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He loved her for asking, but again, he thought it best to wait a bit before inviting his mom, his family, into Tatum’s issues.
“No. But thank you.”
“Keep me posted, Charlie.”
“I will. I don’t know how soon they’ll let her out.”
If it were up to him, Charlie wouldn’t let Sutton leave the hospital for days. But insurance and costs would be the final factor. As bad as Sutton looked, she wasn’t critical. They would cut her loose long before he would be comfortable with it.
“Do you think she’ll stay with Tatum?”
Charlie sighed. “I’d rather they were all at my house.”
“Okay.” His mom sounded like a soldier, armed with a plan. “I’ll get the spare bed made up and get some food in for you guys.”
“I love her, Mom,” Charlie told her. She knew. Of course, she knew. But he couldn’t say it to Tatum right now. So, he’d tell his mom.
“We do, too.”
Comforted by the short talk with his mom, he paced back up the hallway, rolling his eyes a few minutes later when his phone buzzed again.
Do u need us? Everleigh’s worried sick.
Jesus. Had Tatum texted Everleigh, or had his mom already sounded the alarm?
Ok for now. Let u know when I know.
Breena’s planning 2 make some casseroles 2 drop off.
Did Mom text everybody?
Dude. They all knew Everleigh and I did it behind Tetris before I had my pants zipped. Chill.
Charlie snorted despite himself.
U gonna propose?
Y?
Do it soon, man. Not gonna wait forever on ur ass.
40
Tatum stroked Bryony’s wispy blond hair back from her face and watched her sleep. Sutton had asked her to go to the neighbor’s house and get her. Tatum hated to leave Sutton, and part of her questioned bringing Bryony into the hospital, letting her see her mom so broken. On the other hand, Tatum knew she was probably scared, that she would want Sutton. Not to mention that Sutton wasn’t going to heal overnight, and Tatum couldn’t keep Bryony away from her until she did feel better, and the bruises faded.
Charlie had driven them to Columbus Junction at seven. Tatum wished she could crawl over the console in the truck and lean into him, so when he reached for her hand, she’d held on tight. He hadn’t said much, but his silence was soothing. When they finally arrived at the Robertson house—the neighbors who had kept Bryony overnight—Charlie had done the talking.
Tatum was too exhausted to know if she was angry with him for stepping in or relieved that he’d stepped up. He introduced himself and Tatum, produced his driver’s license to prove he was Charlie Murphy, and told the older woman Sutton had asked Tatum to pick up Bryony. The woman had eyed Tatum for a moment, but before she could make any decisions, Bryony had wandered close to the door and seen Tatum.
The little girl looked tiny, frightened. Dressed in pink shorts and a white t-shirt, she was barefoot, wisps of hair escaping from a French braid. When she saw Tatum, she had thrown herself at her, wrapped her arms around her waist, and clung to her.
They didn’t have a car seat in Charlie’s truck, but as far as Tatum knew, Sutton didn’t even have a car to put one in. Tatum had buckled Bryony into the back of the extended cab and climbed in beside her. She’d asked her several times on the thirty-minute drive back to the hospital if she was okay. Bryony struggled to be brave, but Tatum could see the fear, the anxiety in her face.
She’d clung to Tatum when they first walked into Sutton’s room, but she had stood side-by-side with her at Sutton’s bedside. Sutton gave her a pathetic smile. Promised her she would be fine. Bryony put her hand in Sutton’s and held on for a moment.
The last little go-around she’d had with Sutton had come to mind then.
I suck at being a mom. I know you’d do it so much fucking better.
