“I was there. Fat lot of good I did you. That witch nurse Edna Shanoy had me arrested when she found me in bed with you.”
“What?” Joy asked, spilling some ice water on her chest.
“Why do you think I wasn’t there this morning?” he murmured. “Thanks to Edna, I was sharing a luxury suite in a communal holding cell with nine of Chicago’s finest citizens. Edna made me out to be a prime pervert for lying in bed with you after visiting hours. Of course, her interpretation might have had something to do with the fact that I fell asleep with my hand on your breast, but—”
“Oh, no,” Joy muttered, her voice a little stronger. She actually remembered that—his hand on her breast. How could she have forgotten it? Strange, the effects anesthesia had on the mind. She set the glass of water down on the bedside table and reached for a box of tissues. She wiped her cheeks dry. “Why didn’t they wake me up and ask me if I wanted you there?”
“I didn’t want them to wake you. Besides, Edna ended up not pressing charges. The other nurse she worked with finally talked her out of it, according to the officer. Of course, Edna wasn’t entirely convinced I wasn’t the Crazed Groper of Northwestern Hospital until she’d forced me to sit in that holding cell for the night and most of the day. Jimmy K., Mad Louis and that lot were pretty nice guys, but they didn’t really smell too great. Neither did I, by the time they finally let me go this afternoon, come to think of it.”
She’d caught a whiff of him earlier when he’d lain by her side and hugged her. “You smell wonderful.”
“After I found out you had already been discharged from the hospital, I checked into a hotel and showered before I came over. Didn’t want to make you sicker with my smell. Here,” he said, giving her the throat spray. Joy used it, thankful for the numbing sensation. She set down the bottle next to the glass of water.
“Better?” he asked, his voice like a rough caress in the darkness.
“Yes, thank you.” She blinked, the reality of his presence finally fully penetrating her consciousness. “How did you get in my apartment?”
“Picked the locks,” he said matter-of-factly. “I had one of the most notorious cat burglars in Europe teach me for Cat. He’s completely reformed now,” he added, as if he thought Joy was worried about his morals.
“Everett, there’s something I want to tell you,” she said.
He came down next to her on the bed, lying on his hip, his front pressed against her side. He put his arm around her waist and caressed the exposed skin between her shorts and tank top. She shivered, not knowing if the reaction was from anxiety or his touch.
“Then tell me. I’m ready to hear whatever it is. I’m not going anywhere,” he said quietly.
Her throat swelled, making her pause for a moment before she continued. She took comfort from his stroking hand at her waist.
“Last year, I was diagnosed with PMBL. That’s a type of lymphoma,” she said in a rush. She’d only said these words once before—to Seth. This time it felt even more difficult. “It’s cancer,” she added, not sure how much sense she was making.
“I know,” he said, his hand not faltering as he caressed her.
“Oh, okay. So, well . . . anyway, I went through treatment—chemotherapy and radiation. I was told last winter I was in remission. I’ve been okay until last weekend, when I got sick. And I got the swollen glands and the fever, and . . . and those are possible signs of a reoccurrence of the cancer.”
His hand continued to stroke her, and the words just kept spilling out of her mouth.
“And the doctor in Prairie Lakes said I should have a lymph node resection done. He thought it was just a virus, but he wanted to make sure. So I came up here to see my oncologist, Dr. Chen, and he wanted to make sure, too. I had to do the surgery inpatient, though, instead of an outpatient biopsy.”
“How come?” Everett asked.
“They had to do this kind of procedure where they can resect a lymph node near my lungs. They have to cut my throat and insert this instrument down in between my lungs. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to gross you out,” she said apologetically.
“You’re not grossing me out,” he said evenly. “Go on.”
“Well, it requires general anesthesia, so I had to spend the night.”
“That’s why you weren’t here. I waited out on the street for hours. Seth said you weren’t supposed to go in until Tuesday morning.”
“I sort of—”
“Told him it was an in-and-out procedure so he wouldn’t worry. I know,” Everett finished for her, his matter-of-fact tone easing her embarrassment. He opened his hand along the side of her waist and grasped her gently. She could feel the pulse at his wrist next to her naked skin. Why was his heart beating so fast when he sounded so calm?
“Joy?”
“Yes?”
“Before you go on, I think it’s only fair to tell you that Seth already told me about your cancer diagnosis.” He must have felt her stiffen. “Please don’t be angry with him. He was desperate. He didn’t know how to break through to you.”
“Break through to me about what?”