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Which meant she wouldn’t miss her all-night poker game after all.
She was feeling very lucky. She’d been on a winning streak these past few weeks. If it continued, she’d be able to pay for the Krav Maga fight gear she’d had her eye on at the academy. As things stood, she got her classes free, in exchange for being a part-time office manager. But, as her skills increased, she found herself loving the adrenaline rush and aggression release that came with the accelerated training. She wanted to increase the number of classes she took. She also wanted to start participating in the one-on-one fight sessions that were offered several times a week to expose the students to real-life street fighting. For the latter, she had to buy fight gear. And that meant big bucks.
What better way to earn them than at the poker table?
Pulling on some comfortable sweats, Tina snapped open her cell phone and pressed a number on speed dial. “Hey,” she said, greeting one of her poker friends. “The game’s at your apartment tonight, right? Good. I’ll pick up some munchies and a six-pack on my way over. Prepare to take a huge beating.”
Bellevue Park South
New York City
April 4, 12:15 P.M.
“Thanks for meeting me.” Sloane took a bite of her hot dog and settled herself on the park bench overlooking the playground, and directly across the street from the medical center.
“No problem,” Luke replied, removing his white medical coat so he wouldn’t drip mustard on it. “I’m sorry for the one-star food. But I could only get away for an hour.”
“Hey, don’t knock one of New York’s great traditions,” Sloane said with a grin, taking another bite of her frank. “What respectable New Yorker hasn’t dined alfresco with one of these babies? It’s a rite of passage. Besides,” she added in a more serious tone, “I appreciate your meeting me on such short notice.”
“It was no big deal for me. I walked across the street. But you drove all the way from New Jersey, which means this is important. Is everything okay?”
Sloane nodded. “It wasn’t that much out of my way. I had to see my hand therapist for a follow-up visit. She’s at Cornell Medical Center today—and, as a result, so was I.”
Luke gestured toward her hand. “I was going to comment on the bandage. What happened? I hope not a setback.”
“A minor one. Would you believe I aggravated the scar tissue by trying to change a flat tire on my own, and had a huge battle with a lug-nut wrench?”
He chuckled. “Knowing you? Yes. How is it healing?”
She sighed. “I’ve got some inflammation and tenderness. But I’m fighting the good fight, following doctor’s orders and all that. So I’m on my way to recovery. Someday, when I stop being an impulsive idiot, I’ll be as good as new.”
“It’ll happen sooner than you think. Have patience.”
“Me? That’s a lost cause.” Sloane inclined her head in Luke’s direction. “How’s your mother? I’ve been at John Jay several times in the past week, and I haven’t run into her. That’s unusual.”
An expression of sad resignation flashed across Luke’s face. “She goes in to work more sporadically these days. She’s tired. As for the pain, some days are better than others. I try to make her as comfortable as possible. She’s a tr
ouper; never complains. But it’s difficult to watch.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sloane replied softly. Instinctively, she continued. “How are you doing?”
“Not well. She’s all I have—” Luke broke off, fighting to keep his emotions under control. “Nothing in life prepares you for this. Not even 9/11.” He exhaled sharply. “Let’s talk about something else. What did you want to see me about?”
Sloane hesitated. “I had a personal favor to ask. But seeing how much you’re hurting—maybe it isn’t such a good idea.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
Sloane nodded, then proceeded to tell Luke all about Burt and Elsa, and the idea she’d had for Luke to reach out to Burt. “Having said that, I don’t want to put you in the position of having to cope with your own trauma firsthand and make it worse by helping a stranger through a similar experience. Not to mention the fact that Elsa’s condition pales in comparison to Lillian’s. So why don’t we shelve this?”
“No.” Luke gave an adamant shake of his head. “I’d like to help. Focusing on other people’s pain helps me put my own in perspective.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. Sitting around describing the loss I’m about to endure is one thing. Applying my experience to get someone through a similar crisis is another matter entirely.”
Sloane squeezed his arm. “You haven’t changed a bit. You’re still one of the most calming and empathetic people I know.”
“Right back at you.” Luke took a bite of his hot dog. “Tell me about your neighbor. I take it his father is out of the picture.”
