Laurel looked bewildered. “That’s it?”
Dr. Granger smiled gently. “I’d tell you to stay in touch, but it’s been my experience that patients who recover enough to leave on their own steam generally don’t.”
Laurel looked like she was about to cry. “I don’t know what to say. ‘Thank you for everything’ doesn’t seem to be enough.” She hugged the director. “I’m going to miss you.”
“And we’ll miss you, too.” Dr. Granger patted her back and sniffed before stepping away and leading them out of her cramped office. “Fortunately, I have a meeting to get to, so there’s no time to wallow. I am going to call you, Adam,” she warned, as she shooed them in the direction of the kitchen while she went in the other. “To make certain you’re taking proper care of things. I expect you to answer.”
“Always,” he said seriously. “You’re the only reason I have her back.”
The director smiled and sniffed again and turned on her heel.
Even though he said the words, he knew they weren’t exactly true. For now, he was the one person Laurel vaguely recalled BA. Before Accident.
What would happen when she remembered everything else?
When she got her life back?
When she remembered Linus? Not that she had been the one to give the baby that name.
Until five days ago, Adam hadn’t had any reason to wonder what actual name the baby’s mother had bestowed on him when he’d been born.
“You’re frowning,” Laurel said. “Are you changing your mind before we’ve even begun our road trip?”
“No. Just wondering. Why didn’t you tell Dr. Granger about the baby?”
“Because I didn’t want to give her another reason to talk me out of going.”
He wasn’t sure that would have been the result, but he hadn’t been exactly forthright with the director, either.
“So if you haven’t changed your mind,” she said, smiling gamely even though he could see the uncertainty in her eyes, “let’s get moving.” She tugged his sleeve. “Lunch on Saturdays is always fish and chips. If we want to get any, we’ll need to beat Mr. Grabinski before he has a chance to have his third helping.”
Two hours and a helping of fish and chips later, they were finally on their way.
The plane tickets were canceled.
Laurel had shared hugs and goodbyes with every person at Fresh Pine—employee and patient.
The car rental agency had traded in the light gray minuscule economy car for a light gray slightly less minuscule economy car. They’d even provided a map highlighting the best route to get out of Seattle.
And since Adam had checked out of his motel that morning before he’d brought the maple donuts, it was at least one less thing that had needed doing.
“That morning” seemed a lot longer ago than mere hours.
He glanced at Laurel sitting in the passenger seat beside him.
Her window was rolled down a few inches and her hair blew lightly around her shoulders. Her hands were folded together in her lap. But the nail beds were white because of the ferocity of her grip.
“You want to change your mind?”
She gave him a quick look. “No.” She looked away. “No,” she said more firmly. Less defensively. She stopped clenching her hands and rubbed her palms down her thighs.
“You could have waited until we sorted out your identification so you could fly.”
She shook her head. “Who knows how long that’d take? At least this way, I feel like I’m doing something. Linus needs his mother. If I let him down again—” She broke off and caught her blowing hair in her hand, looking out the window at the city they were leaving behind. “I can’t stay here and just wait, sitting on my thumbs wondering about questions that don’t seem to have an answer. Even if there is a part of me saying it would be the safest thing to do.”
He shifted in the seat. He’d pushed it back as far as it would go to give himself more leg room, but he’d become accustomed to driving a truck since moving to Rambling Rose. The car felt particularly small with Laurel sitting next to him, so close that his arm brushed hers whenever he rested it on the narrow console between them. “The answers’ll come. When they’re ready.”
“You sound very properly coached by Dr. Granger.”
He smiled despite himself.
And she did, too.
“So,” she said after he’d navigated to the freeway that was crawling with traffic even on a Saturday afternoon, “how long will it take for us to get there?”
Too long. “Is this your version of Are We There Yet?”
She gave him an offended look that wasn’t very convincing considering the smile still in her eyes. “I’m not a whiner.” She frowned. “Am I?”
She had been many things. But a whiner wasn’t one of them. “Not that I recall. We’ll know if that’s changed about five hours from now and you’re sick of sitting in this car with me.”
“I’m not going to get sick of that.” She reached out and began fiddling with the radio buttons. “I will get sick of listening to sports talk, though. We need music. Do you have a preference?”
“Yeah. Sports.”
She made a face.
“You liked sports well enough,” he told her. “Participating, anyway. Track. Volleyball.”
“Sure, but not for hours and hours on end. And definitely not golf. About as exciting as waiting for a pot to boil.”
And yet, golf lessons had been something Sylvia and Nelson had insisted upon. They were members of the country club, after all, and they couldn’t very well have a daughter who didn’t excel at golf. And tennis. She’d even had cotillion lessons.
“You think you ever learned, then, to actually boil something? Maybe, say, water?”
She made a sound in her throat that—far as Adam had ever determined—only a disgusted woman could make. “Are you suggesting I can’t cook?”
He couldn’t help smiling. “Unless you learned somewhere along the way, I’m saying it outright. The only thing I ever saw you use an oven
