“That’s it!” she barks. “Come in here, causing chaos and cursing all over the place! You’ll get me kicked out!”
My eyes bug out as my blood begins to warm again. “Because you haven’t caused enough chaos yourself?” I blurt out.
Her grin is impish. “I’ve been a perfect lady, I’ll have you know.”
A scoff comes from behind us, and both Miller and I turn blankly to face the nurse. “A perfect lady,” she muses, giving Nan eyebrows so high, I can’t tell where they end and her hairline begins.
“I’ve brightened the place up,” Nan retorts, pulling Miller and me back around. She gestures toward the other three beds, all occupied with frail old people, all sleeping. “I’ve got more life in me than those three put together! I’ve not come here to die, I assure you.”
I smile and glance up at Miller, who looks down at me all amused, his eyes twinkling. “A twenty-four-carat gold treasure.” He blinds me with a full-blown, all-white smile that nearly has me grabbing the curtain again.
“I know.” I grin and virtually dive across the bed into my nan’s arms. “I thought you were dead,” I tell her, relishing in the familiar scent of the laundry detergent she uses, ingrained into the material of her nightie.
“Death seems far more appealing that this dump,” she grumbles, earning herself a little nudge from me. “Oooh, watch my wires.”
I gasp and jump back, mentally scolding myself for being so careless. She might seem her spunky self, but she’s here for a reason. I watch her pull at a line in her arm, grumbling under her breath.
“Visiting hours finished at eight,” the nurse cuts in, rounding the bed to assist Nan. “You can come back tomorrow.”
My heart sinks. “But we’ve—”
Miller’s hand on my arm halts my complaint, and he looks to the nurse. “Would you mind?” He gestures away from the bed, and I watch, amused, as the nurse smiles coyly and leaves the bay, rounding the corner behind the curtains. I raise my eyebrows at Miller, but he just shrugs his perfect shoulders and follows the nurse. He might look drained, but he’s still a sight to behold. And he’s just bought me some time, so I couldn’t care less if the nurse is going to gaze at him all dreamy while he gets the lowdown on Nan’s condition.
Feeling eyes studying me, I leave Miller’s disappearing back and look down to my spunky grandmother. She looks all mischievous again. “His buns look even better in jeans.”
I roll my eyes and sit on the bed in front of her. “I thought you liked a young man to be well turned out.”
“Miller would look delicious in a sack.” She smiles and reaches for my hand, squeezing it in hers. It’s a comforting squeeze, which is crazy, given who’s the sick one here, but it also abruptly makes me wonder what Nan knows. “How are you, sweetheart?”
“Fine.” I don’t know what else to say, or what I should say. Need to know and all that, but does she really need to know now? I need to speak to William.
“Hmmm…” She eyes me suspiciously, and I shift on the bed, refusing to meet her stare.
I need to change the direction of the conversation. “Didn’t you prefer the private room?”
“Don’t you start!” She drops my hand and sits back in her chair, taking the remote and pointing it at the TV. The screen goes blank. “Being stuffed in that room was sending me crackers!”
I glance around at the other beds with a mild smile, thinking Nan’s probably been sending these poor folks crackers. And the nurse definitely looked like she’d had her fill. “How are you feeling?” I ask, finding her seated form again, seeing her fiddling with the lines in her arm. “Leave them!”
Her palms slap the arms of the chair on a huff. “I’m bored!” she squawks. “The food is crap, and they’re making me piddle in a pot.”
I chuckle, knowing her cherished dignity is being seriously compromised and she’s evidently not happy about it. “Do as you’re told,” I warn. “You’re here for a reason.”
“A mild flutter of my heart, that’s all.”
“You make it sound like you’ve been on a date!” I laugh.
“Tell me about New York.”
My laughter is sucked up in a second, and I’m back to fidgeting awkwardly as I search my brain for anything to say. Nothing is coming to me.
“I asked you to tell me about New York, Olivia,” she says soothingly, and I chance a glance at her, finding a face to match her tone. “Not how you came to be there.”