“Just five minutes,” she mumbles.
I brush her hair back from her face and kiss her forehead before draping my suit coat over her.
“Of course, sweet pea,” I murmur, fully intending to let her sleep here all night while I keep watch if that’s what she needs, but by the time I put on new shirts, she whimpers, twitches, and pops awake.Her labored gasps and terrified eyes vault my heart into my throat and yank me across the room toward her.I drop to my knees beside her and stroke her arm.
“You’re okay, Penelope,” I murmur.
She takes a deep, shuddering breath before relaxing as she exhales.
“I know.I’m fine.Thanks,” she says.
She rubs a hand over her face and gives an almost convincing smile.
I help her to her feet and grab my briefcase before retrieving her purse and bag from her desk and ushering her to the elevator.As we step out into the parking garage, my phone rings with the ringtone I dedicated to my mother.
I slip my phone out of one pocket and my keys out of the other.
“Hey, Ma, wha—”
“Nana fell in the shower.I don’t know how long she was in there before I found her, but there was so much blood.The ambulance is almost at the emergency room.Come quickly, Sebastian.”
“Which hospital?”I grate through my fear-thickened throat.
I respond with a curt, “Be right there,” after she tells me the name.
As soon as I end the call, panic joins the adrenaline pumping through my veins, and my long strides erase the distance between me and my car before I remember Penelope’s small stature.
I stop a few paces away from my parking spot.
“Sorry, pipsqueak.My nana—”
Emotions clog my throat.
“Let me drive,” she suggests.
“Are you sure?My SUV is an extended length, so it’s bigger than most.It can be diff—”
“I can drive it, no problem,” she says.
I recall all the times valets—fully grown men with much longer legs than her—struggled to park my car.I shake my head.
“It’s okay, I can—”
She sighs.
“Do I need to pull out my CDL to ease your worries?Driving yourextended-length SUV,” yes, the impertinent little pipsqueak puts finger quotes around the words, “will be easier than a walk in the park for me.I’ll get you to the hospital in no time.”
“Pull out your what?”I ask.
“My Commercial Driver’s License.I’m qualified to operate just about any vehicle on the road,” she boasts.
“Why do you have a Commercial Driver’s License?”
I don’t know why I’m asking her questions when I should be diving behind the wheel and booking it to the emergency room.It’s probably because I don’t want to process the fear of losing my nana.
“My roommate says I collect certifications like other people collect coins or playing cards.”The sneaky little imp yanks my keys out from the underside of my fist.I let her take them without arguing, since my panic threatens to consume me.“I like learning, and once I start something, I don’t move on until I master it.”She opens the passenger door for me and continues speaking as she waits for me to cram myself inside and fasten my seat belt.“I started with a basic license, then went for my CDL, and continued until I had all the license endorsements the state of New York allows citizens to apply for.”She checks my seat belt before smiling, shutting the door, and rushing around the front of the car.The top of her head bobs just below the hood.
She climbs into the driver’s seat and shuts the door with just the right amount of force.As she systematically adjusts the seat, pedals, steering wheel, and mirrors, she continues her story as though nothing is amiss.
