“Probably not, but I’ll give it a shot,” Seven replied.
Ten minutes later, the five of us had Hillbilly in a wheelchair despite his blustering protests. We did get some funny looks, decked out in our biker cuts and heavy boots as we made our way down the hospital’s corridor. Psycho and Seven flanked either side of Hillbilly’s wheelchair, while Tarzan pushed. Lila and I brought up the rear like a parade.
“This is ridiculous,” Hillbilly said. “I can walk, for fuck’s sake.”
“Like father, like daughter,” I muttered. "I see where you get your stubbornness from."
Lila wrinkled her nose in my direction and shouldered past me to walk beside Hillbilly.
“It’s hospital policy, Dad,” she said.
He tried to push out of the chair but Tarzan clamped a large hand on his shoulder and held him in place.
“Since when did I start following the rules?” Hillbilly groused. “I’ve always been a rebel, damn it.”
Lila patted his arm.
“Don’t worry. You’re still a badass.”
“I’m already pissed off, Lila. Patronizing me will only make things worse.”
Psycho snickered.
“What’s so funny?” Hillbilly demanded.
“Nothing, Prez,” Psycho replied. “It’s just good to have you back.”
After getting Hillbilly settled in the cage, the rest of us followed Bruiser back to Hillbilly’s house. Keely and Shea were in the kitchen, unloading groceries on the table, stocking up the refrigerator.
Hillbilly gestured to a pile of green leafy vegetables.
“Not a hamburger in sight. I’m going to starve.”
Keely laughed.
“Kenny hates eating his greens, too, and I’ve managed to sneak them into all kinds of things now. He barely notices.”
Hillbilly inspected a carrot with a skeptical sniff.
“I’m a grumpy old man, not a toddler. You’re not hiding spinach in my food. I’ll know. Who do I have to bribe around here for a thick steak—bloody and rare—with greasy fries?”
“Dad,” Lila scolded, swatting his arm. “Are you trying to end up back at the hospital? And what about your meds? I don’t want to hear that you haven’t been taking them.”
“Lila, you’re fussing.”
“With good reason! And don’t you dare compare me to my mother again.”
I stood off to the side, leaning against the door frame of the kitchen as I watched the bustling activity. Despite Hillbilly’s vocal insistence that he was fine, I could still see the fatigue etched in his face. The way his shoulders drooped and his breathing seemed a little labored suggested he hadn’t fully recovered yet.
And Lila…
Lila was in overdrive. She wouldn’t stop moving, wired with nervous energy. The way she chattered endlessly wasn’t like her either.
“Are you warm enough? I don't want you catching cold on top of everything else. I could whip something up if you’re hungry. I’ve left your medications on the kitchen counter, next to the sink with written instructions on when to take them. And then—”
I pushed off the door frame and curved my hand around Lila’s arm.
“He’s okay, Lila,” I whispered.
