“Well, you scared the shit out of us.” Then, “Hey, all this…” He gestured to include the cannula, the IV pole, the blinking, bleeping monitors, “… is nerve-wracking to us. But these ICU people do this every day. So what intimidates the hell out of us is routine for them. Do you trust your cardiologist?”
“Seems okay. He might be old enough to shave.”
Mitch smiled. “Better that than some old fart.” Mitch clamped him on the shoulder. “If you have to undergo some corrective procedures, this scare will have been worth it. You’ll feel a lot better. The episode this morning will have been a blessing.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in blessings anymore.”
“For you, I’m hedging my bets.”
Hank smiled before turning serious again. “Listen, son, Mary puts up a strong front, especially around you. But she’s a lot more fragile than she lets on. Losing Angela…” Tears filled the older man’s eyes, and Mitch took pity on him.
“You don’t have to say anything more, Hank. If something happens to you, be it tomorrow or twenty years from now, I’ll be there for Mary. You don’t have to ask me.”
He paused to consider how he was going to say what he felt needed to be said. “Also, just so you know, I’m never going to give over guardianship of Andrew. As recently as this week, Mary led me to believe she’d been thinking along those lines. It’s not gonna happen. For as long as I’m alive, Andrew is one hundred percent mine.”
“She gets crosswise and may throw out hints to that effect, but she would never go through with it. She knows, just as I do, that Angela would want him with you.”
“I’m certain of that, too.” Mitch held out his fist, and Hank bumped it with his. “Hang in there. Mary will keep me updated, and I’ll be checking in. See you soon.”
As he was stepping out of the elevator on the ground floor, he met Mary about to board. They moved aside and gave up the elevator to others who were waiting. Mary looked weepy. “I hated saying goodbye.”
“I’ll try to keep Andrew so busy he won’t miss you too much.” He looked beyond her to where Andrew and Dylan were methodically picking up the cars he’d been playing with and replacing them in the bucket. Andrew held one up for Dylan’s inspection; she smiled approvingly and pointed to one of the model’s features and asked him a question.
“Mrs. Gibbons told me she was pretty.”
He shifted his gaze back to Mary and dropped his smile when he realized how sappy it must look. “Pardon?”
“Is it serious?”
He glanced at Dylan, then came back to Mary. “What? Her and me? No. Hell, no. We really just met a few days ago.”
Mary gave him that look that a woman gives a man whenshe knows he’s being less than honest. He said, “You need to get back to Hank.”
She nodded. “Give me a hug.” As they hugged, she said, “We love you, Mitch.”
“I love you, too.”
“We worry about you.”
“I worry about me, too,” he said, then cracked a smile.
She sighed and flapped her hand at him. The elevator door opened, and she stepped inside. Then, as though suddenly remembering, she said, “Andrew said something about a boo-boo?”
“My neck.” He touched the red mark left by the cut from the broken gin bottle. “You saw it on Sunday. It’s almost gone now.”
As the elevator door slid closed, she gave him another one of those looks.
Chapter 31
Roland was having a bad day.
Mitch Haskell’s antics continued to gnaw at him. First his encounter with El Paso last night, and now the overnight disappearing act he’d pulled with Dylan.
On top of that worry, half an hour ago, Oz had called him with the alarming news that the three-truck convoy carrying the Caballeros’ stolen cargo had gone incommunicado. No one had been able to reach either the drivers or those guarding the payload.
“Somewhere in East Texas they stopped checking in on schedule, and they’re not replying to calls or texts. If you hear anything, let me know immediately.”
Oz had been just that brief and then had hung up before Roland could say I told you so.
