Carol Ross - If Not For A Bee

Aidan shook his head. “Not as far as I’m concerned.”

Tag laughed. “I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

“My fingers, they’re going to be—”

“Don’t worry. Dr. Grady is on today and he’s great. I’ve never seen a doctor who can sew better. It’ll barely even scar.”

Aidan watched as Tag wrapped his fingers in a length of soft white gauze. The blood seeped through and Tag kept wrapping. Aidan thought about the repercussions of an injured hand, but scars were the least of his concerns.

Emily examined Tag’s handiwork. “Aidan, what will you do? How are you going to work?”

“I’ll manage. They’re just lacerations, Em—they’ll heal.” Leave it to Emily to voice his concerns.

“But your boxes are arriving tomorrow, right?”

“That’s right,” Bering said as he began transferring clams into a cooler. “Your stuff. Don’t worry, we’ll help.”

Bering turned to address Janie, who had been hanging back silently. Aidan wondered what she was thinking. “Can I borrow the boys in the morning? To give Aidan a hand?”

“Yes, of course.”

Tag closed his first-aid kit and stood. “Hop in my pickup, Aidan. We need to get you to the hospital.”

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