“I’m on it.” He gave them all a mock salute and walked out of the hospital room feeling ridiculously like a superhero.
* * *
After the pizza and milkshakes, Sage read aloud until both Eli and Heidi were sleeping. Then she said good-night to the nurse before she and TJ walked to the lobby. She was tired, but she was also relieved. Eli was showing definite signs of improvement. He’d finished his entire milkshake and even had a couple bites of pizza.
“I’ll be back tomorrow morning,” TJ said as they approached the bank of glass doors.
“I know you will.”
They were going to have to work this out somehow. But for now, the best she could do was one day at a time.
“Where’s your car?” he asked, stopping as she turned left on the sidewalk.
The parking lot was to the right.
“I’m taking the bus.”
He closed the gap between them. “Why would you do that?”
She didn’t want to tell him. But she didn’t want to make a big deal about it either.
She kept her tone blasé, matter-of-fact. “I don’t have a car.”
He blinked. “Who doesn’t have a car?”
“Me.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t.”
“How do you get to work?”
She could hear the diesel engine and the air brakes of a bus coming up the hill. She pointed to it.
“That’s crazy,” he said.
She didn’t like it much, but she’d sold her car a month ago when they’d started doing tests on Eli. Their meager insurance policy didn’t begin to cover all the costs.
“You need a car,” he said with authority.
“I had a car.”
“Did you crash it?”
“No, I didn’t crash it. I sold it.”
“Why would you—” He stopped, and his brows rose. “The medical bills.”
“Yes, the medical bills.”
There was no point in pretending. She was a single mother with a low-paying job and a sick child. Of all the things she had going for her in life, money wasn’t one of them.
“As of this second,” TJ said, “there are no medical bills. You have no medical bills.”
“You can’t—”
“I can, and I am. How much have you paid so far?”
“None of your business.”
“You want me to guess?”
“No, I don’t want you to guess.” It was her pride arguing with him. There was no practical purpose for insisting on footing the bill herself. From everything she knew, he had money to burn.
“I’ll drive you home.”
“I have a bus pass.”
“It’s nearly eleven. You’re not getting on the bus.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “I’m a functioning adult, TJ. I don’t need you or anyone else to take care of me. I’ve been on this bus dozens of times at night. And I don’t need your permission to do it again.”
“I’m offering you a simple favor.”
“You’re…” She paused. She was exhausted, and it was twenty minutes until the Number Seven bus arrived. She had to transfer at the downtown station, which would mean an additional fifteen-minute wait before she boarded the final bus. She was being a fool to turn him down.
She closed her eyes for a second. “Okay. Thank you. That will be quicker.”
“Are you always this stubborn?”
She gave him a glare.
“I mean good. My car is this way.” He pointed to the south lot.
“I’m used to being self-reliant,” she said, although she didn’t owe him an explanation.
“Your life has changed,” he said.
“So has yours.”
He used his remote to unlock the doors to a low-slung red sports car.
“Drastically,” she added, contrasting it to the fifteen-year-old minivan she’d recently sold.
He opened the passenger door and stood waiting for her to get in. “We’re in this together, Sage.”
She didn’t like his phrasing. “We have a common interest.”
“We have a child together.”
She didn’t have another response, so she got into the car.
The seats were smooth leather, cool and comfortable, cradling her body, filling the car with a subtle earthy scent. The navigation screen and dashboard made her think of a space shuttle. The seat belt came out smoothly, clipping effortlessly together.
TJ swung into the driver’s seat.
“Where to?” he asked, pressing the start button.
“North on Fairton Road.”
“You live downtown?”
“It’s close to work.”
Her rented basement suite was in an older part of the city. Gentrification was taking place near the water, but it hadn’t yet made it to Fir Street. That kept rent low, for which she was grateful. But the nearby development was also pushing trouble closer and closer to her block.