Page 68 of Fighting For You

"Come in, come in." She ushered us through the front door into a foyer with marble floors and a chandelier that caught the light. "Dinner is almost ready. Come in, let me take your jacket."

"Maureen."

Cliff Sullivan appeared from the hallway. He was wearing a light suit with no tie, one hand in his pocket. He looked the same as he did on the floor at CCMC. Composed, measured, unreadable.

"Knox." He extended his hand. Knox shook it. Brief grip, quick release.

"Dad."

Cliff turned to me. "Miss Avery. Thank you for joining us."

"Thank you for having me, Dr. Sullivan."

He nodded once and gestured toward the dining room. "Shall we?"

The dining room table was set for four. White tablecloth, cloth napkins, candles lit, flowers at the center. This mattered to her.

Knox pulled out my chair and sat beside me. Cliff took the head of the table. Maureen sat across from me, still smiling like having us here was the best thing that had happened to her in months. The food came out a moment later.

"So, Nora." Maureen passed me the bread basket. "Tell me about yourself. How long have you been in the ER?"

"Almost six months. I was on the med-surg floor before that, but the ER is where I always wanted to be. When the opening came up, I took it."

"Good for you. And you enjoy it?"

"I love it. It's hard, but it's where I want to be."

Maureen smiled. "Knox was the same way about the fire department. Couldn't be talked out of it." She glanced at Cliff, who was cutting his steak and said nothing.

"How did you two meet?" Maureen asked.

I looked at Knox. He looked at me.

"A house fire," I said. "Knox pulled me out."

"How romantic." Maureen pressed her hand to her chest.

"Do you have family here in Las Vegas?" Cliff asked. It was the first question he'd directed at me all evening.

"My younger brother, Ian. He's seventeen."

"And your parents?"

The table went quiet. Knox's hand found my knee under the tablecloth.

"They passed away," I said. "My father when I was young. My mother a few years after that."

Maureen's face softened. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

I took a breath. "My brother Ian is all I have. He's a good kid."

Cliff set down his knife and reached for his wine. He didn't say anything. Maureen filled the silence by asking me about Ian, about what he liked, whether he played any sports. I told her what I could. I left out the parts that would make me sound like I was losing him.

Somewhere between the main course and dessert, Maureen started telling me about Knox as a boy.

"He never sat still," she said. "His teachers called me constantly. Couldn't focus, wouldn't do his homework, picked fights." She looked at Knox with a softness that made her whole face change. "But he was sweet. He'd pick flowers from the backyard and bring them to me."

"Mom."