“There’s someone I want you both to meet,” Dr.Thomas says.“A new board member.Is now a good time?”
“Of course,” Regan says brightly.
He gives me a final look, a silent reminder of everything I’ve been warned about.
“Dr.Harrison.”
I nod.“Dr.Thomas.”
He walks off without another word, and we follow.I’m not looking forward to impressing another person.Another person, no less, who will be watching every move I make.But maybe this is a good distraction, a chance to redirect focus back to work, where it belongs.
Chapter 23
Regan
Ikickawaythemountain of towels and sheets at my feet, all in a crumpled heap that’s growing with every shelf I clear.I’m wiping down the top one now, when my phone buzzes.
I drop the cloth and grab it, glancing at the screen.
I swipe to answer, tucking the phone between my shoulder and ear as I reach for the cleaning spray.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, honey.I’m checking if everything’s okay.I haven’t heard from you.”
“Sorry, I’m fine.I promise.Just been busy at work, and when I get home, I’m exhau—” The phone slips, but I catch it.“You there?”
“What happened?”
“I almost lost the phone.”
“What are you doing?”
I glance down at the linen disaster I’ve created, half-laughing.“Cleaning out the linen cupboard.It was getting out of control.”
“On your day off?”she asks, a touch of concern laced through her words.
I smile as I crouch to separate mismatched pillowcases.“It won’t take long.I’ve got a few days off anyway.”
“When do you go back to work?”
“I’m on nights this weekend.”I pause, dreading the long hours, quiet hallways, fewer distractions, and way too much time alone with my thoughts.“Figured I’d get this out of the way while I still have the energy.”
She makes that soft hum that mothers always do when they’re not convinced.“Just don’t spend all your time off scrubbing floors and folding towels.You need to rest too, sweetheart.”
“I know.”I toss an old beach towel into the donation pile.“After I finish here, I’ll probably walk into town and explore.”
“Now you’re just showing off.”
I laugh.“I swear I’ll stop being productive, eventually.”
“You always say that.And then I call you and find out you’ve reorganized the pantry and alphabetized the spices.”
“They are out of order.It’s chaos.”
She chuckles.“You’re your father’s daughter, you know that?”
I press the phone tighter against my ear, smiling.“Yeah.I know.”
