Anita’s hackles raised at the sheepish way he had his hands stuck in his pockets. “What’s wrong?”
“Umm, sorry, but the thing is, it’s kind of snowing.”
****
Snowingwas an inadequate term. The blizzard had come on with gale-like ferocity, the wind whipping the fat flakes into loops and whorls. Anita watched the world opacify from her spot on the couch.
“I hope Dad’s okay.” She needed a new cold washcloth, but her limbs were leaden. She might die on that couch, simply leach into the white fabric where she had once perched in a very uncomfortable prom gown. A fitting end for a professional ballroom dancer.
Marina paced the floor. It looked exhausting. “He texted me twenty minutes ago. He will stay in Philadelphia with Dr. Stearns this evening. The roads must be terrible.”
Despite the regularity of its inclement weather, southeastern Pennsylvania did not manage it well. The potholed freeways froze with black ice, drifts piled on the thin shoulders, or freezing rain would solidify old pipes and bring down electrical wires. The thought of driving in a blizzard like this—Anita gulped again.
Marina finally paused in her rapid pacing. “I will find you clothes. You will stay here tonight.”
Heat rushed through her like a whip of adrenaline.Patrick? In the room down the hall?
She was definitely going to be sick again.
“Mom.” Anita struggled to get into a seated position, dislodging her cool washcloth in the process. “We can wait an hour or so. Maybe it will clear up.”
Her mother scoffed. As if she could have expected anything else. “Don’t be silly. It will be a fun sleepover, like old times.”
Chapter Fourteen
Patrick knocked softly at the door at the end of the hallway, with a small, vibrant-striped acrylic tray in one hand. Like mother, like daughter.
“Come in,” he heard Anita grumble. He smiled despite the situation. The daughter of a doctor made a terrible patient.
She was slumped in bed, a washcloth pressed against her forehead. She looked pale and faded, like a plastic toy that had been left out in the sun too long.
His treacherous heart leapt anyway.
Her room had not changed much since high school. She still had the same fluffy white-and-blue printed comforter, the same cheerful display of stuffed animals in a little rope hammock in one corner, a white bookshelf overflowing with awards statuettes and crammed sideways with books.
“Hey you,” Patrick said softly. Anita grumbled and threw her arm over her face. He should make her chicken soup. Or buy chicken soup. He wouldn’t want to poison her further.
Next she put the pillow over her face. “Oh my God, Patrick, I am so sorry. I don’t know what happened. Why didn’t I check the weather before we left?”
“Were you distracted by something? Keystone in a week? Dead birds?” He placed the little tray on the white bedside table. “I brought you some crackers and ginger ale.”
She removed the pillow, looked over at the tray, and immediately replaced her shield. “You should not be so sweet to me.”
“Why would you say that?” He hesitated for only a moment, but it was just too tempting. He perched on the edge of her bed, far enough away to maintain the illusion of friendship. Almost.
She sniffled and moved the pillow halfway down her face so only her red-rimmed eyes were exposed. “I’m gross. I’m a huge mess. A—a disappointment.”
“You never disappoint me,” he said quietly. She was wearing a soft gray T-shirt that sloped across her shoulder and exposed her collarbone. If only he could press his lips there, run his fingers along the smooth surface from the arch of her shoulder to the base of her throat.
He should see about turning on the air conditioning in her room. He absolutely, positively could not feel up the woman of his dreams while she was sick.
She bit her lip. “Did my mom get you everything you need?”
“Yup.” Great. A distraction. He could do distractions. “A pair of your dad’s old sweatpants, very fashionable and figure flattering.” He gestured to the time-worn black sweats. “I find the moth holes in precarious locations particularly daring.”
There it was, that smile that increased her angelic features.I could light my whole apartment with that one smile.
She sipped at the ginger ale, her lips wrapping around the straw.
