“I don’t think I can eat any more,” she whispered.
“Sure you can,” Lacy said. “Try a cracker or the drink.”
“The drink looks disgusting.”
Lacy’s lips twitched, but she didn’t allow a smile to form. “It actually tastes okay. Give it a try.”
Annie took a tiny swallow and nearly gagged on that, too.
“Good,” Lacy said, as if she hadn’t nearly choked to death. “Now the cracker.”
It went on like that, bite by tiny bite, sip by sip, until the half hour had passed. Annie looked at the tray and saw that she’d managed only one cracker and not even half the salad. She risked a look at Lacy, expecting to see disappointment, but instead the nutritionist gave her an encouraging smile.
“Not bad for the first time. I’ll get you that energy shake I told you about to make up for the food you didn’t finish.”
Annie felt tears well up in her eyes again. “I have to drink a whole shake? I can’t.”
“Not a whole one. Just two ounces. You can do that in a couple of swallows. Remember what I said about treating it like medicine. Just drink it right down and you’ll be finished until it’s time for your snack.”
“More food?” Annie said, sagging back against the pillows. She had no idea when eating had become such excruciating torture.
“It won’t be so bad,” Lacy promised. “Just half of a banana. Bananas were on that list you gave me.”
Only because Annie had been coerced into writing down something or leaving the decisions to Lacy. At least making that list had given her a tiny sense that she was still in control of things.
“You won’t sit with me for that, will you?” she asked hopefully.
“I won’t,” Lacy said. “But someone will.”
“Oh,” Annie said, her voice flat. “Nobody trusts me, huh?”
“Should we?”
“I guess not,” she conceded grudgingly. Because she and Lacy both knew that at the first opportunity, she would flush all that food right down the toilet.
* * *
Ronnie was impressed with Sullivan’s. The restaurant was cozy and inviting. It was elegant without being pretentious, and judging from the fancy specials board posted by the hostess station, it had a diverse menu of items that would appeal to the locals, while still expanding their culinary tastes. Of course, he was so sick of hospital-cafeteria food by now that anything would have seemed gourmet caliber by comparison.
“You going to feed me, darlin’, or wait for me to beg?” he inquired as Dana Sue dug into a slice of deep-dish apple pie that made his mouth water.
“We’re not open yet,” she said with grim finality, forking another bite of pie into her mouth.
“Not even for family?”
“You are not family.”
“I’m the father of your daughter and the best husband you ever had,” he stated.
“You’re the only husband I ever had, more’s the pity,” she retorted.
After what seemed like an endless, silent stalemate, during which Ronnie just bided his time, she finally met his gaze. “You’re not going away, are you?”
“Not till I’m fed,” he agreed cheerfully, ignoring the fascinated glances the woman working at the stove was casting his way. He figured she could be won over to his side with a little charm. He was a bit more concerned by the stiff posture of the guy who was sticking so darn close to Dana Sue that Ronnie couldn’t help wondering if there was more between them than a working relationship.
“Fine.” Dana Sue flounced off her stool and marched past him. “Bring him the meat loaf special,” she called over her shoulder. Then added, “In a take-out box. We’ll wait out front.”
Ronnie grinned. “You think my dining here will take away from the class of the place?”
“No, but I do think it will fuel the gossip already flying around town,” she said. “Frankly, I don’t need the aggravation. Besides, we need to get back to the hospital. Annie is your top priority, right?”
There was no mistaking the challenge in her expression. “Of course,” he said. “I called to check on her right before I came here. The nurse said she was finishing her first meal under the supervision of the nutritionist. She said to come back around six-thirty.” He glanced pointedly at his watch. “It’s barely five-thirty now.”
“I want to go back now,” Dana Sue said stubbornly.
“Then by all means, we’ll go now,” he said, amusement threading through his voice. “You taking your own car, or can I give you a lift?”
He saw her warring with herself over the absurdity of both of them driving, when they’d be coming back to places less than a mile apart.
“I’ll drive,” she said at last. “You can eat your dinner in the car.”
“Still have to control things, don’t you, sugar?”
She shrugged. “Pretty much. Last time I let loose and trusted someone else, I got burned.”
The barb struck home. “Shouldn’t you be over that by now?” he asked.
She skewered him with a gaze that could have pierced steel. “Just FYI, Ronnie, women don’t get over a thing like that. They suit up in body armor and move on.”
He nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.” When Erik came out of the kitchen with the take-out box, Ronnie accepted it. “How much?”
“This one’s on the house,” Dana Sue said tersely. “Now let’s go.”
“Before you introduce me to your friend?” He already knew Erik’s name from Annie’s adoring description of the man, as well as the glimpse he’d caught of him at the hospital, hanging out with Dana Sue in the waiting room and again outside.
“Oh, he knows exactly who you are,” she said, in a way that suggested Ronnie ought to check the dinner for arsenic. “I suspect the gossip was quite specific in its description.” She glanced at Erik for confirmation.
He nodded, then gave Ronnie a man-to-man, vaguely commiserating look. “I’m Erik Whitney, Dana Sue’s pastry chef and second in command around here.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ronnie said, relieved that the introduction hadn’t included anything that suggested the relationship was personal.
“I’m also her friend,” Erik added pointedly. “We
