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“It’s my body.”
Doc laughs, pushing the machine to the side of the room. “I don’t think Mr. Black will agree. Now, remember what I’ve told you?”
“Yes, I must take it easy and not stress out.” Landing a tried look on him, I sigh. “Did you miss who I’m married to, Doc?”
“I did not, which is why I am passionate about you taking care of yourself and the baby.” He presents me with a little bottle. “Lavender oil. Put it in your bath, on your pillow, in your purse if you must. It’s soothing, physically and mentally.” He sets it on the nightstand.
“Thank you.” I fall to my back. “Can I ask you something?”
“No,” he says flatly, and I pout.
“You don’t know what I’m going to ask.”
“Exactly. I have always lived by the rule that if someone asks you if they may ask you something, you either won’t like the question or they won’t like the answer.”
“Oh.” I consider his logic for a moment, and I soon think better of asking my question. I can’t, however, decide whether Doc would not like me asking him why he’s here, or whether I would not like the answer.
“How is your palm?” He cranes his head as he packs his bag, and I turn it over to show him the mild red blemish from my frying pan incident.
“It doesn’t hurt.”
“And your arm?”
I look at yet another injury on my body. It’s nothing compared to Danny’s chest. “It’s fine.”
“And Danny’s changing his dressings regularly?”
“Yes,” I sigh, knowing why he won’t let me do it. “Just now before you got here.”
“I’ll leave some more waterproof dressings and fresh bandages here.” He pops some on the nightstand and collects his bag. “Perhaps you could pop in to see Beau now. I believe Mr. Kelly has left the house with Mr. Black.”
I nod and sit up. “Any advice?” I ask.
“Patience.” He smiles as he backs out of the door. “Lots of love and patience.” He disappears, and I get up, taking a shower and throwing on a loose blush-pink sundress and some flip-flops. I coil my hair into a bun, then I call Esther.
“How’s Daniel?” I ask, letting myself out onto the terrace. I cast my eyes around the expansive area, rewinding to three years ago. Three years ago when a missile took the old terrace out with me on it. I flinch, hearing Danny bellowing my name, scrambling to reach me as I dangled precariously off the edge. Scared to let go. But even more scared not to. Because I had fallen in love with the monster who’d taken me, and the repercussions of that were terrifying.
“He’s out with Barney and his father again,” Esther says, sounding a little flat and short, bringing me back to the present. “They collected him when his tutor left after lunch.”
“I’ll try his cell,” I reply, lowering to a sun lounger and looking across to the tennis courts. “Lawrence?”
“Working.”
“Does he know about what’s happened? About Beau’s mom?”
“Well, I haven’t told him,” she says, as the sound of crockery clatters in the background. “It’s not my place.”
“And you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
My head tilts. She doesn’t sound fine. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Right,” I say slowly. I won’t push it. There’s little point. I expect it has something to do with Otto being here and Esther being there but, again, I’m not pushing it. “I appreciate you taking care of Daniel.” Esther takes care of everyone. It’s second nature to her, but I would hate for her to feel unappreciated.
“He’s settled. Best not disrupt him.” She’s saying out loud what she’s told herself endlessly. That this was her decision. We all know better, including Otto, and I can’t imagine it went down well with him. “I had better scoot. I have a pie in the oven. I need both hands to get it out.”
