Софи Райан - Two Tall Tails

“Even with sardine breath, I really like you better than some people,” I said.

He gave me a wide-eyed stare as if to say, “Why wouldn’t you?”

That afternoon I called the hospital and found out that Angie was finally well enough to have visitors. After supper I went over to get Molly’s card. The little girl had copied the words “Feel Better” in purple marker on the front and drawn purple flowers on the rest of the page. Inside was a drawing of a smiling face with yellow pigtails and “Molly” carefully printed below it.

“That’s you,” I said, pointing at the face.

The four-year-old beamed at me. “That’s so she won’t feel lonesome.”

“No one could feel lonesome with a smile like that to look at,” I said.

Molly flung her arms around my legs, hugging them tightly. “And this is a hug for her.”

“I’ll give it to her,” I promised.

I got to the hospital about three the next afternoon. Angie’s room was on the second floor of Northeastern Medical Center. “Left, left and straight through the double doors.” I repeated the directions I’d been given at the patient information desk silently to myself as I got off the elevator.

Angie was sitting on the edge of her bed in pajamas and a rumpled hospital robe, her left arm in a sling when I tapped on her door. Her face lit up when she saw me.

“Oh, Sarah, it’s so good to see a familiar face,” she said. “I was just sitting here trying to figure out if I could tie the sheets together and rappel down to the parking lot.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner,” I said. “Tom and Katie say hello and Molly made you this.” I handed over the card.

Katie had slipped it into a large brown envelope. Angie pulled out the folded sheet of construction paper and smiled. “She made this all by herself?”

I nodded. “That’s a self-portrait inside so you won’t feel lonesome.”

Angie looked at Molly’s drawing. “It looks like her,” she said. “Do you think Katie and Matt would let me give her art lessons for her birthday?”

“Maybe you could start with some art supplies,” I suggested.

I set a china cup and saucer down on the tray table next to the professor’s bed. It held a small green and white Haworthia plant. We sold the tiny arrangements at Second Chance, and they seemed more like Angie’s style than an arranged bouquet of flowers.

“Sarah, that’s beautiful,” Angie said, turning the saucer in a slow circle on the table.

“I’m glad you like it,” I said. “Oh, and I almost forgot.” I leaned over, careful to avoid Angie’s injured arm and gave her a sideways hug. “That’s from Molly, too.”

“Better than any medicine,” she declared. Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid and I could see the edge of a bandage peeking out of the neck of her pajamas.

“How does your shoulder feel?” I asked.

“Pretty good, actually,” Angie said. She gestured at my splinted left hand. “How’s therapy going?”

“Not as fast as I’d like,” I said. “But it’s been suggested that I’m a little impatient.” I looked around the small room. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

Angie nodded. “Please. Or I really might start tearing up the sheets.”

We headed down the hallway together and Angie explained the surgery that had repaired her broken clavicle. A nurse in lavender teddy bear scrubs passed us, smiling at Angie.

She caught the woman’s arm. “Could I go outside to the garden?” she asked.

“I’ll stay with her,” I offered.

“All right,” the nurse said. “But don’t overdo it.”

“I won’t,” Angie said. “Thank you.”

The garden was a small outside terrace at the end of the hall, with benches and raised planters. Angie turned her face up to the afternoon sun and sighed happily. “It feels so good to be outside.”

I steered her over to a bench, mindful of the nurse’s admonition not to overdo.

“I’m so glad you came,” Angie said, pulling the wrinkled blue robe a little tighter around her. “You’re my first visitor since the surgery.”

Jason hadn’t been to see his aunt, I realized, even though family had been permitted to visit Angie from the beginning.

“Tell me what I’ve been missing,” she urged.

I told her about Elvis having dispatched the vole that liked to eat Tom’s flower bulbs and how I’d used peanut butter to get the burdocks out of his fur. I didn’t say anything about Jason’s interactions with Tom and Katie. There was nothing the professor could do, and I didn’t want her to worry.

“I hope I can come home in a couple of days,” Angie said, shifting on the bench. I noticed her wince and guessed that the shoulder was a bit more painful than she was letting on. “Jason is between jobs at the moment so he’s offered to stay and help me for a while.”

My heart sank. I hoped my face didn’t give my feelings away. “Are you going to have the carpet taken off the stairs?” I asked.

Angie nodded. “Jason is going to do that for me. I don’t have a lot of faith in that installer. He was supposed to have fixed that loose edge but I think he just made things worse. Not only was that section still loose but Jason said there was a small nail that hadn’t been hammered in all the way.”

Katie had said that the carpeting on the stairs had looked fine to her. Could she have been mistaken or . . .

“Jason thinks I should sue,” Angie was saying. “But I have to take some of the blame.”

I frowned. “What makes you say that?”

The professor gave me a wry smile. “I was so sleepy that night I could barely keep my eyes open. Jason and I were having tea and I almost dozed off there at the table. I was on my way up to bed when I caught my foot on that loose piece of carpet. Maybe if I hadn’t let myself get so overtired, I might not have lost my balance.”

“It’s good that Jason was there,” I said. Even though the sun was warm on my head and shoulders, I gave an involuntary shiver.

Angie nodded, her hand going to her injured shoulder. “I know Jason can be”—she shrugged—“well, a bit of a jerk sometimes. He’s just like my brother James. But I don’t want to think what could have happened if he hadn’t been around to call 911.” She ducked her head and studied her hands for a moment. “I feel a bit guilty.”

“What about?”

Angie looked up at me then. “I had been planning on amending my will and leaving less of my estate to Jason because he’d never really seemed that interested in staying in touch. But then he stepped up after the accident and he offered to stay for a while to help out. So I decided to leave things the way they were.” She shrugged. “I guess you can’t always tell what people are capable of.”

I had a sinking feeling I knew exactly what Jason Bates was capable of.

When I got home, I half expected to find Elvis sitting on the veranda railing, but there was no sign of the cat. Liz had offered to bring Rose and Elvis home, and I realized he was probably in Rose’s apartment.

She was feeding me again and I hated to show up empty handed so I went to the front of the house to cut the last of the narcissus, arranging the stems in a mason jar of water and tying a length of wide green paper ribbon in a bow around the neck. I was about to head for Rose’s apartment when I heard shouting from outside.

I went out into the hallway. Rose was standing in her doorway, a yellow-flowered apron tied at her waist. Elvis was at her feet. “What’s going on?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t know.” I opened the front door.

We heard a shout. “Help! Somebody help!”

“That’s Tom,” Rose said.

I bolted across the grass, through the gap in the hedge, into the Tom’s backyard. He was crouched on the lawn, leaning over Matilda. The little corgi seemed to be having a seizure.