"Are you hungry?"
She glances at the wall behind me, and her eyebrows knit together. "Is that clock right?"
"Plus or minus a few minutes, yeah."
"I’ve been sitting here for that long? Why didn’t you say anything?" She sounds incredulous.
"Because you needed time to collect yourself."
Her cheeks turn pink. "Oh."
She’s adorable when she’s embarrassed, and I have to press my lips together not to make a comment about how stunning she looks.
Not the time or place, horndog.
"Let’s eat and then find a place to crash. We’ll regroup tomorrow."
We go to the hot bar, and I can’t stop staring as Lilly puts the most random shit on her plate. A scoop of mac and cheese, three Brussels sprouts, a pancake that looks like it’s been sitting there for about twelve hours, a few leaves of lettuce, and a grape.Onegrape. I’m about to make a dumb joke when I bite my tongue. If she wants to eat that, who am I to judge? After the day she’s had, she can do what she wants, and I will cheer her on, imaginary pom-poms and all.
We’ve just finished, and I put my fork down when a swarm of nurses in different color scrubs comes from every direction and descends on the food court.
What the ever-loving—?
Lilly sees my expression and barks out a laugh. It’s the first genuine laugh I hear from her today. At least I’ve accomplished that tonight.
"It’s probably shift change." She smirks, plopping the lone grape in her mouth.
I playfully smack my forehead at my stupidity when a shadow falls over our table.
I turn and face a wall of blue. My gaze travels upward, and I meet the eyes of the older nurse from the emergency department.
Lilly’s gaze flickers from me to the woman and back.
Without a word, the nurse, whose nametag reads Margery, hands me a folded piece of paper.
Uh.
I slowly grab the note, and right before she turns to leave, she scans Lilly up and down. Her whole expression softens.
"You’ve grown into a beautiful woman."
With that, she’s gone.
Lilly’s mouth hangs open, and I’m mirroring her stunned expression, trying to comprehend what just happened. My hand is still suspended mid-air when Lilly plucks the note out of my hand. Her motion is so quick I can’t even react. Instead, my hand hangs there empty.
Slowly, she unfolds the paper. Once. Twice. I see her eyes scan the words, and then her hands fly to her mouth as she drops it. I snatch it up before it can land on her remaining mac and cheese.
Tears are pooling in her eyes, and she whispers, "What did you do?"
Huh?
Finally, I look at the note in my hand.
Madeline Cross
Angelwood Medical Center
Saint Louis