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He doesn’t get to complete his sentence as his phone begins to ring. Michael takes it out of his pocket, and my eyes narrow when I watch his face go from open and welcoming to guarded and shifty.
He shoves the phone back into his pocket.
“I have to take this. I’ll catch up with you later.” Then, he hurries away.
Friend? Lover? Someone he left in the city? Whatever it is, it sure seemed like trouble. And I’m not about to be that Good Samaritan. Not at this point.
With that, I make a beeline for Doctor Owen’s office.
When I get there, I see Madison seated on the chair opposite his desk, a stethoscope around her neck with the earpiece in her ears and the chest piece on her dress.
“Logan,” Owen says. I see the weight of grief on his shoulders.
“I heard,” I say.
“Yeah.”
“Tough?”
He exhales. “He’ll pull through, but he won’t be the same. The bullet, did a lot of damage.”
“Oh.”
I don’t know what else to say, so I stand there, watching him process his emotions in real time. I might be a proclaimed “savior” who doesn’t rest until he’s saved everyone, but I’m helpless when it comes to comforting someone whose job is to save.
Was that how Ethan felt when he came to see me after Sarah died?
“Daddy!” Madison finally notices me.
“Hey, pumpkin,” I say softly, kissing her hair. “When did you get here? Why didn’t you have Mrs. Owen call me?”
“She stopped here to see him. She said we would go home after a while. That’s why we didn’t call you.”
“Yeah,” Owen says. “My wife is around. She’s talking to his wife. I was going to bring Madison to you, but I needed some time.”
“Since I’m here, I’ll take that off your hands,” I say.
“Thank you,” he looks a bit relieved that I figure I should give him some space.
I tap Madison on the shoulder.
“Come on, kiddo. Let’s go.”
“Can we stop and get some flowers for Lily?” Madison asks when we get into the car.
Her question surprises me, and I abandon the car to give her my full attention.
“Flowers?”
She nods. “Yeah. Flowers.”
“Why?”
She shrugs. “Because Mrs. Owen said that you give flowers to people you like, and we like Lily. And the flowers she bought for her husband were lovely, and I think Lily will like them. Oh!” Her eyes shine, “what about lilies?”
“Lilies?” I’m still going through thepeople we likepart of her explanation, and the only thing I can offer are monotonous responses.
“Yup. Lilies. Since her name—for now—is Lily, then we should give her lilies, right?”
