“Hey.” I pulled her into a sympathetic hug. “How are you doing?”
“Oh, you know,” Chrissy said, shrugging expansively. “It was just a wedding. We can rearrange. I’ll be honest, I was a little hysterical about it when I first found out, but the accident has put things into perspective.”
I murmured agreement and offered to buy her the coffee she was about to get. “How’s Vic?”
“He’s fine. They kept him overnight because he had a concussion, but they’re letting him out soon. I’m here to pick him up. How’s Cameron?”
“We’re here to see him now,” I explained, and Hugh came along to join us.
“He says he’s doing well. He’s out of the danger zone at least, so we don’t think he’s going to need any amputations.”
“Oh, thank God for that.” Chrissy hung her head in sympathy. “You worry so much about them as cops anyway, even without weather to deal with, don’t you?”
She looked at me as though I were a fellow cop’s wife, and I stuttered slightly, not knowing what to say.
“Oh, I know all about y’all, silly. You think Vic can keep his yap shut for a minute?”
I smiled uneasily, wondering whether this clearly religious woman would be so accepting of them. “I guess not, if he’s anything like his partner.”
“Exactly,” Chrissy said, smiling.
I looked up at Hugh, and he was grinning too, so I guessed it was all okay.
“I think the three of you are just adorable. Ever since school, you’ve been hanging around together, and now you’re grown up and you’re all so gorgeous—”
“You’re making us blush, Chrissy,” Hugh said, putting his hands on my shoulders for support. “Anyway, we’d better get in and see Cameron. I’ve got some of his favorite candy, so he won’t want to be kept waiting.”
“I hope you get to leave with Vic soon,” I said.
“Me too. Hey, we should all go out sometime, maybe bowling? Unless you have to get back to California soon, Muriel?” She looked at me quizzically.
“I... er, maybe. It’s complicated,” I said, and she nodded with understanding.
“Well, we’ll see then. Keep us updated on Cameron.”
After waving, we went up to the desk to inquire about Cameron.
He’d been moved to a different room because his prognosis was much better and he didn’t need as much support. We walked along the corridor, and I realized I had butterflies in my stomach from the prospect of seeing him. I squeezed Hugh’s hand, and opened the door to Cameron’s room.
“Well, if it isn’t my two favorite people.” Cameron grinned from ear to ear. “And... are they speaking to each other?”
“We definitely are,” Hugh said, putting some hot tamales on Cameron’s bedside table while I walked over to plant a kiss on the patient’s lips.
“Thank God for that. I thought I was going to have to bonk your heads together.”
“How are you doing?” I asked.
His expression darkened slightly. “I’ve been doing well. The sensation in my legs was increasing consistently, but it seems to have stalled. And I’ve got no movement yet except my big toe. Look.”
He pulled the blanket aside and wiggled his toe for us. I didn’t think I’d find anything as simple as a moving digit exciting. But my heart swelled in my chest at the sight of the movement—it meant that he was in with a good chance of getting better.
“That’s amazing. Don’t worry about it stalling,” I assured him. “You were never going to get better in twenty-four hours.”
“I kind of hoped I would.” Cameron shrugged. “I’m so bored in here.”
“We’ll visit as much as we can,” Hugh said, and I agreed.
“So, you aren’t going back to LA yet?” Cameron asked, with hope gleaming in his eyes.
“Yes, what have you decided to do?” Hugh asked. “Did your agent manage to rearrange your meeting?”
Truth be told, I had three voicemail messages from Alexa I hadn’t checked yet. I took a deep breath, ready to explain the plan my mom had come up with.
“Wait.” Cameron placed his finger on my lips to stop me talking. I giggled against it, and he pulled away grinning. “Before you say anything, my dad and I came up with a plan so you wouldn’t have to do this show, but you would get to do what you really want to do.”
“We aren’t moving to Peru, Cam,” Hugh said, rolling his eyes.
“Not that, that was the morphine talking. No, listen.”
We both sat down in some plastic chairs next to the bed and waited for him to speak.
“So, hear me out. You want to be a fashion designer, right?”
“Yes,” I said, suddenly very curious about this idea of his.
“Well, I’m no expert, but I guess you can do that anywhere. The internet exists, you know.”
Hugh and I laughed at his mock condescension.
“So, I’ve got a bit of money stashed away from a payout I got last time I was in an accident.”