again, when he wanted to start healing, when he wanted to put Shane’s name out in the air like that.
But part of him knew it’d been long enough. More than long enough.
“You’re right. Shane would have been an instigator, pushing us to do more and go further.” His words weren’t as confident. In fact, they were rather low and almost meant for the two of them. Like he couldn’t say it louder. But even talking about him was a step in the right direction. More than he’d done at any point before.
“Well, don’t let me stop you. But maybe you can remember that you are supposed to get some math done.” She looked around his shoulder. “Liam, maybe you can make sure this big oaf actually helps you with your math and does more than have eating contests with you, okay?”
Liam smirked. “I’ll give him five minutes to eat, then he needs to start doing math whether he likes it or not,” he said, eyeballing Preston in a rather exaggerated kind of way, but that was better than the sullen belligerence he’d shown this morning.
Preston wanted to turn and put his arms around Athena right then. She’d gotten a smirk out of the kid. And he seemed almost happy. Of course, food had a tendency to do that to boys, and maybe Athena knew that. Probably she did. She’d spent enough time around him and Andrew and Shane over the years.
Whatever they did, food was always involved. Even if it was freeze-dried and vacuum-packed, meant to go with them up a mountain.
He wanted to mouth a “thank you” to her, but she wasn’t looking at him, so he just turned, thinking that he’d thank her later. And maybe do a little more talking as well.
Chapter 9
“There’s mashed potatoes and mushroom gravy for supper,” Athena said as she held Joyce’s hand, bending over her bed, “and I also made an egg custard if you don’t feel quite up to the heartier stuff.” She gave her hand a squeeze, still amazed it didn’t feel thin or small or even weak really, but Joyce was dying nonetheless. “Okay?”
Joyce rolled her head and opened her eyes, squinting a bit before she seemed to get her bearings.
“The room’s spinning.” She closed her eyes again. “I know it’s just me, but I feel dizzy when I have my eyes open.”
“Then keep them shut. It’s okay,” Athena said soothingly.
“I want you to fluff my pillows before you go. No one does it like you do.”
Thankful that Joyce had said that softly so that Kevin, the nurse who was spending the evening with Joyce, didn’t hear her, Athena didn’t say anything but adjusted the top pillow and then carefully arranged her shoulders before doing the other two.
“Is that good?”
“Yeah. Who’s your replacement?”
“Kevin.”
The hand that had been gripping hers tightened. “Don’t leave me here with him. He hates me.”
For a woman who was dying, her grip was surprisingly strong.
“I can speak to a supervisor tomorrow, and I can have Kevin reassigned.” Even though her voice was pitched low, she saw movement out of her peripheral vision in the doorway. She lifted her eyes. Thankfully, it was Preston.
She nodded and lifted her brows, hoping that he got her message and kept Kevin in the kitchen where he was putting his lunch in the refrigerator until she was done speaking with Joyce.
Not that this didn’t happen all the time. Especially with patients with brain injuries and tumors. Their personality shifted and changed sometimes for no reason at all. They said things that weren’t true, things that they would never say if their brain wasn’t being taken over by an intruder.
Athena was tempted to pat her hand and say, “I think this is Rusty talking,” but Joyce wouldn’t know it, and as a nurse, she was required to report any patient complaints.
It was just as likely that after she left, Joyce would complain to Kevin about her.
Again, this was something their supervisors knew and made allowances for.
“Can’t you report him now? Can’t you get me someone else?” Joyce’s voice held fear, and her grip was cutting off circulation in Athena’s fingers.
“If you’d like me to stay, I can.”
“Don’t leave me.” Joyce’s other hand came up, and now Athena’s fingers were clutched between both of her hands.
“I won’t. I’ll stay.” She tugged a little on her hands. “Let me go to the kitchen, and I’ll talk to Kevin. Maybe I can switch a shift with him until things get straightened out tomorrow. Okay?”
“You’re