By the time we reached the dining room, several tables were already occupied. Christmas music drifted softly through the room, and decorations hung from the windows. A staff member greeted Dorothy and Richard by name before leading us toward a table near the windows.
"Perfect," Dorothy said as we sat down. "Now we can get some lunch into both of you."
Across from me, Thane closed his eyes briefly. I was beginning to suspect his warnings about his mother had not been exaggerated.
Dorothy wanted to know about my student teaching placement. Richard asked whether I preferred language arts or math. When I admitted that math and I maintained a respectful distance from one another, Richard nodded solemnly and informed me that I had chosen wisely.
That might have been my favorite part of the afternoon.
A nurse stopped by to refill Richard's coffee and reminded Thane that he still owed her photos from a charity event three months ago. A resident named Walter accused him of cheating at cards the last time he visited. Dorothy informed everyone within earshot that Walter was still bitter because he'd lost.
The entire room erupted into laughter.
I found myself laughing too. There was something infectious about the atmosphere. People knew one another here. They remembered birthdays and grandchildren and favorite desserts. They argued about crossword puzzles, card games, and whether the Christmas tree in the lobby had enough ornaments.
I simply sat there and enjoyed myself.
For a while, it was easy to forget everything waiting outside the facility.
Then a woman approached our table. I recognized her immediately as one of the staff members we'd passed on the way in.
She stopped beside Dorothy's chair. "I'm sorry to interrupt." The smile on her face looked practiced. Professional. Not entirely convincing.
Thane might have noticed it too because he asked, "What is it?"
The woman hesitated. "We've received several calls from reporters."
The words landed like a stone in the middle of the table. Nobody spoke for a second.
"They've figured out you're here."
A muscle jumped in Thane's jaw.
Across from him, Dorothy's smile faded.
Richard set down his coffee.
The warmth that had filled lunch only moments earlier seemed to drain away.
Beside me, Thane exhaled slowly. The expression on his face wasn't anger. If anything, he looked tired.
The staff member shifted her weight. "We can arrange for you to leave through another exit if necessary."
"Has anybody bothered the residents?" Thane asked.
The woman shook her head. "Not yet."
Thane nodded. The tension in his shoulders didn't ease.
And suddenly it became very clear that lunch was over.
SEVENTEEN
THANE
Winning should have felt better than this.
The scoreboard said we'd beaten Vancouver three to two. The standings would count it the same as every other victory we'd earned this season. By tomorrow morning, sports analysts would talk about two points in the standings, another step toward the playoffs, and the resilience of a team that kept finding ways to win.
