Images of how she might have gotten hurt flashed behind his eyes—a car wreck, she tripped over a loose cobblestone and face planted, she cut off a finger with sewing scissors, hit by a revolving door, or a dog attack. The possibilities were endless.
Bébhinn: What happened?!
Blair: Start talking.
Gray: The hell?
Mags: I accidentally tripped on my way home last night and fell down a set of outdoor basement stairs. My ribs – Ouch! At least my money makers (my hands) escaped a tragic end.
Gray: Oh my God, Mags! No way!
Daniel: Tell me you went to the hospital.
Bébhinn: I can’t believe that happened. I’m sick. Were you alone? Where are you? I’m coming now.
Blair: Not taking no for an answer. Where are you?
Ciar: Answer now, or I’m calling your parents and your Uncle Colly.
Mags: Fuck off, Ciar. I’ve had your back more than once, and you bloody well better have mine! I was alone, yes, but I called a friend, and he came and carried me up the stairs and made me go to the hospital. Drugs for pain and bruising. I took a long, hot bath last night at his house, took all the meds, and feel much better today. I’m going to work soon. I promise to see everyone tonight. Stop worrying. My friend threatened to out me if I didn’t fess up to my clumsiness.
Blair: Nice story. Where are you?
Gray: Were you in the bath alone, or did your friend, that we haven’t met yet, garner a spot?
Bébhinn: Dagr likes to get me in the bath too. Did the bath soothe some bits but make other bits tender?
Ciar: Dagr. Control your wife. No one wants to hear your half-assed version of romance.
Jonathan was so tense by that point that he was still sitting stiffly in the passenger seat of Daniel’s car. They were both reading texts and answering emails before they got on the road. Thank God, he wasn’t required to navigate a vehicle after reading that shit.
Blair: All joking aside. Where are you?
Mags: I’m staying with my friend until my workspace above the gallery is finished and livable.
Bébhinn: Address.
Gray: Address.
Blair: Address. Now.
Mags: Fine, but you three are being ridiculous. I’ll send you a pin.
Jonathan watched the chat like a jungle cat stalking prey. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. And then…
Bébhinn: Damn, girl. Better put my Sunday best on before I enter that zip code.
Gray:
Blair: My, my, my. See you in thirty. Don’t even think of not being there.
Dagr: Hey, just seeing this. Don’t even think of coming tonight if being pampered in bed by your friend helps your recovery.
Jonathan would strangle his new cousin the next time he saw the insinuating asshole. Did they all know who the mystery friend was? Daniel didn’t, or he would have said.
Mags didn’t send her address to the group. Why? “Message Blair and see where Mags is staying,” Jonathan demanded of Daniel.
Daniel gave him a sharp look before putting the car in reverse and backing out of the parking spot. “Mags sounds fine. If you’re so concerned, call her and find out whatever it is you want to know. Don’t involve me.”
