Once it did, her eyebrows dipped into aV.
Uh-oh.
Bracing, Devyn managed a stiff smile. “Hi, sis.”
“So youarehere. I wasn’t dreaming.” The aftereffects of ventilation were still evident in Lauren’s hoarse voice.
“No. I flew out as soon as I got the call about the accident.”
“I’m sorry ... they bothered you.”
“It wasn’t a bother, Lauren. You’re my sister.”
No verbal response, but a faint hitch that sounded like a muffled sob broke the silence as she averted her head.
“Hey.” Devyn reached over and touched the back of her hand. “I wanted to be here for you. Like you’d be there for me, if the situation were reversed and I needed you.” Maybe.
“You wouldn’t need me. You have Mom.”
Devyn drew in a slow breath. “You want the truth? Mom was always more of a manager than a mother. We never had a bond like you and Dad had. I was envious of that.”
After a moment, Lauren turned her head back, sadness mingling with a simmering resentment in the depths of her eyes. “He was the best. But he worked too hard to pay the ... billings. And he died too young.”
Thanks to you—because the stress of all those bills caused his heart attack.
Though unspoken, that message came through loud and clear—and confirmed the suspicions she’d always harbored about at least part of the reason for the rift between them.
“I know. And I’ve always felt guilty about the high cost everyone paid so I could follow my dream.” As well as the fact that this was a conversation they should have had years ago ... if life had been less busy and Lauren had been more receptive when she’d tried to broach the subject.
At her quiet words, Lauren blinked, as if the admission surprised her. Then she swallowed. Bunched the sheet in her fist. “Do I owe you an ... apolo...” Her brow knitted. “A ... sorry ... for yesterday? I think I said bad things to you.”
Her struggle to find the correct words was becoming more apparent the longer they talked.
“Don’t worry about it, Lauren. Post-traumatic amnesia is part of waking up from a coma.”
“What did I say?”
“It’s not important. What matters is that you’re making an excellent recovery. The doctor told me you may be released in a few days.”
“Then you can go back to North York soon.”
“To tell you the truth, I’m in no hurry to leave.” She kept her tone conversational. “Since the spring season is over, I could hang around for a few weeks, if necessary. You may need a bit of help at first. I love Hope Harbor, and it would be nice to spend some time there.”
“You don’t have to stay. I can call the casherole brig ... brigade.”
“The what?”
“Casherole brigade. It’s a group in town that brings food and does ... help.” Her eyelids fluttered.
“It’s not like having family in the house, though.”
“No.” Lauren released the bunched fabric. Smoothed out the wrinkles. “I walked this morning with the nurse. But my legs were ... warbly.”
Walking was good. Wobbly wasn’t.
“All the more reason to have someone close at hand. I imagine it will take a few weeks for you to get your strength back.”
“Yeah.”
