Never Been Kissed(11)

Yes. This is a good plan. I want to go home and eat, anything to get out of this hospital. This lady is giving me a way out. So, why does it feel like running away? And besides, Matty’s wrapped around me, and I don’t want to wake him up by transferring him to his grandmother.

“I think I’ll stay. Besides, I need to watch after Matty. Make sure he gets some food in him.” The way her mouth twists up has me fighting a grin. “You’re more than welcome to join us.” I throw out as an afterthought just to be polite. I hope to hell she doesn’t want to come.

A hand claws its way up her throat. “Eat food? Here?” I might as well have invited her to dine with a colony of lepers. Bloody hell.

“We’ll see you in a bit, then.” I move to stand, wrapping my arms around Matty’s body, trying to minimize the amount of jostling he’ll experience. Grabbing my purse, I follow the signs for the cafeteria.

“Matty,” I whisper in his ear, feel his arms give me an unconscious squeeze in sleep. My heart flips over as I rub his back to wake him up. “Matty, we need to eat something.”

Lifting his head from my shoulder, he looks at me with blue eyes almost like his father’s. “Sera, I’m tired.” He yawns right in my face, being so adorable I can’t even take it.

“I know, buddy. We were hyped up before, and now we’re crashing. We’re gonna eat, and you’ll feel better. Promise. How’s a ham and cheese sandwich sound?”

I focus on nutrition. We need real food, as much as hospital cafeteria food will provide, not empty calories. I would put my name in the Goblet of Fire for a cup of coffee right about now.

I grab an apple juice, a bottle of water. I add two ham and cheese sandwiches, a pasta salad with chopped veggies. A cup of coffee for me, black with three sugars. I add a large Styrofoam chicken soup that I think we can both share.

When I’m done paying, I let Matty choose the table, following his dark head to one in the corner. We tuck in. Matty’s got a hold of one triangle of his ham and cheese sandwich, still only two bites in when I wolfed mine down in a very unlady-like fashion.

I start sipping coffee, hoping to distract myself from my hunger. I would rather the little guy eats more than me. My body can eat the fat on my ass instead.

“Does your Dad get tired often, Matty?”

Still munching, he looks up at the ceiling, like the right answer’s written there. “Not every day as bad as today. Sometimes, he gets tired three, four, five times a day! And he’s always okay. That’s how I know he’s gonna be okay.”

I smirk, hoping the kid’s right. I can’t imagine his grandmother taking care of him if something were to happen to Hunter.

“How old are you, little man?”

He juts out his free hand, holding up four fingers. “Four!”

I make my eyes pop in surprise. “Four years old? I thought you were five! Wow. And you knew exactly what to tell the nurses about your Dad. I’m seriously impressed.”

“Daddy always makes sure I know what to say in case I have to call nine-one-one when he gets tired,” he tells me, taking another bite of his sandwich.

I wince. It totally sucks that the he has to know that. I can’t imagine how inadequate Hunter must feel, teaching his kid what to say and do if his life is ever in danger.

“If your Dad has to sleep here, do you want to stay with your grandmother tonight, Matty?” I open the soup, dunk a spoon in and try it. Yeah, it’s going to need about ten packets of salt. I start searching in my purse for some, noting that I’ll need to replenish my supply before we leave to go and see Hunter again. Salt and burn, baby.

Matty pulls a face and shakes his head. “No way. Grandma doesn’t have Peter Pan, and Eddie’s always sleepy when I ask him to play with me.”

“Eddie?” I ask, thinking it’s Hunter’s dad. But then Matty would’ve said grandpa. I concentrate on the soup instead, letting the warmth hit my belly as I slurp it up.

Matty nods, taking another two bites from his sandwich. I reach for the plastic casing it was in and pull out the second triangle for him to eat. “Yeah, Eddie. Eddie takes care of Grandma and me, when I’m there. He makes me eat vegetables,” Matty sticks his tongue out in disgust, “and makes Grandma drinks that smell and taste funny.”

I choke on my mouthful of soup and have to swallow it down hastily if I don’t want to die. Well, I am in a hospital, so it could be a lot worse.

“Is Daddy going to stay here tonight, Sera?” he asks.

I shrug. “We’re going to have to ask him that, little buddy. When you’re done eating, we’ll go and see him, alright?”