Stolen Things by R. H. Herron

Author:R. H. Herron
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2019-08-19T16:00:00+00:00

THIRTY

LAURIE ROUSED, UNCOMFORTABLE and stiff, in the hospital “lounge” chair. The room was still dark, the curtains closed, but sunlight filtered through the cracks. Her phone said it was almost ten in the morning. She’d missed two phone calls from Jojo—shit—but the only text said, On my way to see Dad, c u soon.

In the hall multiple alarms beeped, but in their small room there was only the sound of Omid’s heartbeat, being tracked along the darkened screen.

Omid’s eyes fluttered, the skin of his lids creased and thin. His face looked as if he’d aged ten years overnight, his crow’s-feet deeper, his lips flattened somehow.

Still handsome, though. She could still see the man she’d fallen in love with. Maybe that was the best part of marriage—knowing what your partner had been like in his so-called prime and holding that as now, forever, automatically.

“Hi,” she said as his brown eyes found hers.

“Hey.” His voice was a hoarse croak, barely above a whisper.

“How are you feeling?”

Omid rocked his head from side to side, slowly. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay.” Laurie took his hand. “You’re okay.”

It was true—the doctor said he came through with flying colors. The stent is in place, and he did great in surgery. Think of his body as a car. Sometimes you blow small things, like a tire, and other times you need a new catalytic converter. This was more like the latter, but you’ll get a lot more miles on this model with it in place.

“Why . . .” His voice trailed off, and his eyes darted to peer behind her, next to her. He swiveled his head. “. . . am I here?”

“You had another heart attack.” It sounded so simple said with so few words. It hadn’t been simple—she’d almost lost him, right there in front of her.

“Another?”

“You had a little one Friday night and another, bigger one yesterday. Do you remember?” Fear was a cold, sharp stick poking into her ribs.

He shook his head.

Oh, God. “What do you remember?”

He shut his eyes. “I remember . . . going to work?”

“Lucky guess. You go to work a lot.”

He smiled, his eyes still closed. “Am I going to be okay?”

“Yes,” she hoped out loud.

“Are you and Jojo okay?”

His voice was normal. Not that concerned. Like he was checking in on their general welfare, asking if they’d had a good day.

He didn’t remember.

Laurie didn’t know how to tell him.

“Yes.” They were okay, after all. Technically they were both in one piece.

“Where’s Joshi?”

“She’s at . . .” She almost said at the Cunninghams’. “She’s at home.”

He looked to the curtain. “It’s morning?”

“Yeah.”

“You stayed here all night?” He looked at the chair.

“You were in ICU after the surgery, so I waited there, mostly.” She couldn’t stay next to his bed for more than a few moments there, but she’d gotten to hold his hand and listen to his raspy breath. Then she’d slept a little, propped up in the ICU family room, ignoring the blaring of Judge Judy. If pressed, she’d

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