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“I’ll never forget the time you and I both rode her bareback through the trails all the way to Main Street.”
“You wanted to get ice cream.” The smile in her voice comes through the car’s speaker.
“Yep. And we bought it, and she reached over your shoulder, and with one bite nabbed the top half of your cone.”
“And then opened her mouth to spit it out. I don’t think she expected it would be cold.”
Sunny and I rode a lot of trails together over the years. At least, after she and Sam split. Sam moved away for college and never returned. Sometimes Ollie would join us, but during that time period, he spent most of his free time at his fraternity. Sunny always rode Polly. My horse varied, but more often than not, I rode a bay quarter horse named Pepper.
“She was a good horse. Sometimes more like a dog than a horse. Remember how she used to follow you around the pasture and the barn? Wherever you went, she’d be a few feet behind you.”
“She was the best.” Sunny blows her nose. When she returns, her tone is bright and forced. “What’s going on with you?”
“Not much. Just living the dream.”
A text comes through. The notification flashes long enough for me to read that the chief of surgery wants me to call her.
“I’m not buying it.” Sunny says. “Your tone is off. Tough day?”
“You are perceptive.” Sunny and Mom are both perceptive. “It’s been a long day.”
“Your aura is off. That’s how I can tell.”
“My aura,” I repeat.Only Sunny. “Maybe I need you to bring some of your aromatherapy my way.”
“You’re into aromatherapy now?”
“Didn’t you tell me I needed better smelling soaps and lotions? Something less harsh and more, what did you call it? Hopeful?”
“I forgot all about that,” she says.
Because it was months ago.
“Maybe we can barter.” She sounds tentative, which is odd.
“Barter? I’d give you anything. You know that.”
“Well, you remember John? The owner of Jack’s Lounge?”
“Yeah.” The older man had been taken with Sunny. Like every other man within her radius.
“Well, he’d like for me to come play one Sunday night. Not for the whole night, but as part of an acoustic rotation he’s planned. He’s been asking for a while, but I couldn’t get away. I’ll bring you lots of goodies for letting me crash at your place.”
“Sunny, you can stay at my place any time. And that should be easier now, right?” I cringe at the unstated implication. It’s too soon to be pointing out the advantages of Polly’s death. “Seriously, Sunny, I’d love for you to come visit. Any time.” Silence fills the distance, and as I pull into my apartment complex, I sweeten the deal. “You weren’t wrong about my aura. I need some of your sun. It’s been a tough few weeks.” My phone vibrates, and there’s another text. “Sunny, I’ve got to run. But seriously, any time.”
I disconnect the call and click over to call Leida, our chief of surgery. It’s late, and she’s calling me from her cell phone, so it’s probably not good news, but if I need to return to the hospital, she wouldn’t be the one calling me.
“Hi, Leida.”
“What exactly did you say to Mr. Moerman?”
“Who?” I stretch my neck to the side, open the car door, and pick up my phone.
“The father of the motorcyclist. He initially refused to donate organs. He wanted to see video of the surgery. He was somehow convinced Houston Medical was to blame for his son’s death.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“I offered an autopsy. That’s it.”
