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“You look radiant.” He kissed my forehead. “Wayne has lunch for us in the car.”
“Where’re we going?”
“It’s time for a family visit. I’ve wanted to meet your grandfather since the very first story you told me about him teaching you to change the tire on your bicycle. I always wanted a woman who knew her way around a tire lever. I want to meet this legend in your life and see if I measure up. I’ve got two hours before I have to be downtown for my next meeting.”
In the back of the limousine, we spread big cloth napkins over our laps before tucking into the old-fashioned picnic of fried chicken, potato salad, and coleslaw. We ripped off hunks of fresh crusty bread and when I tried to tidy the crumbs, Simon caught my hand and shook his head. I wasn’t supposed to do those jobs and knew it. It just seemed rude to mess up Wayne’s car like that.
“Wayne has his cars detailed every morning before they go on the road.”
I shrugged and picked up a tart-sized tourtière, kept warm from the bakery in a specially insulated container. The fragrant scent of pork and thyme teased me, and I paused a second before chomping into the rich crumbly pastry.
“You’re hungry.” Simon grinned as if seeing me eat gave him pleasure.
“Not for long.” I swallowed a mouthful of savory delight. “I don’t want to get to D2’s room with my stomach rumbling. It seems kind of mean to eat like this while he’s stuck with hospital food.”
“Don’t worry about him. I’m sure they’re taking care of him and, if they aren’t, your mother probably is.”
I brightened at the mention of my mother. “She had enough leftovers from last night’s party to feed an army for a week. I should bring him some tonight.”
Would she be at the hospital again? I didn’t think so. She was still pretty tired from her own injuries. The doctors said she needed a lot of rest. I gave a prayer of thanks for that. At least I wouldn’t have to witness her sniping at Simon in the hospital. The thought of keeping the two of them apart fatigued me.
As if he could read my thoughts, Simon said, “Didn’t you say that Cynthia visited your grandfather this morning? I’m sure she won’t go back so soon.”
“You’re right.” I shook my head, hoping I could keep them apart for the rest of Simon’s visit.
D2 was being helped back into bed when we arrived. Simon and I waited in the hallway until the tall, blond therapist said, “You’re amazing, Donnie boy. You’re weeks ahead of where many patients are so soon after a stroke. You’re going to set new records, you are.”
The therapist sounded more Irish than D2 did. With a big smile he exited the room and when he saw Simon and me waiting to go in, he said, “He’s doing well. I haven’t seen anyone come back so strongly from a stroke before.”
Simon stopped to have a word with him, and I went to see D2. He was lying on his bed, breathing heavily. His closely cut hair was slicked to his skull. With a three-day growth of white beard and a dark mustache that mirrored his thick dark eyebrows, he looked more like Sean Connery than ever.
“Sadie, my darling one.” He held up his left arm, but his right arm barely lifted off the bed.
“Hello handsome,” I slipped under his left arm and hugged him as best I could. He smelled of Old Spice and garlic.
“What are they feeding you? I thought it was against the law for hospitals to serve tasty food.”
The left side of his mouth rose in a smile. “I get whatever I like. There’s a fine young man comes every morning with a menu from La Belle Vie and then delivers my lunch and dinner, warm from the restaurant. I’ve never had it so good.”
“La Belle Vie does take out?”
“They must,” D2 said and motioned to a menu on his side table. I picked it up and my eyes popped at the prices. I saw Simon’s fingerprints all over this arrangement.
“Hello, Mister Donohue.” Simon arrived with a doctor trailing behind him. “I’m Simon Jacobson and I’m looking forward to joining your family soon.” Simon took D2’s left hand and held it for a second, smiling at him as if meeting a geriatric car mechanic was the highlight of his year.
The doctor, a stout young woman, raven haired, dark eyed, and wearing wire framed glasses turned to me. “I’m Doctor Mindy Mansoor, head of Neurology. I’m taking a personal interest in our million-dollar patient.” She beamed at D2.
“Sadie Donohue.” I shook her hand, almost transfixed by her beauty.
When I tore my eyes away, I glanced at Simon quizzically. Million-dollar patient? He shifted closer to D2, turning his back to me, and said something quiet. The two of them laughed. D2 whispered something back that I couldn’t hear. They laughed again.
“How’s my grandfather doing?” I asked for the lack of anything better to say.
“Sadie! I’m right here. I’m not ready for the wrecker’s yard yet. You can talk to me if you want to know something.” D2 shot me a reproachful look. At least his hearing was fine.
“Yes I know, but I thought you and Simon were discussing fishing or hockey or some other manly topic.”
“She’s cheeky, this one. Hope you can handle her.” D2 sighed and reached for my hand. I slipped his between both of mine and gently squeezed his warm, gnarled fingers.
