Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“I am.” I glance across the room at her, sitting beside the patient and holding her hand. She’s the kindest soul I’ve ever known.
“Love runs deep like a river through your veins. No matter how long you’re apart, the other person is always with you.”
I’m feeling seen in ways that make me shift in the chair, but I push past that and reply, “It does for me.”
“It does for her, too. She doesn’t talk about you because she’s always so uptight.” I smile along with her, appreciating those qualities about Cat now that I know where they stem from—strength. “But I also see the change. She’s a pretty girl, but she carried sadness in her eyes that even a smile couldn’t hide.”
“I don’t remember sadness. I only remember sunshine.”
Touching me gently on the wrist, she says, “That’s because she shines for you. That’s how love works when you find your person.” I have a feeling she knows this for a fact. She checks her watch. “Want to watch Wheel of Fortune with me?”
Cat looks like she’s going to be caught up for a while. “I’d love to, Maggie.” I stand and then assist her getting up.
She quickly latches onto my arm, leading me straight for the ugly beige couch in the middle of the room. “Invite me to the wedding.”
“What wedding is that?”
She looks back at Cat. When she turns back to me, she smiles. “I’m not going to live forever, so hurry up and make her your wife.”
“I intend to.”
Thirty-five minutes later . . .
Maggie has slept through the show more than she’s watched it. But every time her eyes opened, she looked to make sure I was still here. So I stay until I get a tap on my shoulder. “Hi,” Cat whispers. “Want to go outside?”
Maggie perks up and looks in my direction. “It was good to see you again.”
“You, too.”
“Maggie, do you think Shane’s still my Marty?” I have no idea what Cat means, but she’s smiling like it’s a good thing.
Maggie rests her arm on the back of the couch and angles toward her. “No.”
“No?” Cat asks, surprised. “I thought—”
“No. This is your Henry, Nurse Cate.” Maggie reaches her hand out, and Cat takes hold of it between both of hers. “It’s not about one kiss. It’s about a lifetime, an eternity together, creating a family, and loving each other through the years.” Maggie says, “Martys are fun. Henrys are forever.”
Turning back to me, Maggie taps her watch. “Seal the deal, Mr. Big and Strong. Time is a tickin’.”
I wink, and she winks right back. Cate takes my hand when I come around the couch, and says, “She’s a spitfire.”
“She sure is.”
We walk into the sunshine and down to the corner. Holding my fob for me, she says, “No dings.”
It’s funny how that car used to be my pride and joy. Now it’s the cargo inside. “Good to hear.” I hand her the Toyota keys as we stroll to the Ferrari. “It was good to see you in action.”
“It’s good to see you, too,” she says. “I have to say if I weren’t already charmed by you . . .” She signals back to the building. “Seeing you in there with Maggie would have done it.”
“She’s a nice lady and thinks highly of you.”
Humility creases her cheeks into a smile. My sweet girl. “Before I forget, I got you a diagnostic assessment with Dr. Lazlo in Beverly Hills. Unfortunately, he’s so booked, he can’t see you for six weeks.”
Always thinking of me. “Thank you. I appreciate you doing that for me.”
“I’ll help however I can. I’ll send you the details so you can check the tour schedule for any conflicts.” She starts to lean in for a kiss but stops herself and looks back at the building. Taking my hand, she pulls me to the other side of the car. “Dragging me into the shadows to have your way with me?”
“I wish.” She throws her arms around my neck and kisses me instead. It’s a solid substitute. Pulling back, she sinks back on her heels, but since she’s standing on a curb, she’s closer to eye level. “So what happened this morning? Did you talk to Roberta?”
“I talked to Roberta.” Why does doing the right thing feel so fucking wrong?
“And? What did she say?”
I run my fingers through my hair and glance toward the intersection. It’s not the light that has my attention. It’s a long lens. Fuck! “Get down.”
“What the hell?” She’s lying in the dirt, pushing herself up and then dusting her hands off. “You got my white coat dirty.”
“Sorry, babe.” I peek up, still spying the lens just above the bushes at the corner.
She huffs. “I like the way you get to lie low on the cement while I’m tossed in the flower bed. What the hell?”