My mouth dropped open. I’d known Mira Hoskins since I was a teenager, when I’d come to work at the hospital as an orderly, trying to find out if medicine really was what I’d wanted to do for the rest of my life. She and her sister Maybelle had taken me under their collective wing, giving me opportunities that I might not have had otherwise. We were close, but notthisclose.
“So tell me. How did it go? How did she react? I don’t mean to pry, of course, but I want to know what to expect when I see her. I don’t want to put my foot in my mouth and say something I shouldn’t.”
“It went . . . uh, it was . . .” I finally took a deep breath. “Mira, I’m sorry, what do you think happened last night? What exactly are you talking about here?”
Her forehead puckered. “You spoke with your grandparents last night. You told them about Ted being back in town, about him being sick. Right?” She cocked her head. “What areyoutalking about?”
“Oh.” I nodded rapidly. “That. The exact same thing. Of course. What else would I be talking about?” I swallowed back a laugh that might have come across as borderline hysterical and made a mental note to recount this conversation to Emma later. She’d howl.
“Is Anna coming in today? I was worried about what to say when I see her, if she is.”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure. She and Pop said they might. But they’re . . . realistic. They don’t expect any tearful family reunion. Ted hasn’t exactly given either of them cause to hope in the past, oh, fifty years or so.”
“True. It’s so sad, though.” She wagged her head and then offered me a faint smile. “The one good thing he gave them was you, Deacon. I know Anna would say that anything Ted put them through has been worth it to have you in their lives. Ted might not realize it—he might not believe it—but you redeemed him. You have taken every wrong that he ever visited on his family and turned it around.” She sniffled. “I know I don’t say it enough, but you should be proud, Deacon. I know I’m proud of you, and so is everyone else in this hospital. In this town, even.”
I ducked my head. “Even after I up and ran out on you to work in Slovenia for a year?”
“Even so. You’ve more than made up for sowing that little wild oat.” She shook her finger my way. “Just don’t do it again.”
“I promise, I’m not going anywhere.” I thought of how often I’d said that to Emma last night . . . with my voice, my lips, my tongue, my hands, my . . .
“All right, then, I guess I better get this day started. I’ll see you at rounds, Deacon.”
“I’ll be there.” As Mira left my office, I sat down again, chuckling. Oh, yeah, Emma was going tolovethis story.
* * *
“Deacon, did you know Noah Spencer’s here?” Stephanie, one of our nurses, approached me as I stood at the nurses’ station, going over patient notes with Jonah, the nurse practitioner who had replaced Jenny.
“What?” I scowled. “No. Why? Where?”
“He’s over by the new music therapy room with Mr. Zamora from the board. I saw them as I was finishing up with Mrs. Wilkie’s meds just now.”
“Huh.” I had a lot of mixed and complicated feelings about Noah, I realized. On the one hand, I had always liked and respected him as Angela’s husband. When I remembered meeting the two of them for the first time in my office at the Calumbra Center back in Tampa, I hurt a little—for him. That day, we’d had so much optimism for Angela’s outcome. I’d all but promised them that within a year or two, the leukemia diagnosis would be a distant memory, and they’d be planning the rest of their life together.
Instead, though, Noah was here to see the rooms that he’d made possible, the ones that were shortly to be dedicated to the memory of his late wife. When I thought about him that way, I couldn’t help but have compassion for the guy.
On the other hand, though, Noah was also the dude who’d dated Emma. The one who’d been there to pick up the pieces after I’d basically abandoned her. He’d wanted a life with her, and the fact that he wasn’t going to get it didn’t mean I had warm and fuzzy feelings toward him.
And then, of course, there was the reality of his friendship with Emma, which I had a hunch wasn’t going to go away any time soon. If Emma and I were going to make our relationship work—and God, I wanted that—then I’d probably have to get used to having Noah in our lives, for better or for worse. Which meant that I should probably be the bigger man and make the effort to reach out right now, while he was here on my oncology floor.
As it turned out, Noah wasn’t difficult to find. He was standing outside the new transplant suite, reading something on his phone as I approached.
Clearing my throat to get his attention, I extended one hand. “Spencer. Good to see you.”
He glanced up at me, a smile spreading over his face when he saw me. “Deacon. I was going to come to find you. Thanks for saving me the trouble.”
That sounded ominous.I wondered if he was going to talk to me about Emma, maybe try to get my help in getting her back. Yeah, hell would freeze over first.
“What do you think of the suite and the music therapy room?” I shifted the subject, hoping we could keep things on a professional level.
“Oh, man. They’re both incredible. Ang would be so excited.” He took a deep breath and exhaled long. “It’s hard being here again, you know? I haven’t been back on the floor since . . . that morning. The morning we lost her.” He scrubbed his face with one massive hand, and my heart hurt for him. “There’s part of me that wants to go back into her room, half expecting to see her there still. Crazy, isn’t it?”
“No. The mind is a funny thing. That’s the last place you saw her, spoke to her, touched her. It’s natural that your subconscious would still have some sense that she’s there.” I paused. “I know it doesn’t help, but I miss her, too. Angela touched a lot of lives, Noah. It sounds trite and kind of corny, but she’s living on in that way.”
“Yeah, I know that’s true. But you’re right. It’s the kind of mystical stuff that Emma likes to talk about. Sounds great, but when I’m alone in that big house, realizing that other people remember my wife fondly doesn’t mean shit, you know? It doesn’t help with the loneliness, that’s for sure.” He attempted a smile.
“I’m sorry, Noah. I’ve said it before, but . . . I’m so damn sorry. If I could have done anything else, if I could have changed what happened . . .”
