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Poppy’s eyes flicker open, strangely bright, startlingly clear. “Where am I?” he barks at the two of them, who have turned their attention from each other and back to the patient, their argument thankfully put on pause, hopefully indefinitely. “You’re in the hospital. You passed out back at the house and gave us a really bad scare. An ambulance brought you here.”

“Ah, hell. You didn’t need to cause such a stir. I’m just old. There’s no cure for that. You should have just put me to bed and let me sleep it off. Not much the doctors can do, so I don’t know why they bothered to bring me here and get me hooked up to all these wires. Got me in this ridiculous hospital nightgown. The least I can get is some pudding for my troubles. Go find a nurse—preferably a good-looking one—and have her bring me some, will you?”

Alex jumps up, happy to oblige, happy to escape Simone’s scrutiny and relieved to have one problem he can solve efficiently and easily.

When Alex encounters several nurses huddled at the station, chatting and laughing, he feels bad interrupting. “I need some help. Lawrence Hartwell needs a pudding,” he requests as politely as possible, even if he swears the nurse still rolls her eyes.

With the lengths Alex goes to prove to people he’s not the entitled asshole who he assumes they assume him to be, it would be much less exhausting to just be an asshole… and possibly more fun. “Thank you. I really appreciate it. You guys are doing a terrific job.” He’s probably laying it on too thick, but the eye-rolling nurse at least breaks a smile.

On his way back to Poppy’s bedside, Simone intercepts him outside the curtain and out of his grandfather’s earshot. “I’ve got to get home to meet Langston’s bus. Why don’t you come with me now and leave your car here? We can come back a little later.”

“Nah, you go ahead. I’m gonna stay with Poppy for a while. I’ll take an Uber. What happened before he fell? I want to be able to talk through it with the doctors when they come around.”

“I don’t know, it was all so fast. I was over to check on him and then decided to tackle cleaning out the junk room…”

“Why?”

“Why? I’ve told you, I want to hire a nurse. If the need isn’t obvious after today…” Simone makes a point of looking around at the officious medical staff and machinery. “I want to have a private place for her to have a break.”

“We’ve talked about this. He’s never going to go for it.” Not to mention the exorbitant price. Fifteen thousand a month for someone to babysit his grandfather? It was absurd, especially since Simone was right there. But he doesn’t have a leg to stand on at the moment, so his protests are half-hearted.

“He’s not going to have a choice, Alex. We’re not going to have a choice. Anyway, I was cleaning out the room and suddenly Poppy was yelling at me. Like, ballistic. Accused me of snooping through his things. He didn’t know who I was. Like I said, he called me Reba. Who was, let me guess, your maid at one point?”

Alex hates that he has to nod.

“Your Black maid?”

Alex is forced to nod again.

“But, Simone, come on, it’s not like that.”

“Are you kidding me, Alex? Of course it’s like that.” Simone’s stage whisper can really no longer qualify as a whisper, and she gestures with aggressive air quotes around “like that.”

“And confusing me with your maid is one thing, but he also called me a bitch! I get he was out of it, but that was totally out of line.”

“What? He wouldn’t.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “You don’t believe me?”

“That isn’t what I said.” But Alex doesn’t know what to believe. With everything happening with Poppy, he almost forgot about the reason he found himself drinking alone at lunch in the first place, and it suddenly comes rushing back to him. A welcome chance to derail Simone’s focus.

“Why were you in Chicago, Simone?”

“Chicago? I’ve been at Poppy’s all morning.” Their wires are crossing. Or he’s not being clear. He shakes his head like a wet dog, and the pain of his brain bouncing off the sides of his skull sobers him up a bit more. “Last week. When you went to Chicago.”

“You know why. I went for a panel.” There’s a trace of defensiveness there. For sure. It’s chum in the water.

“And who invited you to this panel?”

“Alex. You’re not making any sense. This is what happens when you get wasted in the middle of the day. I’m not even sure why we’re talking about this.”

“Did the school ask you… or Kwame?” This gets her. He sees panic flicker across her face. And just like that, the ball is back in his court.

“Kwame was on the panel too,” she says softly.

Poppy chooses this moment to bellow out to them or anyone who might be listening. “I need some help with this pudding.”

“I have to wonder why you didn’t think to mention that.”