Package Deal(49)

Amanda was dozing in a chair pulled up beside Cecelia’s bed, both hands cradling her daughter’s right arm.

“Amanda, hon.” He touched her shoulder. “I’ve brought you something to eat.”

She stirred and sat up stiffly. “I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.” Her eyes were red-rimmed and tiny lines radiated out from the corners. Worry lines, he thought. But she never had seemed so beautiful, caught up in love for her child, a child whose side she wouldn’t leave. How could I do more as a parent? Marcus wanted to gather them both in his arms and carry them off to some place where neither would ever be hurt again.

“You needed sleep. You have to get rest, too. Here. Have a sandwich. And coffee, and some salad. It’s fresh.” He placed the food on a movable tray and pulled it near the bed.

She started to shake her head. “I’m really not hungry.”

“You have to eat, Amanda. You hardly touched your food the other day. If you don’t eat, they’ll have to hook you up to an IV and stick you in a bed on the adult floor. You won’t be able to hold Cecelia’s hand if they do that.”

Amanda rubbed her hand across her face and blinked at him. “You aren’t going to let it go, are you?”

“No. Tell you what. If I take a bite, will you do the same? We can see who finishes first.” He winked at her, remembering a happier time when they had enjoyed a race to finish a sandwich and get on to other things.

She patted Cecelia’s arm and reached for the sandwich.

“Good girl.” He took a bite and then held up a cup so she could sip.

“Thanks.”

“My pleasure.Has she squeezed your hand again?”

“Yes, but the nurses don’t believe me.” Her chin puckered. “I know she did.”

“If you felt it, I’m sure it happened.” He took another bite of his sandwich. “Have they lowered the sedation again?”

She nodded. “Twice.”

He gulped his coffee, gearing up for what he had to say. “I have to ask you something.”

“What?” She looked up at him and reached for the salad fork.

“I spoke to your student, Robert Francis. He’s in your afternoon freshman section.”

She nodded. “He sits in the back, reminds me of a farm kid—all elbows and knees. Why did you need to talk to him?”

“I found his class assignment, the one that was due last Friday—at your house, on the floor next to the couch. Did you pick it up before you went home? He said he was late to class because of an earlier exam. He told me he slid it under your office door.”

Amanda sipped her coffee. “No, I didn’t go back to the office on Friday. Cece had a game at the city field and we went home right after that. I had my things with me so we didn’t need to stop by the office and disturb Carlton. He often works late on Fridays. Robert must have brought it to the house.” She stopped chewing and frowned. “But I don’t give out my home address. He would have had to ask Beatrice for my address and she doesn’t usually give that information to students.”

Marcus shook his head. “Rob was very clear. He says he put it under your office door. Who else might have dropped it off?” He tossed the sandwich papers in the trash then paused.“What about Carl?”

For the first time in many hours, Amanda smiled at him. “Carlton, Marcus. He would be very upset to be called Carl.” She took another bite of her salad. “He knows where I live, but he’s never come to the house. He barely speaks to me.” She looked up with a start, her eyes wide. “Oh, goodness! I need to call Greg and tell him I can’t be in class for a while.”

“No need. I did that and your classes are covered. In fact, Greg taught your 101 session today.”

“I hope he isn’t upset that I wasn’t there.”

“He said not to worry about it, and they want you to know they’re thinking about you and Cecelia.”

“The flowers over there are from the department. I wondered how they found out so quickly.” She reached for the coffee cup. “I should have figured you told them.”

“Amanda, I’m family, remember—in case any of the nurses ask. You need to stay close to Cecelia. Let your colleagues help out. They’re happy to do it. Do you want me to drive you home tonight?”

“No. The doctor keeps telling me I should go home, but I don’t want to miss when Cece wakes up.” Her face turned stern.

“How are you going to sleep? You can’t be slumped over her bed all night. You’ll wake up feeling like a pretzel.”

Amanda grinned, seeming to relax further. “I don’t know what a pretzel feels like. Maybe they can bring me one of those chairs that fold out into a bed, like the ones in maternity wards. One of my friends at Iowa, when she had her baby … Her husband stayed with her and he slept on one.”