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When the next trolley came pulling up close to the stand in the middle of the street where Mike had left her, bruising her lips with his well-planted kiss, she knew what she had to do.
No doubt, she looked like a wreck, standing in front of that receptionist with the snippy attitude. Still, she wasn’t going to let anyone keep her from Andie. Not this time.
“She might be taking a nap now.” The woman insisted.
“Do you know that for sure?”
“All of the children do at this time of day.” The woman stacked some papers together. “It’s enough that you’ve been causing multiple disruption to our facilities.”
“Let me see Mike then.”
“Myron? He’s working with the children.”
“But you said they were all napping.”
Cat would have laughed, might have laughed back in the days when laughter was possible. Now, this woman just made her angry. Everything, her denial to be with her child, Mama slapping her, sending May to take her baby from her in a basket, was centered in this mean-looking woman with pursed up lips and an attitude as if she, Cat Benet, were less than nothing. She started to reach across the high counter and grab the woman by her severe gray dress, but Mike’s hand, that indistinguishable touch of his, startled her back into her right mind.
He pulled on her shoulder and she turned around to him.
That louse had the nerve to look as if his dog had gotten hit by streetcar.
Lightness invaded her head and she slumped against him, just as she had when May took Andie away in the basket. Mike slid his strong arms up under her and cradled her to him.
“What’s the matter with her?” the receptionist woman asked.
“She just, she’s tired, Sarah. That’s all. Like you ladies get. I’ll take her upstairs. Come get the elevator for me.”
“If you are taking her up to your room, I do approve of any funny business here in the children’s hospital.”
Cat closed her eyes against Mike’s broad chest wanting to sleep, faint or something. The last thing on her mind was funny business with Mike, even if his arms held her firmly, yet gently as he might a China teacup.
“Woman, are you going to open the elevator or not?”
Mike’s tone must have startled the woman, because she immediately went and opened the elevator and let them on it, sliding the gate shut with a particularly strong ferocity.
“You ok?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
He squeezed her body and legs closer to her in his grasp. “I was ready to walk up all four of them flights with you in my arms, Cat.”
Cat pulled her head back and regarded him. “I should have made you.”
Laughter resonated throughout his body and she remembered, with some warmth, that he had crispy black chest hair. Was it still there?
“I would do it for you, Cat.”
The elevator bounced up and down, and her stomach matched the bounce. Again. “I can walk. I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll take you in on my arm.”
“That’s fine. I didn’t have much breakfast today, I was so worried about getting her here.”
“I understand.” He put Cat down and she righted herself on her pumps. “I’ll help get you some lunch too.”
She put her hand in the warm crook of his arm and they walked down the long hallway together with the occasional voice calling out Mike’s name. “Go on back to your nap. I’ll be in to see you later.” He called out to the children over and over again.
Wasn’t that something? Mike was the last person she thought might want to be bothered, back in the old day. And now, here he was, beloved by these children as they recovered from this horrific disease. With their daughter as one of them.
