Even though it hadn’t been that long since she’d hung out with her sister, Mirren, it had been amazing to enjoy each other's company without their mom’s health looming so large over their heads.
There were no more sightings of the crazy artist from Edinburgh, though the family was still taking the threat seriously. The video surveillance outside the museum had shown Jina speaking to a woman with a large, angled hat, but the woman’s face had been obscured, the angle always just slightly off.
“I spoke to MacGregor, Barr, and your father. I told them that we wanted to move in together,” Jonathan said matter-of-factly as the plane began its descent. He did have the humility to grimace before tacking on “I may have taken a bit of license with your wants.”
Mags patted his knee closest to her. “You took a bit of license with your life, babe. Of course, I want us together. What did the guys say?”
Jonathan chuckled and shook his head. “Your uncle and MacGregor were so angry they couldn’t make their jaws unhinge, which I’m thankful for, but your dad wasn’t opposed; he only wanted us to wait to make any big changes until after that crazy woman is found. I completely understand, but we can still start planning in the meantime. I had some ideas,” he threw out, pretending a nonchalance he didn’t own.
“Oh, really? And what exactly are your ideas?” Mags asked, nudging his side.
“Only if you approve,” he started, “and I’m open to suggestions.”
Mags felt excitement bubbling up from her stomach. The fact that Jonathan had put so much thought into their future was intoxicating. “I’m listening.”
“I thought I might ask Daniel if he would find another place to live. Well, Blair, too, but I would rent her a place anywhere in the city, no problem. I thought you might enjoy redecorating one of the townhouses as our home, and the connected townhouse could be your business.
“Women, and men, of course, could have a space to come for fittings and whatever else is necessary for your embroidery.”
Mags stayed silent for several minutes, through the flight attendant’s ‘prepare for landing’ speech and the final trash collection.
And then, heart bursting, she said, “That’s brilliant.”
thirty-nine
HANNAH
“Okay, Hannah,”the nurse announced briskly, “this won’t hurt. Just a small prick on the end of your finger.”
The woman’s bedside manner left little to be desired. Of course, Hannah’s expectations were low, having lived through the nightmare of a waiting room in the shitty medical clinic she’d found online. They accepted uninsured patients as long as they paid with cash up front.
She’d come down with something the evening after she’d spied Mirren’s sister at the pub, which meant she hadn’t felt well enough to pay the girl’s attic workshop a visit while she was out of town. A perfect opportunity ruined.
And the voices hadn’t let up once about her inadequacies since.
Why would we? As if you weren’t disgusting enough, you went and got swollen balls over your neck and surrounding your fat, filthy minge.
Hannah winced at the vulgar image. It was true, though. She thought it was just a cold until her lymph nodes in her neck andgroin area popped up. Still… “It could still be just a cold,” she mumbled.
The nurse, thinking Hannah was speaking to her, said: “One would think, except for the number of swollen lymph nodes combined with a fever, stomach rash, and oral thrush.”
“Yes, but—” Hannah began to downplay the current situation when the nurse interrupted.
“You’ve admitted to unprotected sex. I know you’re frightened, but you need to prepare yourself for the possibility of a positive HIV test.”
Swallowing a moan of sickened dread, the nurse took that moment to prick her finger. The small sting created a well of blood to pool.
“This is a simple, rapid test. I’ll let you know the results within twenty to thirty minutes.” She opened the door with a “Sit tight” thrown over her shoulder.
Hannah sighed and leaned her back against the plastic chair’s back. This was an absolute nightmare. She only had a few loose ends to tie up after she made Mirren’s little sister pay, which would be way worse than if she’d done something to Mirren personally.
She was supposed to work on gathering more funds and finding a sunny beach somewhere to live out the rest of her life.
HIV positive—the insult of it all.
I bet it was that unfortunate time you blew that homeless drug addict while his equally disgusting back-alley buddy took your back hole.
If only you could have seen how pathetic you looked, screaming in pain around the man’s filthy dick.
