the life out of you?”
“It’s not a problem.”
“You look like Selene.” He smiled, sadness in his voice. “You have her gentle heart, as well.”
“I’m not her,” I said, firmly. “My name is Briseis.”
His eyes widened. “Like the Greek myth.”
I nodded. “I’ll get you the comfrey if you promise not to sneak around the house anymore. It’s not safe.” Not for him, anyway, and not only because of the plants. Mom and Mo might put his ass back in the hospital if he showed up again.
He lifted his right hand. The sores on his forearm were open and oozing. “Scout’s honor.”
“Come by when you’re better.”
I exited Mr. Morris’s room. The officer had retaken his seat outside and whipped his head toward me.
“How’d you get in there?”
“Sorry, it—it was the wrong room.”
He narrowed his eyes at me as I rushed down the hall and made a quick turn into the waiting area. Karter sat there in a chair facing the nurse’s station, his ankle propped on a coffee table, a bag of ice strapped to it with an ACE bandage. He held his phone to his ear.
“It’s a sprain. It’s not bad. It’s not gonna mess anything up.” He slumped in the seat.
I stuck out my hand. He had to be talking to his mom. “Let me talk to her. This is my fault.”
He shook his head. “Mom, I gotta go. I gotta take Briseis home.” She said something and he grunted in return, then hung up.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“It’s fine,” Karter said. He got to his feet, testing his weight on his injured ankle. “She’s worried I’m gonna miss my shift at the bookshop. She don’t care about the ankle.”
“What do you mean she doesn’t care? She’s your mom.”
He tilted his head, his brow arched. He opened his mouth to say something, then changed his mind. “Come on.”
Karter limped toward the elevator. I ducked under his arm and slid my hand around his waist so he could put his weight on me.
He smiled. “Thanks.”
“I got you.”
“How’s the guy?” he asked. “Still alive, I’m guessing?”
“He’s a mess but I think he’ll be okay.”
I helped Karter outside and into his truck. “I’d offer to drive, but we’d probably end up right back in the hospital with somethin’ a lot worse than a sprained ankle. I don’t even have a license.”
“I’m good,” Karter said. “Really.”
I climbed in on the passenger side. I felt guilty for dragging him into this. “She was pretty mad, huh? I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
“Like I said, not your fault.”
“I’m the one who asked you to come up here.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Maybe it is your fault.” He narrowed his eyes, and we both laughed. “Our relationship is . . . complicated. It always feels like I’m fuckin’ up, like I’m not doing or saying the right thing.”
I sat back as he turned on the truck and pulled out of the parking lot.
“Sorry,” he said, staring straight ahead. “That was too personal.”
“No, it’s okay,” I said. “So, you guys have a tough relationship?”
He hesitated before letting his shoulders fall and shaking his head. “I wouldn’t say tough. I love her more than anything. She expects a lot from me. Makes me feel like I’m always letting her down.”
“Because you twisted your ankle?”
“It’s not just that.” He sighed heavily. “It’s nothing. I need to stop being so emotional.”
“Nah, don’t say that,” I said. “Emotional is good.”
His mouth drew up into an amused smile. His phone buzzed in his pocket as we pulled up to the house. He put the car in park, then glanced at the screen and sighed. “She don’t know when to quit.”
I hopped out, grabbing the bag of field guides. “Whatever’s happening between you and your mom, I hope it gets better,” I said. “And you can absolutely talk to me if you need to.”
He smiled, but it was all mouth and no eyes. “Wanna get breakfast tomorrow?”
“Or you can come over and I can make you breakfast!” Mo came bounding toward the truck, rubbing her hands together.
“How did you even hear what he said?” I asked. “Were you waiting on the porch?”
“Yes,” said Mo, unapologetic.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” said Karter.
“Come by about nine. I make a killer Belgian waffle.”
“You’ve never made a waffle in your whole life,” I said. I’d never met anybody who could cook lunch and dinner so well but couldn’t make breakfast food to save their life. That was why