“Sherlock used to fetch the ball a lot and run beside me, carrying a stick.” Earl grinned and tapped his forehead. “Now our minds want to play, and our bodies tell us no. Sherlock will nose a tennis ball around the house. Be sure to tell Teresa that.”
Brooke glanced at Dan. A smile wavered across her face, dancing through her gaze, before she turned toward Earl. “We were early so Sherlock and I ordered broccoli-cheddar soup and cookies. Then retreated to the last table on the patio. The one tucked behind the planters that hides the patrons but grants an excellent view to people watch.”
“Sherlock enjoys sitting at the park bench and watching the world pass by almost as much as his walks.” Earl dropped back on his pillow and eyed Brooke. “You’ll need to remember to pass that along, too.”
Brooke never reacted. Dan barely refrained from nodding himself. Only then did he realize that Earl hadn’t actually given his permission to Teresa Knowles. He’d said “if he gave his permission” earlier. Clearly Brooke had caught on to that one key phrase much sooner than Dan.
“Teresa arrived. She brought treats for Sherlock,” Brooke said. “The dog biscuits were homemade by one of her kitchen staff who bakes for her own dogs. I’ve already requested the recipe for myself. Ben and I plan to make them together for the dogs.”
That phrase Dan caught. His son and Brooke had plans. Future plans. But Dan and Brooke hadn’t discussed her future plans. Or made plans for themselves. She’d mentioned that her in-laws had found her a rental home up north. She was waiting on availability. Dan studied her profile. Could she be waiting on something else? Or someone else? Specifically, Dan. But discussing the future was significant. It transformed whatever was between them into something much more serious.
Dan was already committed to Ben. How could he help Ben flourish, if he was committed to something else? To someone else. To Brooke. What if he failed them both?
Earl rubbed his chin. “Did Sherlock like the biscuits as much as your treats?”
“I think even more.” Brooke shook her head as if disappointed. Yet the delight was there in her tone.
Would she be disappointed or delighted when she moved up north? Dan refused to consider what he’d be. He stretched in the chair. When had the hospital chairs become so hard and uncomfortable?
“You should definitely get that recipe.” Earl smoothed his finger over the tape covering his IV port. “Always good to give the dogs options.”
“I like to think so,” Brooke said. “Sherlock sat between Teresa and I while we ate. He edged closer and closer to Teresa throughout the meal and finally put his head on her lap.”
Dan figured the dog wanted a second biscuit. If the biscuits were that good, who could blame him?
“But she hadn’t given him the biscuit yet,” Earl mused.
“No, we saved those for the end of lunch.” Brooke grinned. “I think Sherlock sensed her loneliness. Teresa became a widow less than a year ago.”
“Sherlock always had a keen sense of emotions.” Pride was there in Earl’s gravelly voice. “Always right beside me before I knew I needed him.”
Like Brooke. She’d been right beside Dan, starting with Valerie’s unexpected arrival. She’d been there even when Dan hadn’t known he’d needed her. What was he supposed to do when she wasn’t there? When she returned north to her own life? He rolled his shoulders as if that would smooth the uneasiness away.
“Teresa welcomed his attention and lavished Sherlock with her own affection,” Brooke said.
“Do you think they bonded?” Earl asked.
Brooke nodded. “Even better, I think they understood each other.”
“Looks like I’m moving out of here and into Bright Heart Sanctuary.” Earl adjusted the pillow behind his head. A peaceful smile overtook his weathered face. “And Sherlock is moving, too.”
“Then you’re going to give Teresa your permission to take Sherlock home?” Brooke stood up and sat on the side of Earl’s bed.
“I’ll call Cara and tell her as soon as you leave,” Earl said.
“I know this is hard.” Brooke wrapped Earl’s hand inside hers. “But it really is for the best.”
What was for the best with Brooke? To stay in the city or leave. If she stayed in the city, would she expect more from Dan than he could give? She had her once-in-a-lifetime love. Surely, she wasn’t looking for that again. But she deserved that, didn’t she? Dan rubbed his chest and moved the chairs back against the wall.
“It’s easier now that Sherlock has a special place to spend the rest of his days, too,” Earl said.
“And Teresa told me she’d bring you pictures of Sherlock.” Brooke patted Earl’s hand.
“Don’t be telling anyone on account that you might get Teresa in trouble.” Earl checked the doorway, then motioned Brooke closer. “But Teresa promised me that she’d bring Sherlock to work and let him visit me.”
“That’s wonderful.” Brooke’s voice sounded watery.
Like she swallowed her tears. Would she cry when she left the city? Would she cry when she said goodbye to Dan? Would he? No. After all, they weren’t anything like that. He cleared his throat.
Earl set his other hand on top of Brooke’s. “I’ll be expecting to see you now and again, too.”
Dan wanted to see Brooke more than now and again.
“You can count on it.” Brooke hugged Earl and wished him a good-night.
Could Dan count on Brooke to stay? Dan pushed his errant thoughts away and shook Earl’s hand, promising to stop in to see Earl after his shift ended in the morning. That was something he could count on: his job.
“Remember, it’s black coffee,” Earl called out. “No sugar and none of those fancy flavored creams.”
“Got it.” Dan grinned. “Still want the fancy-shaped pastry?”
“The one with the cinnamon-apple filling?” Earl’s eyebrows lifted, widening his eyes.
“That’s the one,” Dan said.
“Have to admit, I’d like to sample that one again.” Earl patted his stomach.
“See you tomorrow,” Dan said. “For another sample.”
An elevator ride later, Dan walked outside the hospital and touched his stomach. “Talking about apple turnovers made me hungry. That and the success with Earl and Sherlock.”
“I’m not sure there’s anything that doesn’t make you hungry.” Brooke bumped into him, laughter in her tone.
“Liver pâté,” Dan said.
“Excuse me.”
“I don’t like liver pâté.” Dan shuddered, drawing her laughter and his own smile. “Looking at it reminds me of cat food. Tasting it ruins my appetite.”
“That is very good information to have.”
Brooke’s joy surrounded him. He wanted more time with her like this. “Almost sunset and that means suppertime.”
Brooke bit the corner of her lip and looked at him. “How hungry are you?”
“You just told me that I’m always hungry.”
She shifted, set her hand on his chest and stopped him. “Can you maybe wait to eat until after sunset?”
“Maybe.” Dan forgot about eating. He wanted to wrap his arm around her waist and draw her closer. He wanted to feel more than her hand on his chest. “What do you have in mind?”
“We’re less than four blocks away from the Lyon Street Steps.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Her fingers tensed on his chest. She blinked, dropped her hand and rushed on, “If we hurry, we can climb the stairs before the sun goes down.”
Dan wanted to say no. He had a good life with Ben. She’d had the perfect marriage. What could they give each other? They lived in different worlds—he liked the fast-paced city, she preferred the mountains. He had a son. She had her animals. She made him better. He made her... “There’s over 275 stairs.”
“That are perfect for working up a reall
y good appetite.” Her plea was wrapped inside her encouraging voice.
Dan set his hands on his hips, rather than on her waist. “You’re serious?”
“It’s one of my favorite places in the city.” Brooke blushed with her confession. Her enthusiasm dimmed, lowering her voice. “I haven’t been up there since before my marriage. Phillip and I always talked about hiking the stairs to watch the sunset, but we never did. Something always came up. Usually work meetings or after-hours business calls.”
Dan could give her this. A new memory in the city. With him. He held out his hand. “Let’s start climbing.”
“Really?” Excitement rushed through her voice.
Absolutely. When she left the city, she’d have this moment to take with her.
Four blocks and 188 stairs later, Dan stopped counting, content to follow Brooke and listen to her commentary about the possible owners of the mansions lining either side of the stairs. Her speculation on how many generations of the same family roamed the manicured lawns. The history of weddings and birthdays celebrated on the extensive patios. The tiered garden fountains and wrought-iron benches keeping their own secrets.
Dan had his own secrets. His own wishes. Impractical. Impossible. That was the problem with matters of the heart.
Yet at the top of the stairs, the sun burned the sky and greeted the evening. Maybe it was the sunset casting the city in a golden haze. Or maybe it was the glint of gold in Brooke’s gaze. Or the awe in her face. Or the pure joy in her touch.
She took his hand. He pulled her to him.
And somewhere inside that sunset, their lips found each other. Their hearts connected.
Seconds slowed the minutes as if even time recognized the significance.
Dan held on to Brooke and the happiness inside him.
And for that instance, he believed in magic. In wishes. And the impossible.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
TWO NIGHTS AGO, Brooke had shared a heart-flipping, butterfly-inducing kiss with Dan. After she’d made a positive difference in Earl Powell’s life. She’d accomplished something with Earl and Sherlock that gave her satisfaction. Her therapist would commend her for rejoining the world.
Her feet were back underneath her. The ground more stable. She couldn’t have gotten there without Dan. He’d helped her rediscover her confidence—a confidence that allowed her to enjoy life again. A confidence that allowed her to hope.
Brooke opened the jewelry box and unwrapped another angel. The Hope angel held a dove, its wings spread and ready to fly. Her phone rang in her pocket. She set the Hope angel next to the Joy one.
She answered her phone, hoped it was Dan, calling to tell her he’d gotten the night off.
“Brooke.” A weak voice drifted across the phone line.
Concern replaced her disappointment. “Ben. What’s wrong?”
“Can you come. And get me?” His plea was disjointed, as if he spoke through tears he refused to shed.
Brooke switched the phone to her other ear and forced herself to listen through the rush of blood in her head. “Where are you?”
“The movie theater in the Bay District.” He hiccupped.
“Where’s Valerie?” Brooke tugged on her boots. Grabbed her jacket. Searched for her purse.
“Watchin’ the movie.” Ben’s voice drifted. The connection scratchy, as if he was moving. “Brooke. I don’t feel so good.”
His words lodged like a knife between her ribs. “When did you last check your numbers?”
“I don’t know.”
The silence twisted the knife, drove it deeper. “When did you eat last?”
“I don’t know.” More shuffling. More static. His voice more diluted. “Valerie said we could eat after the movie.”
Brooke rushed outside, slammed her front door and raced through the side gate.
“Brooke?”
“I’m here. Ben. I’m here.” Brooke scanned the empty street. Taxis wouldn’t wait on this street. She had to go to the city center. Into the traffic. That was the only way to get to Ben.
“Brooke.” He whispered, “I’m scared.”
The crack in his voice clipped her knees as if she’d face-planted into the cement. “I’m coming. Ben. I’m coming.”
“Okay.”
“Ben!”
Silence. She stared at her phone. The screen went blank. The call ended.
Brooke ran. Waved her arms for a cab. Ran another block. Shouted and lunged into a cab before it stopped. She clicked on Dan’s name in her contact list. Clutched her phone.
Chanted, Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.
Voice mail picked up. Dan’s recorded voice greeted her.
On the third attempt, she hung up before the voice mail greeting and called Nichole. Asked her to meet her at the movie theater.
Sprinting into the theater, Brooke dialed Rick. He’d gone back up north to help with the fire recovery. Rick picked up on the second ring. Brooke’s words tumbled into the speaker.
“Brooke.” Rick’s steady voice swirled around her. “Slow. Down. Breathe.”
Brooke explained the situation and scanned the movie-theater lobby. She found the familiar redhead sitting on the floor outside the arcade. Brooke raced across the checkered carpet and skidded onto the floor beside Ben.
“You came.” Ben collapsed toward her.
She dropped her phone to catch Ben. “We have to check your numbers.”
“Valerie went to get my stuff from the car.” Sweat matted his hair against his forehead.
Brooke scanned the lobby. Where was she? How could Valerie leave Ben like this? What had Brooke done leaving Ben with her? Brooke drew Ben closer.
Valerie hurried inside and rushed over to them. Her eyes wide. Her bright lipstick worn to a pale smear.
Brooke grabbed the backpack and dug through it, searching for the kit Rick told her Ben always carried. She unzipped the leather superhero bag, set the meter beside her, kept the syringes at hand.
“You’re doing that here?” Valerie set her hands in her coat pockets and rocked back on her booted heels. Her lipstick completely gone, her lips colorless. “Right now?”
Brooke muffled her shriek. Wanted to scream at the woman to get over it. But she didn’t have time to waste on Valerie. Her reply was no less bitter. No less curt. “Yes. Right now.”
“I’ll go wait outside for Nichole.” Valerie held up her hands toward the main entrance and backed away. “Ben told me they were coming.”
Brooke shooed the woman away.
“It’s not her fault. She really doesn’t like needles. They make her sick.” Ben rubbed his nose. “Her face is green, like moldy broccoli.”
That wasn’t Brooke’s problem. Or her concern. This was all Brooke’s fault, anyway. She’d wanted to believe in Valerie. She handed Ben the lancet and vial of test strips, and her fingers shook. “Can you do this part?”
“You don’t like needles, either?” Ben eyed her. His skin too gray.
“I don’t like seeing you hurting.” He wouldn’t be sick and hurting if she’d listened to Dan. If she’d trusted Dan to know what was best for his own son. If she hadn’t meddled, where she wasn’t invited. This wasn’t the harmony she’d wanted for Dan and Ben.
“It’s gonna be okay.” Ben scooted into her side. “You know why?”
Brooke watched him. Wanted to believe. Wanted his confidence.
“Because you’re here.” Ben pricked his finger. “Now I won’t have to go to the hospital.”
Brooke wrapped her arm around his shoulders and Ben walked her through the process: where to put the test strip, how the unit powered on with the test strip inserted, where the batteries went and where the extras were.
Wesley sprinted toward them and plopped down on Ben’s other side.
Brooke tossed her cell
phone to Nichole. “Can you call Rick back?”
Brooke called out the readings. Nichole repeated the numbers to Rick and listened for his instructions. Nichole ordered Valerie, still hovering in the periphery, to buy a soda and pretzels from the concession stand. Brooke ordered the woman to hurry up.
Brooke set her alarm on her phone for a ten-minute recheck. Another test strip. Another reading. Still too low. Rick added a granola bar and cookies to the concession purchases.
After thirty minutes, which felt like days later, Brooke stuffed the superhero kit into Ben’s backpack, helped Ben stand and repeated Rick’s instructions about a small balanced meal for Ben. She hugged Ben’s backpack in one arm and held Ben’s hand with her other.
Outside the movie theater, Brooke confronted Valerie. “I’m taking Ben home with me. Dan will want to see him as soon as he can.”
“Thanks.” Valerie nodded and buttoned her fitted jacket as if putting herself back together. As if she’d been the one suffering a health scare. Then hugged Brooke, tightly like a dear friend.
Valerie released Brooke and squeezed Ben’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re better.”
Ben wrinkled his nose. “Sorry about the movie.”
Brooke glared at the sidewalk, frustration rolling through her, her love for the sweet boy soaring. Valerie should be apologizing to her son.
“We’ll watch it another time.” Valerie waved to Nichole and Wesley, then walked away.
The foursome headed to the parking garage and climbed into Nichole’s car. The boys played a video game in the back seat, their heads together. Suggestions for moves and cheers over better levels filtered out.
At a red light, Nichole took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. Exhaustion leaked into her voice. “I don’t know how Dan does it. Working nights. Volunteering for everything. And keeping up with Ben’s diabetes.”
“He loves Ben and what he does.” Brooke glanced over the seat at Ben. His color was returning. His hair no longer damp.
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