hair. “I’ll cover dinner again tomorrow. Dario will take care of your route during the day. We already discussed it.”
Bud folded his arms across his chest. “No fast-food crap. These people need a balanced meal.”
“I have to be in court all day tomorrow. Will hamburgers and hot dogs do? I can pick up a grill on my way over after work.”
“With what side dish?”
Donovan folded his arms across his chest, mimicking Bud’s usual stance. “Ketchup. It was once a tomato.”
It looked like a standoff was about to ensue, so I interjected. “I make a delicious broccoli salad. It goes great with burgers.”
Bud’s face softened. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“So we have a deal?” Donovan asked.
“Fine,” Bud grumbled. “But get whole wheat buns. All that processed flour isn’t healthy.”
Donovan mumbled under his breath. “Neither is fighting off carjackers.”
The doctor had been watching the negotiation like a tennis match. His brows rose. “So we have a deal, then? Mr. Yankow—I mean, Bud—is staying for at least another night or two?”
Bud held up a finger. “Not at least another night. One more night. Two, max.”
The doctor smiled. “I’ll take it. Let’s start there.”
After the doctor left, Donovan and I stayed a few more minutes before leaving Bud to get some rest. Donovan said he’d be back to check in on him before court, and I left Bud my phone number just in case he needed anything during the day tomorrow. After, Donovan walked me to my car.
He looked up at the streetlight I’d parked under. “Very good.”
“Why, thank you.”
“You don’t really have to make broccoli salad. I can pick up some store-bought sides when I grab the burgers.”
“Don’t be silly. I told Bud I’d do it, and I want to.”
Donovan smiled and nodded. “Okay, then. I can pick the salad up from you after I hit the supermarket to get the burgers after court.”
My brows furrowed. “What time do you get out of court?”
“Four thirty, unless we go late.”
“Why don’t I pick up the burgers when I get the stuff for the broccoli salad? I’m going to be at the store anyway.”
“You sure you don’t mind? That would actually be helpful because I also need to go pick up a grill to cook on since they stole all of his equipment.”
“Of course not. I’m happy to help.”
“Alright, then. Thanks.”
“I’d like to help serve dinner, too.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Okay, then, I’ll pick you up after I pick up the grill and other stuff I need, and we can ride over to serve dinner together. You’re going to have a lot of stuff to carry to and from the car.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Donovan dug into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out his wallet. “Take this credit card to pay for everything.”
I waved him off. “No need. I got it.”
“You’re not paying for all that food, Autumn.”
“You’re right. I’m not. I have a black card of my father’s that sits in my wallet collecting dust. He always tells me to use it for anything important to me, and this is.” I smiled. “I think I’ll buy top-of-the-line stuff—maybe Kobe beef burgers.”