To his surprise, Hank said, “I was watching that ball game.” He opened his eyes and smiled up at Mitch. “But it’s a replay of last night’s game, and the Astros lost by five, so it’s just as well.”
Mitch pretended to be stunned and affronted. “All the drama you caused, I thought you’d be a lot sicker.”
“He is sicker,” Mary said.
“I didn’t even stop for breakfast,” Mitch said. “Busted my ass to get here.”
His performance got a smile out of Hank, who said, “You put Mrs. Gibbons in a right tizzy.”
Mitch looked at Mary, who said, “She called, said you took Andrew without so much as a how-dee-do.”
“I didn’t owe her a how-dee-do. I owed her my thanks, which I extended more than once. But I wanted to get Andrew out of there and make sure he was okay. He had to have been confused, possibly even frightened, by all that was going on and the suddenness of the two of you not being around.”
Mary sighed. “I tried not to show how frantic I was. But I’m sure he picked up on it. I did my best, Mitch.”
“I’m confident of that. But Andrew needs me now.”
“Betty Gibbons is very capable.”
“I’m sure she’s capable of getting on and off the commode without assistance, but I doubt she’s capable of chasing an energetic little boy around that greenhouse she lives in.”
Hank said, “Please, don’t you two start. And, Mary, you know he’s right about Betty’s house. If only her disposition was that warm,” he added under his breath.
Mitch said, “Forgive my remark about the commode. Last thing y’all need is me spouting off. I wasn’t questioning your judgment, Mary. You did what you had to do in an emergencysituation, and it was kind of your neighbor to take on responsibility for Andrew.”
Mary acknowledged his apology with a nod. “She told me you had someone with you.”
He hadn’t seen that coming, and it threw off his timing. “Uh, yeah. Her name is Dylan Reede. She’s a psychologist.” Usually so glib, he could think of nothing to say unless they wanted to hear about Dylan’s last orgasm in the shower. “I… I didn’t know what all Andrew had witnessed or how traumatizing it might have been, so I thought Dr. Reede could be helpful.”
“She’s a child psychologist?” Mary asked.
“Uh, no. Just regular. But real smart.” He hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “She’s looking after Andrew downstairs in the lobby. When I left them, he was acquainting her with his new Nikes.”
“You’re taking him to Auclair.”
“Yes, Mary, I am.”
“How will you handle having him underfoot?”
“How will you? You can’t while being here with Hank around the clock as I know you want to be.”
“But your work—”
“I’ll figure it out. I’m sure Beth will volunteer to help. I’m taking him,” he said with finality.
Looking resigned, Mary stood up. “I want to tell him goodbye, and I had better do it now before they come to take Hank for the angiogram.”
Mitch shook his finger at Hank. “Cooperate. Do what they tell you. Don’t be a pain in the ass. Honey always attracts more flies. And pretty nurses.” He winked, and his father-in-law winked back. “Anything I can do for you before I go?”
Giving Mitch a meaningful look, he said, “Stay for a minute longer.”
Mary, who had already walked toward the door, turned back and hesitated. Mitch said, “I’ll be right down. Andrew pitched camp there by the aquarium.”
She nodded and said to her husband, “Have the nurse text me if they come for you.” Hank gave her a thumbs-up. She left them.
Mitch sat down in the chair she’d occupied and asked bluntly, “Okay, gloves off. How are you doing?”
“I feel like shit.”
