CHAPTER 27
1229 Words
CHAPTER 27
“Nick! Kennedy!” Sandy rushed toward them with open arms. After hugging Kennedy, she turned to Nick and put both hands on his shoulders. “What’s the deal with this shirt? You relearning your ABCs?”
Nick grinned and pointed to the two sets of alphabets. “The first one’s missing the L. Get it? The first ... No el. Like the carol.”
Sandy rolled her eyes and tucked her arm around Kennedy’s waist. “Well, at least you guys are here. Carl’s been worrying about you.”
“I have not,” came the gruff voice from the hospital bed.
Kennedy was used to seeing Carl in button-down shirts and slacks. She was almost embarrassed to witness him lying there in the blue and white floral hospital gown.
“Come on, I don’t look that bad, do I?” He stretched one arm out to give Kennedy a hug and turned to Nick. “Gonna shake you left-handed today, if you don’t mind.”
“How you doing, Pastor Carl?”
It was weird to hear Nick call him Pastor, but Kennedy couldn’t figure out why. Maybe because Nick was older than she was, and she had dropped the pastor title almost immediately after reconnecting with him here in the States.
“I’m all right.” Carl’s voice was strong. Booming. That in itself sent waves of relief coursing through her veins. “Doctor said I’ve got a fractured shoulder blade, but I’m just thankful to be alive and kicking.”
“Daddy?”
Kennedy didn’t recognize the woman standing in the doorway. Her heels made her look at least three inches taller than she really was. She rushed past Kennedy and Nick to Carl’s bedside.
“I got Mom’s text this morning, but I’m out of sick days, so I had to wait for my lunch break.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “The T took forever. I’ve only got ten minutes before I have to head back.”
“You didn’t have to come all this way, sweetie.” Sandy gave the woman a loving pat on the back. “You could have just called to talk to him.”
She sniffed. “I wanted to come by in person. Make sure ... You know, make sure ...”
“Your old man’s not about to croak?” Carl laughed. “Not anytime soon, babe. You’re just gonna have to wait three or four more decades to get that massive inheritance check.”
“Dad!” Her tone made her sound like an exasperated teenager.
Sandy took a deep breath. “Well, sweetie, now you’re here. You can see your father’s fine.” She smiled at Kennedy and Nick. “This is our daughter, Blessing. And you remember our youth pastor, right?”
Blessing gave a little smirk and crossed her arms. “Yeah, I remember you.”
Nick replied with something of a half-smile of his own and didn’t say anything.
“And this,” Sandy went on, “is the Sterns’ daughter. You remember Roger and Juliette Stern from the church back in the city?”
“No.” Blessing shrugged at Kennedy. “But I remember hearing all about you on the news.”
“Well now,” Sandy inserted before her daughter could say anything else, “where’s Tyson today?”
“With his other grandma.” Blessing glanced again at the clock above Carl’s head.
Sandy frowned. “I’m sorry I couldn’t watch him.”
“Of course you can’t. You’re here with Daddy, right where you’re supposed to be.”
“And she won’t leave me alone,” Carl complained. “Keeps threatening to beat up the nurses who come in here to take care of me.” He winked.
Kennedy glanced at Nick, who looked about as out of place as she felt.
“You gonna be home by Christmas?” Blessing asked.
Carl adjusted his bed so he was sitting up a little more. “You kidding me? I’m not settling for hospital food when I can have your mother’s cooking.”
Sandy smiled and patted his hand. “We’re hoping so, at least. Doctor says they may have to do surgery.”
“Pshaw.” Carl waved his left hand in the air. “They’re just trying to get more insurance money out of us. That’s the way these bureaucracies work. Money, money, money.” He fixed his eyes on his daughter. “So the answer to your question, sweetie, is yes, I’ll be home for Christmas. You’re coming over for dinner, right? You and Tyson and ... oh, why do I keep forgetting his name? That guy ... one with all the hieroglyphs tatted on his arms ...”
Blessing did not look amused. “It’s calligraphy.”
Carl frowned. “Really? I could have sworn I saw something just like it in the National Geographic special on mummies. Oh, well. Is old what’s-his-name coming with you for Christmas?”
“Damion, Dad. His name’s Damion.”
Carl kept a good-natured tone in spite of the way his daughter glared at him. “That’s the one. Keep wanting to call him Dalmatian for some reason. Here, boy. Here Dalmatian.”
Sandy put her hand on Blessing’s shoulder. “What your father means is we’d love to have you over for Christmas dinner, of course. All three of you.” She shot Carl a look laced with warning.
“That’s right.” He nodded. “All three of you.”
“Good.” Sandy frowned at the clock and turned to Blessing. “Now you should get yourself back to work so you don’t get in trouble with your supervisor, and I’ll call you to let you know if I can watch Tyson on Friday.”
“All right.” Blessing gave her dad a quick peck on the cheek before heading out.
Kennedy watched the way Nick’s whole body relaxed when she left. Sandy let out a loud sigh. “Well, Kennedy, did you sleep all right last night?”
Kennedy felt guilty when she admitted that she had. “What about you?” she added. “Did either of you get to sleep?”
Sandy smiled. “Oh, Carl was knocked out like a baby. Whatever they pumped through that IV must’ve been some miracle maker. I haven’t seen him sleep that soundly in ten years or more.”
Carl snorted. “I told you we should have gone to Hawaii last summer, didn’t I? Didn’t I say we were due for a vacation?”
Sandy smiled but didn’t respond.
“So we can’t afford three thousand dollars for a week in Hawaii, so we’ll spend our five thousand dollar deductible instead for a staycation at Providence. Food’s not as good, but boy, do you sleep like a rock.”
“Well, one of us does.” The corners of Sandy’s eyes wrinkled up when she spoke. “I was lucky to get that half hour snooze between the x-rays and the doctor consult. They wanted him to have surgery last night,” she explained to Kennedy and Nick. “Make sure everything looked all right. But he said ...”
Carl waved his good hand in the air. “I said of course it wouldn’t look all right if they went in there with a scalpel and started moving things around that have no business moving.”
Sandy shrugged her shoulders. “So the doctor decided we could wait a few days and see.”
“I still don’t know what all the fuss is about,” Carl insisted. “I feel fine as long as they keep that IV bag filled. I’m not dead. My ticker’s as healthy as a teenager’s — doctor said so himself. But the longer they keep me here, the more they can rack up the medical bills. Probably give all themselves a nice Christmas bonus, too.” He reached for his wife’s hand. “Remind me, hon, to wait until summer or spring next time I jump in front of a bullet, will ya?”
Sandy cast a furtive glance at Kennedy, who tried to maintain a neutral expression. “Well, sweetie.” Sandy’s voice sounded far too chipper for the moment. “Have you called your parents or your mom’s sister in Maryland?”
Kennedy was a little ashamed to admit she had slept all the way until Nick came knocking at the door, especially after hearing how Sandy had passed her night by Carl’s side.
Sandy frowned at the clock. “I guess if Nick was willing to drive, you could make it to the airport in time to catch that flight.”
“Absolutely out of the question,” someone interrupted from the doorway. Kennedy knew she disliked the voice even before she turned to see who was there behind her.
Detective Drisklay.
He frowned. “You, young lady, have a very bad habit of leaving your phone off when people need to get in touch with you.” He had his notebook in one hand, his Styrofoam cup of black coffee in the other. “But since you’re all here, we may as well get comfortable.” He swept past Nick and sat down on a swivel stool. “All right. Who’s gonna start and tell me what happened?”
- Writer
