“He’s conscious and talking, and the swelling on his head has reduced significantly. He’s not out of the woods, though, like I always tell you, Mac.”
“I know,” he replied, “I won’t be counting any chickens until he’s up and around for at least a week, just in case. I’m sorry you had to miss the funeral, honey.”
“Me too, and the other doctors here, as well. We didn’t think it should be postponed on our account. Our new mother needs to concentrate on her daughter now. How was it?”
“I don’t know,” Mac replied. “Okay, I guess. I’d never been to one before…for a child, I mean. It’s different for sure from a 90-year-old who lived their whole life and got to experience everything. Little Alex didn’t even get a single day. It sucks.”
“I know, and I’ve been to my fair share of both over the years,” Sarah replied. “All I can tell you is that God has a way of bringing little guys like Alex back up quickly. I don’t know why, but He must have other plans for him. As hard as it is, I trust that He does.”
“Yeah, I see your point. It still sucks, though. John said some nice words, so that helped… Hey, can we meet for dinner tonight?”
“Not tonight, Mac. I’m pulling an overnight shift to keep an eye on Drake. You could bring me dinner here to the hospital, though, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“No trouble at all,” he said excitedly, like every other time he got to see her. “Plus, I can check on Drake.”
“We’ll see how he’s doing then,” she replied.
“Okay. See you at 6:30 sharp. Oh, wait…have you told Samuel about our little?...”
“Yes, and I’ll tell you about it later.”
“Is he upset?”
“No, Mac. He’s fine, so tell your people and let’s be done with it. Now, can I get back to work?”
“Ah…sure, honey.”
“Love you, Mac.”
“Love you.”
* * * *
Mac spent the last hour of the afternoon talking with the MacDonalds and Whitney, telling them Drake was improving.
“We’ll have you back home in a day or two,” said Mac. “My guys are getting your home cleaned up, and the window should already be replaced.”
“How can we thank you?” asked Mrs. MacDonald.
“None needed. It’s what good neighbors do.”
“Come up and check on us every now and then, will you?” asked Willie.
Mac smiled as Whitney blushed.
“You may be seeing more of some of us than you bargained for,” he replied. “But yes, I’ll personally check on you, probably a few times a month.”
* * * *
Mac shuffled over to the Pavilion at 5 p.m. and found Chef Rico observing his crew, with the occasional hand gesture and every once in a while his hand over his face.
“Hey, Rico. Can I talk to you for a minute in private?”
“Sure, Mac. I always have a minute for you. Follow me,” he said, leading Mac into a private office.
“Oh, hello Patty,” said Mac. “I didn’t know you were up here tonight.”
“Yes, it’s my day off, and I brought Joshua up to learn some skills from a famous chef,” she said, elbowing Rico lightly in the ribs. “He’s quite famous, I’ll have you know.”
“Oh, I’ve heard!” Mac replied.
“I’ll let you two talk,” she said, turning to leave.
“Oh no, Patty. Please stay. I want you to hear this as well. I’m only telling a few people, including you two, John, Sharon, Bill and Cory about it… Sarah is pregnant!”
It sounded strange coming from his own mouth, but he couldn’t hide the smile that accompanied the statement.
Chef Rico only smiled.
“Is something wrong?” asked Mac.
“No, no. I was just thinking is all. Everything is just perfect. Congratulations to you both, and I guess no more wine pairing for a while!”
“I’m taking her dinner tonight,” said Mac. “What’s on the menu?”
“Excuse me, Mac, for just a minute. I have an idea,” said Rico, pulling Patty aside.
“Will you trust us with the menu for you and Sarah?” asked Patty.
“Sure! I always do, but I did tell her I would have it to her by 6:30. She’s at the hospital with Drake.”
“Meet us back here in one hour,” said Rico.
“Okay. Sounds good.”
* * * *
Mac spent the next hour telling the rest the good news. He knew John would need to tell the Council, and that would just save him time.
Everyone was told, and John and Bill already knew anyway when Sarah got sick talking with them. Cory was happy to be included, not having known Mac all that long.
An hour later, Mac was back in the kitchen, being handed a covered tray by a giggly Patty and Rico.
“If I didn’t know you two better, I would be worried you messed with the food.”
“One should never mess, as you say, with food,” said Rico. “Don’t look until you get to the hospital, and read the card to her first. Promise?”
“Yeah, okay. I promise. Thank you both.”
* * * *
Mac headed down the road with a surprise in the truck’s passenger seat, being careful not to spill the large tray of food.
He always had a knack for guessing a meal his mom would cook just as soon as he walked in the front door. It got to be a game of sorts, and she would try to trick him, she would say. But really, she just wanted him to come home for dinner!
This night Mac rattled off a litany of smells, starting with Pasta Alfredo and jumping over to what would be Patty’s “almost famous” smothered burritos he had only heard about from John.
Curry filled his nostrils and sweet meat. Wait a minute…one more second. Yes, something Indian maybe—curry chicken and Korean barbecue beef. “They better be South Korean is all I’m saying,” he said aloud.
He smiled as he smelled what could only be some of his fish, no doubt saved from the other day, and something sour he couldn’t put his finger on.
Sarah greeted him
