’s
not going to contact me at all, and that he’s still mad. Well, I’m still mad, too. I
throw myself into my work, pausing only at lunchtime for a cream cheese and
salmon bagel. It’s extraordinary how much better I feel once I’ve eaten
something.
At five o’clock Sawyer and I set off for the hospital to see Ray. Sawyer is
extra vigilant, and even oversolicitous. It’s irritating. As we approach Ray’s
room, he hovers over me.
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“Shall I get you some tea while you visit with your father?” he asks.
“No thanks, Sawyer. I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll wait outside.” He opens the door for me, and I’m grateful to get away from
him for a moment. Ray is sitting up in bed reading a magazine. He’s sha一ved,
wearing a pajama top—he looks like his old self.
“Hey, Annie.” He grins. And his face falls.
“Oh, Daddy . . .” I rush to his side, and in a very uncharacteristic move, he
opens his arms wide and hugs me.
“Annie?” he whispers. “What is it?” He holds me tight and kisses my hair. As
I’m in his arms, I realize how rare these moments between us ha一ve been.
Why is that? Is that why I like to crawl into Christian’s lap? After a moment, I
pull away from him and sit down in the chair beside the bed. Ray’s brow is
furrowed with concern.
“Tell your old man.”
I shake my head. He doesn’t need my problems right now.
“It’s nothing, Dad. You look well.” I reach over and clasp his hand.
“Feeling more like myself, though this leg in a cast is bitchin’.”
“Bitchin’?” His word prompts my smile.
He smiles back. “Bitchin’ sounds better than itchin’.”
“Oh, Dad, I am so glad you’re okay.”
“Me, too, Annie. I’d like to bounce some grandchildren on this bitchin’ knee
one day. Wouldn’t want to miss that for the world.”
I blink at him. Shit. Does he know? And I fight the tears that prick the corners
of my eyes.
“You and Christian getting along?”
“We had a fight,” I whisper, trying to speak past the knot in my throat. “We’ll
work it out.”
He nods. “He’s a fine man, your husband,” Ray say
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