Riley rolled a nearby stool to Carmen’s side. A timer beeped loudly at the next station, and Carmen opened her eyes.
She smiled. “Oh, hello. I didn’t even see you come in. How are you?”
Riley smiled back. “I’m pretty good, Carmen. How are you?”
“Happy,” she said. Her blue eyes shone with such contentment that Riley almost believed her. “It’s so good to see you. Where’s Mark?”
Carmen remembered their previous visit. That was a nice surprise. “I’m not sure. They couldn’t reach him, so they called me. I hope that’s all right.”
“Of course. I hope nothing’s wrong. Mark’s never missed an appointment. I worry about him. He’s so lonely.” Her face brightened. “But he was so changed with you.”
Riley swallowed, not answering.
“Tell me your name.”
Riley breathed out a small laugh. “I’m Riley Madigan.”
“Yes. Riley Madigan. You’re an art teacher.”
“I am. I brought you some of my paintings to look at.” She pulled out a few of the canvases from the tote, and Carmen gasped.
“Oh, look at the robin. He’s beautiful. You’ve captured him perfectly. The males are given all the beautiful colors to attract the females, you know.”
“Maybe that’s because they don’t have much else going for them.”
Carmen laughed. “Oh, that’s terrible.” Her blue eyes focused on Riley. “But you’re able to see all that Mark has going for him. I could tell. And you—he eases your pain.”
Carmen’s machine beeped loudly, and Riley backed away as a nurse hurried over and started working to get Carmen unhooked.
All Riley could do was watch until it was her turn to press her hands over Carmen’s IV site. He eases your pain. She replayed their last visit. She’d only focused on Carmen’s incredible attitude and Mark’s care for her. What had the woman seen?
The nurse signaled to Riley. “Have you done this before?”
Riley shook her head.
The nurse took in her size. “You might need to stand at first. Here.” Riley stood, and the nurse helped her position her hands over a gauze bandage, her stacked palms directly over the insertion site. Riley glimpsed deep bruising on Carmen’s arm. “Press very firmly here. You’ll feel her pulse.”
Riley nodded. “Feeling the pulse” was an understatement. No one could say Carmen didn’t have a strong heart.
“Keep the pressure steady. You’ll be able to ease up after about ten minutes, but just a little at a time. You’ll feel it. It takes about fifteen minutes for the veins to close. Got it?”
Riley nodded. The nurse removed the tubes and the IV, working around the pressure site.
Riley’s hands pulsed with the rhythmic flow of Carmen’s blood. Holy cow. This was important.
“Thank you for doing this,” Carmen said.
She pulled her gaze from her blue-gloved hands to Carmen. “You do this twice a week?” she said in wonder.
Carmen nodded. “And the rest of the week I get to live.”
“You’re set,” the nurse said. “If there’s a problem, push this button.” She pointed to a red “help” button on the machine.
It didn’t make Riley any less overwhelmed.
The nurse was about to go, when Carmen spoke up.
“Oh, Janet, this is Riley. Riley, this is Nurse Janet. All the nurses here are so nice. Janet, Riley’s an art teacher. She brought me her paintings to look at. Aren’t they wonderful?”
Janet looked at the painting Carmen held—a colorful street scene in downtown Denver. “It’s beautiful.”
Carmen pulled out another painting.
“Are these for sale?” Janet asked.
Riley’s brow rose. “I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Well,” Janet said, “let me know if you decide to sell. My sister would love that robin for Christmas.” She wrote her number on a pad of paper from her pocket, gave the note to Carmen, and left.
Carmen sighed and settled back into her chair. “I should be your sales rep. I’d work on commission.”
Riley laughed, then focused on her hands. “Is this okay?”
Carmen nodded, looking up at her like she had just handed her a dish of ice cream. “That’s perfect. Thank you so much.”
Riley studied her, noting the way the light from the window softened the lines around her eyes. There was something about her eyes. Like all the misery had burned away and let you see what was left. Carmen was fragile and pale, but she had that light in her eyes, a knowing of things.
A certainty.
Carmen shook her head. “I loved watching you with Mark. It’s still new, isn’t it?”
Riley smiled, but it felt like a lie. “Oh, we’re not—” The smile faded, and she swallowed. “What did you mean, he eases my pain?”
“We all carry pain. Those of us who’ve carried the most can recognize it in others. Maybe that’s why you see his. And perhaps because of his pain, he sees how to heal yours. You’re lucky to have found each other.”
Riley felt a lump in her throat. “It’s not like that . . . it can’t be. I’m going to teach art in New Orleans. Mark and I . . .” She looked out the window, not wanting to watch the delighted expectation in Carmen’s eyes turn to confusion. “I don’t think it’s good for anybody to rely on someone else to make them whole. It’s not fair.”
“Yes, I think that’s true.” Carmen said. “But are you talking about Mark? Or you?”
Riley looked back at Carmen and felt heat fill her cheeks. “Does it matter?”
Carmen smiled softly.
Riley lowered her gaze. “Mark can handle himself.” She adjusted her hands, taking care to keep the pressure steady. Her muscles burned, and she realized why Mark’s hand shook after this. “He’s stronger than he knows.”
She glanced up to find Carmen still watching her, the smile in her eyes dimmed.
“We don’t always have to be strong. It’s exhausting, isn’t
