Rhythm of the Road - Autumn Jones Lake Page 0,46

guitar and bags, I catch her still sitting in the passenger seat with her eyes closed.

By the time I make it to her side of the truck, she’s jumping down onto the pavement.

“I can take something.” She reaches for the guitar case but I shift sideways.

“I’ve got it.” I lift my chin toward the front of the building. “Go on. I’m right behind you.”

Inside is more homey than hospital-y but it’s still a sterile environment. Splashes of color and cartoon-filled posters attempt to make it kid-friendly but somehow it just makes the place more depressing.

A slender woman with chestnut hair wearing a green-print wraparound dress meets us by the front desk.

“Shelby Morgan, right? I’m Elaine.” She holds out her hand. “I can’t thank you enough for making time today.”

“No problem.” Shelby’s soft voice doesn’t carry far.

The woman’s confused gaze darts between Shelby and me.

Shelby touches my arm. “This is my friend, Logan. He offered me a ride today.”

I’ve offered you a lot more than a ride. But this isn’t really the time or place for off-color jokes. My hands are full, so I simply nod at the woman.

She thanks me and asks us to follow her down the long, wide corridor.

“Bethany is so excited. She really wanted to see you in concert last night, and we were trying to make that work. But her doctors couldn’t give the okay for the outing.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Shelby says.

We stop at a nursing station and Elaine confers with a woman in scrubs. They ask Shelby a few questions before allowing us to continue.

We walk to the end of a long corridor before stopping outside the last room on the left. A big window at the end of the hallway looks out into the parking lot. Elaine knocks on the door. Shelby turns and leans up on her tiptoes. “Can you send me the video you took last night?” she asks in a low voice.

“Sure.”

“Thanks.” She takes her guitar case from me, tucking it close to her body, careful not to knock into anything while entering the small hospital room.

Not wanting to intrude on the moment, I hang back, setting the bags on the windowsill behind me.

“Bethany, someone’s here to see you,” Elaine says in a cheery voice.

“Hi!” Even from where I’m standing, Shelby’s bright smile lights up the whole damn room. “Are you Bethany?”

“That’s me!” a little girl squeals.

The mom, who doesn’t look much older than Shelby, rests her hand over her heart. “Thank you so much, Shelby,” she says. “This means a lot.”

“I’m glad it worked out.”

“She’s having a good day, so…”

Shelby puts her arms around the woman’s shoulders, leaning close to say words that don’t reach me.

“Hi.” Shelby approaches the bed and Elaine hurries over to push a chair next to it for Shelby.

There’s not a lot of room to move around but somehow, Shelby sets her case down and pulls the guitar out. Their conversation’s soft and easy; most of it I can’t make out and I don’t dare move any closer or intrude. If my big ass could blend into the wallpaper, that’d be ideal.

Instead, I pull out my phone and send Shelby the videos from last night. Why didn’t I think to bring something with a bigger screen with us? We were right at the mall. I could’ve grabbed something.

“I wrote a song for you. Do you want to hear it and tell me what you think?” Shelby asks.

By the excited noises, I’m guessing Bethany’s answer is an enthusiastic yes.

Shelby strums a few upbeat notes and launches into a cute tune that consists of a bunch of words that somehow rhyme with Bethany in Shelby’s sassy twang. Her talent keeps on amazing me.

With tears in her eyes, the mom wanders into the hallway.

Even for a cynical bastard like me, this whole scene’s overwhelming.

The mom sniffles and then startles when she notices me leaning against the wall. “Are you Shelby’s husband?”

“Uh.” Fuck, I feel shitty even being here. “Her boyfriend.” What an inappropriate moment to test out that word for the first time. “And driver.” I force a smile, trying to keep things light. I’m sure the woman has enough darkness in her life.

“Well, thank you.” She sighs and glances into the room again. “When Bethany first got diagnosed, we were in the hospital a lot and somehow we got hooked on that show. We watched episodes of Redneck Roadhouse constantly. Bethany was obsessed, and she adored Shelby. This means a lot to her.”

Words. Think of some.

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