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For a second, I think Jake’s here to apologize. That’s the look he’s got on his face, that sort of humble expression. A little timid. But he doesn’t come right out and say he’s sorry, and I’m glad he doesn’t because I honestly couldn’t tell you right now what that boy has to feel bad about. Of course, some of that’s my mental fog. It’s like everything in that Grandma Lucy video was so intense, my brain cells have shut down one by one until all I’ve got are the basic functions left.
Jake looks me right in the eyes. I can hardly keep my heart from jumping out my throat. I seriously wonder if I’m going to gag on it. I’m not nervous about Jake being here. I’m just so confused and emotional after that whole prayer thing. It couldn’t have been worse timing for him to stop by.
Unless he came while I was wrapped up in the arms of a doctor I hardly know. But I don’t want to think about that right now.
Jake clears his throat. I can tell he’s about to die of embarrassment, and he says, “I talked with your friend. That doctor guy.”
Ok, now I’m nervous. I didn’t think he’d come to confront me about Eliot. I try to offer some sort of apology, but he cuts me short.
“Hear me out first. I got his name off his badge, called around until I figured out where he worked. Stopped by to talk to him.”
I’m surprised my eyes haven’t bugged out of my head by now. Jake actually confronted Eliot at his office?
“He said exactly what you did, that you guys knew each other back in Massachusetts, that you were having a real hard day, and that he was just there as a friend trying to comfort you.”
My face burns as I recall the soft feel of the skin on Eliot’s smooth jawline. I can’t think about that now. Instead, I look at Jake and nod.
“Anyway, he apologized, said he should have acted more professional. He’s a decent guy.”
I’m not sure if I’m supposed to agree with Jake or not. Is this a trap?
He’s staring off past my shoulder. What is he looking at? There’s nothing over there but a wall. “We got to talking. I told him we were thinking of moving to Seattle so Natalie could be closer to the hospital.”
My heart still doesn’t know if it’s supposed to keep racing or stop entirely. Is this how Grandma Lucy felt when her health was failing at County Hospital?
Jake clears his throat again. It sounds gross. I hope it’s not a new habit he’s developing. “So, Dr. Jamison said he knows a guy. This radiologist he works with. Says he’s got a home just three blocks from the Ronald McDonald House. I guess he lives in some ritzy suburb but keeps a little apartment local for when he works late. Anyway, he’s on vacation for the next two months. Poor guy’s off to some tropical island. But that means his apartment’s totally empty, and he’s looking for someone to stay there and water his plants. Keep an eye on things.” He clears his throat once more, quieter this time. “Rent free.”
I feel like I’m supposed to react a certain way. Half of my brain is telling me to jump up and down and scream like those singers who make fools of themselves on those TV talent shows. The other half of my brain is completely paralyzed while it tries to figure out why Jake looks so depressed. It’s like having someone tell you that there’s a million-dollar settlement check coming for you in the mail, but by the expression on his face you’d think he was saying your grandma just died.
“That would be cool,” I offer tentatively.
“Yeah.” Jake licks his lips. I still can’t figure out what’s so interesting about that wall he’s been staring at.
“So ...” I begin, hoping he’ll catch on and give me a little more information.
He pries his eyes away from the off-colored white and lets them glance over me for just a second. “So, I was wondering if ...” He clears his throat again. This is going to be hard to get used to. “I wanted to talk to you about ...” He glances again at Natalie in her crib. I swear he looks like he’s got a hundred nurses injecting him at once. “If Natalie gets released, I mean when she’s well enough to leave here, I wanted to know if you think we should stay there.” He swallows so hard I can see his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “You know. The three of us.”
His eyes stop their nervous darting and meet mine. I see fear and hopefulness and something else, too. Something I could probably name if my mind hadn’t just gone completely blank.
“Sure.” It’s not the appropriate response, but it’s the best I can conjure up. This time I’m the one to clear my throat, and I try again. “Yeah. That sounds like a pretty good plan.”