hugged her again. “Now I must go.”
She made one more stop on her way back to the pub—Ward 5G North. She was anxious to see how Roy was doing and if he’d responded to the new antibiotics yet. She’d called the ward several times since she and Darcy had been in to see him yesterday, but the report was always the same—no change. That was to be expected. It took a while for the drugs to kick in. But by this morning, he should be responding.
Tracey was on duty at the nurses’ station. “How is he?”
“Roy?” Tracey reached for the logbook. “I just came on. Let me see... Here, you look.” She shoved the book at Emma and took the car seat. “I want to see my little sweetie pie. Hey, Billy, how’s my big boy?”
Emma scanned the entries from the residents’ morning round. Temp—37.2 C. Still a slight fever but his temperature was down from the other day. Blood pressure—160/110. Heart rate—105. Neither were good, but nor were they worse than before. She read on for the doctor’s notes. Infection appears to be responding to treatment. Continue prescribed course of oxacillin until further notice.
Emma released her breath. Thank God. She shut the logbook and pulled out her phone, glancing over at Tracey who held Billy and was letting him play with the watch pinned to her chest.
Emma punched in Darcy’s number. “I’m at the hospital,” she said when he answered. “I’ve got good news about your dad.”
She quickly filled him in on the details. “I’m going in to see him now. I’ve got Billy with me. I thought that might cheer him up.”
“Be careful Billy doesn’t get too close. We don’t want him picking up an infection.”
“The golden staph bacteria is everywhere. We’ve all got it on our skin. It’s only when someone’s immune system is impaired, like your father’s, that it can take hold. But don’t worry. I won’t let Billy touch anything. I’m the original clean freak, remember?”
“When do you think Dad will be discharged?”
“I couldn’t say. He’s not out of the woods yet. Sometimes these infections take time to clear up. But he’s definitely on the mend.” She paused. “I’ll be back after that. To finish packing.”
Darcy greeted that with silence. “Tony and Cerise are getting married.”
“That’s great.”
“They want us to come to their wedding.”
“Oh. Well, we’ll need two invitations. Did you tell him that?”
“No.” He was quiet for a long moment. “I’m starting to clear out the pub, getting rid of sixty years of accumulated bits and pieces.”
“So you’re really going ahead with renovations.”
“I told you I was.”
Emma thought of all the many and varied mementos, knickknacks and photos. “That’ll be hard. I’ll help you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I don’t mind.” Darcy would be going through a tough emotional time. She wanted to be there.
“Really, it’s something I’d rather do myself. If you have to pack, you could leave Billy with me.”
“Okay. Fine.” She felt stupid for pressing the matter. Stupid for feeling disappointed. She was the one leaving. The one who’d shut him down when he wanted to talk. The truth was, she was scared, mixed-up and confused. She didn’t want to remarry just for Billy’s sake. She wanted Darcy to love her. He’d spoken of reconnection, friendship and sex. Where was the love she wanted so badly, the love she needed and, yes, deserved, in spite of everything?
When she moved out he would want to see Billy, not her. Stupid of her to think they were going to hang out together like a family. Stupid to believe he’d changed how he felt about her because they’d made love. Stupid, stupid, stupid, for falling in love with him again and leaving herself vulnerable. Hadn’t she had enough heartache?
“Actually, that would be good.” She managed to say it coolly. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Em? Thanks for calling about Dad.”
“No worries.”
She clicked off and retrieved Billy from Tracey. “Come on, mate. We’ll see your grandpa quickly and head home—”
She caught herself but not before the thought had formed. When had she started thinking of the apartment over the pub as home? Not because it was so homey but because Darcy was there. The sooner she was disentangled from him and out from under his roof, the better off she’d be.
* * *
DARCY WAS ON a stepladder, untacking pennants and listening for Emma’s return when he heard the rear door to the pub open.
“We’re back.” She put Billy’s car seat on a table and pushed her hair