Love at First - Kate Clayborn Page 0,111

really,” said Dr. Terano. “After you’re out, that’s the bigger challenge. How accessible is this building you’re in? Is there an elevator?”

Jonah laughed, as though the very thought was ridiculous. Will looked over at Nora, something about her expression tugging at his memory, but he couldn’t get a grasp on it, not when Dr. Terano was still talking to Jonah about the building.

“Stairs might be fine for you, eventually, but the thing is, your grip strength will need a lot of work, so railings aren’t always going to be reliable assists for you. If the stairs are narrow, or steep—”

Will cringed, thinking of all the times he’d gone up and down those steps over the last few months.

“What about one of those chairs?” Nora said. “The mechanical ones, to go up and down?”

“Won’t work,” Will answered, without thinking beyond the immediate thing, the practical thing, the thing that he felt like he’d been handling safely for hours. “Three flights and landings in between.”

His second mistake. Nora looked at him with such naked betrayal that his stomach cramped.

“He’s got a poi—” Jonah began.

“He doesn’t live there,” Nora said to Dr. Terano, and Will knew, he knew he’d messed up. Even Dr. Terano knew. She caught his eye and a silent professional communication passed between them: Not the best time to look too far ahead with the family.

“We can figure this out later,” Will said, taking a step toward Nora. “No need to rush a thing like this.”

“Dr. Sterling is right,” she said cheerfully, and while he was grateful, the use of his title made everything feel about ten thousand times worse. “First order of business is getting ready for the hand surgery, then we can think about where Mr. Hajduk heads next.”

“First order of business is calling my woman!” Jonah practically shouted, obviously similarly relieved to get a break from this conversation. “Nora, I’m going to need that tablet so I can do a video call.” He looked to Will, his grin skewed by his still-swollen face. “Chicks dig scars, and all that.”

Dr. Terano laughed, and promised to come by again later, dipping her hands beneath the sanitizer dispenser and rubbing them together on her way out, washing her hands of this whole messy scene.

And then it was only the three of them, and the silence was deafening.

“Let’s review the facts.”

Will sighed and stared down at the pavement of the hospital parking lot, avoiding eye contact with Gerald Abraham, who loomed above him in his white coat and projected a profound energy of disapproval at the state of Will’s clothing and also possibly his emotions.

“Sure,” said Will, because if he’d been desperate enough to contact Gerald forty-five minutes ago when Nora had basically kicked him out of Jonah’s room, he was also desperate enough to do this Gerald’s way.

“You spent the night at the hospital with your girlfriend—”

“We ought to get the terminology right,” Will said, because there was something wrong with him, clearly. His Abraham mimicry was off the charts, though he had not used any emojis in his text message requesting a meeting. “I don’t know if she’s technically my girlfriend.”

“Fine.”

Will wondered if the man would take out his notebook and start recording this humiliation in shorthand.

“You spent the night at the hospital with the woman you’re involved with.”

Also doesn’t sound right, thought Will, but whatever. He nodded.

“She was there for her neighbor, who is also something like a . . . what would you say? Uncle?”

“Not uncle,” said Will, knee-jerk. “More like grandfather, maybe.”

“Fine,” Gerald repeated. “And the news is not positive for his return to his current home?”

Will swallowed, shifting on the bench that usually served as a pickup spot for a parking shuttle service. “Hard to say,” he lied.

“A metal rod in his femur and delicate hand surgery still to come? Eighty years old? Three flights of stairs?”

Jeez, all right. Gerald really went in for the facts. Pretty good thing he hadn’t been in the room for Dr. Terano’s visit.

“Correct. But I didn’t say that. I only—”

“You brought up the third floor.”

Gerald was a pretty good listener; that was the thing, even if Will had spent the first ten minutes of this conversation telling a very disorganized version of the events of the last two days. Jonah’s fall. Nora’s rushed return from San Diego and their seeming reconciliation. This morning’s meeting, and Nora’s insistence afterward that she would “take it from here.” He’d tried to stick to the plan he made: suggested that they call Benny,

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