His nerves tightened. “Not Linus—”
“No, no,” she assured quickly. “We had a security alarm malfunctioning. Maintenance has been all over up here working on getting it fixed. Linus is sleeping, though. He had a good night. The fever hasn’t diminished. But it hasn’t worsened, either. His fa—Mr. Johnson, I mean—fed him last evening before leaving for the night and Linus ate very well. Finished his entire bottle for the first time in several days. We don’t want to change his diet too much during this stage of his recovery, of course, but he’ll certainly be ready for introducing more baby food when it’s time for him to come home.”
He should know that his son was ready to eat real food. He should know a million and one things, and Adam didn’t know any of them.
There was a reason why pregnancies took so long. To give parents an opportunity to get used to the idea of actually being a parent.
In Adam’s case, there’d been no time at all.
“We tried pureed bananas the other day,” the nurse was saying. “Just a taste. Little guy didn’t want anything to do with them. But that’s common. You’ll just try offering them again sometime down the road. Chances are he’ll have completely changed his mind about them.”
“Not if he’s anything like—” He broke off, realizing what he’d been about to say. Like me. He cleared his throat. “Any idea when that time to go home might actually be?”
“I’m sorry,” she said sympathetically. “It’s too soon to speculate on that.”
Which he already knew. But he couldn’t help asking.
The server—a girl who looked about thirteen—was heading their way with two glasses of water. She set them on the table then went away again when she saw he was on his cell phone.
“His mother and I should be at the hospital sometime this afternoon,” he told the nurse.
“Angelica made a note in his chart that you’d be arriving soon. For some reason, I thought it wouldn’t be until tomorrow.”
He looked at Laurel. She was listening raptly to his side of the conversation, the menu forgotten. “Is she going to be able to see him? And I don’t mean with a window separating them.”
“That’ll be up to Dr. Patel. You know the rules.”
He rubbed his hands down his face. The rules that had prevented him from being able to hold Linus were the same rules that could prevent Laurel from doing so, too. “Isn’t there a test or something you can run? Something that proves she’s not carrying any kind of germ or infection?”
“Dr. Patel—”
“Yeah, I know. Everything’s up to Dr. Patel.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. The shower he’d grabbed in Durango seemed like it had been days ago. If he weren’t consumed with worry over Linus and Laurel and what sort of situation awaited them in Houston, he felt like he could sleep a week straight. “I should have cell service pretty consistently from here on out, so if anything—”
“We’ll call you, Mr. Fortune. Please don’t worry yourself unnecessarily. Linus needs you to be fit and able. That means you need to take care of yourself, as well.”
“You give that same lecture to Mr. Johnson?”
He could hear the smile in her voice. “We give that same lecture to all the families of our patients, Mr. Fortune. Unless you have any other questions, I really should—”
“No. I appreciate your time.”
“Of course. We know this is a challenging time. Whatever we can do to help ease the pain of waiting, we’ll try to do.” She hung up.
“No change, I gather,” Laurel concluded quietly.
He pinched his eyes closed. “Not yet.” Then he deliberately set aside the phone and tapped the menu. “Well? Anything interesting? Guacamole on toast or something?”
“It’s avocado on toast,” she corrected wryly, “and no.” She handed him the menu. “I’m sticking with Ernie’s recommendation.”
After a quick glance down the limited choices, he agreed. “So am I.” They gave their orders to the server and Adam leaned back as far as his chair allowed and stretched out his legs.
Laurel, on the other hand, seemed to be making herself as small as humanly possible.
“What’re you worrying about? If the maple syrup here is the real thing or not?”
Her aquamarine eyes lifted and the corners of her lips twitched. “I was...” She let out a sudden, noisy breath. “Actually, I was wondering what will happen once we get to Houston.”
“Parents can stay twenty-four-seven in the room with their kids.”
That fact didn’t seem to ease her mind any.
He sat forward again and rested his arms on the table, covering her twisting hands with his. “I don’t think Eric usually spends the night there. He’s got a business to run, too.” He wasn’t leaving her alone with the guy, either, until he knew for certain that she didn’t fear him for some reason. And if she really didn’t, he still didn’t want to leave her alone with him.
Yeah, she was still wearing that necklace after all these years, but she’d also told Adam to his face last June that she intended to honor her engagement. She was marrying Eric and what had happened between her and Adam after Oozefest was best forgotten.
Not wanting to think about that fact didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.
Her fingers moved inside his, dragging him back from the edge of that particular pit. “Are all donors usually granted this sort of access?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know. The way you’re able to talk to the doctors and nurses about the patient who received your donation?”
He heard a strange ringing in his ears as his mind went blank. His hands went lax and he sat back in his seat.
“Or is it just because they know—” she moistened her lips and picked up her fork to study it as if it were the most fascinating thing on the planet “—that they know I’m with you?”
“Yeah.” Like the coward he was, he latched onto the vaguely plausible excuse that
