Right now, I don’t want to be what everyone expects. I want to demand the doctors find a cure for my mom, and I want Lily to open up to me, to confide in me. Selfishly, I’m tired of being patient. There’s this nagging deep in my chest to know her more, to be with her. Truly be with her. But I’m not sure she’ll ever feel ready for someone like me.
I glare down the hall toward the double doors I can’t go through, irritated.
Footsteps sound down the hall once again, and I glance up to see Lily in pink scrubs walking toward me, two cups in her hand. I do a double take.
Pink is not a color I associate with her, but hell, it brings out the brightness in her eyes even more. Where is her dress? That tantalizing outfit that nearly made me forget what day it was when I walked in the door this morning.
I narrow my eyes, chest vibrating with a near snarl at the thought she wanted out of the dress.
When she reaches me, she holds out one of the cups.
“Nice outfit.”
She smirks at me. “I had to bribe a nurse for dry scrubs. Told her I’d give her free breakfast at the diner for a week.”
She cringes as if now realizing how much that’s going to cost her.
“Any update?” she asks, not quite meeting my eyes.
“Not yet.”
“You going to take your coffee?”
“Not yet.”
She scoffs, and I grin at her. She attempts to withdraw the cup, but I snatch it, lifting it to my lips and staring at her over the rim.
It’s not the time to talk about that kiss. To ask her where she sees this going. Does she picture it going anywhere? Not when my mother is in the hospital, but at the same time, I know my mother would slap me upside the head if I was waiting because she was here.
Lily doesn’t say anything else. Instead, she returns to her seat and I, once again, plop down next to her. We sit in silence, sipping our awful coffee, and wait for an update from the doctor.
I’ll give it time.
Chapter 21
Lily
Fighting a yawn is unbearable. There’s that telltale tickle in the back of my throat, my jaw aching to stretch. I can feel it creeping up, but clamp my lips shut, desperate to stifle it. Except it betrays me while Old Man John goes on about his recent visit with his daughter.
I’m happy for him, truly I am, but this past week since Ms. Sullivan has returned home has been exhausting. I’m not sleeping well, driven to check on her multiple times a night, terrified she’ll have more complications.
Noah and I were in the hospital for several more hours before we were told the fluid was removed and she’d be set to go home the next morning. It’s been just over a week, and the toll this last hospital visit has taken on her body is devastating. I’m worried. Noah’s worried. Even Max is acting anxious when he comes around.
My eyes water, and I play it off by blinking rapidly, but Old Man John eyes me. “She doing all right?”
He doesn’t have to say Ms. Sullivan, almost every patron that’s come into the diner recently has asked about her, about Noah. The entire town loves the Sullivans, and I can understand why.
The harder I fight the yawn, the more awkward my face gets, and it finally slips out in a stifled, garbled mess that leaves me utterly mortified. My yawns have the worst timing.
Old Man John chuckles, inching his coffee cup toward me. “You may need this more than me.”
I lean, both hands spread against the coffee-stained counter. “She’s doing all right.”
“Noah must be beside himself. I’ll have to make sure I stop by if she’s up for a visit.”
I smile. “I think she’d like that.”
Turning, I busy myself with the coffeepots, making more, and refilling a few mugs on the counter. I glance at the clock. Three more hours left.
