Page 108 of Rigid

Confused, I blinked and then glanced around the room. Sandy’s crying woke me from a moment’s sleep. I pulled her into my chest and held her tight. Her pain, just as Eddie’s had, became mine.

I swept her hair from her face and looked her in the eyes. “Don’t cry. She’ll wake up soon.”

“Five minutes,” she said through the tears. “If I could have just got there five minutes earlier.”

I traced my fingers along the outline of her jaw. “Shhh. I’m proud of you, baby. You saved her life.”

She bit into her lip and nodded an ever so slight repeated nod. Then, her eyes fell closed.

Mine soon followed.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

THIRTY-THREE

Sandy

Eddie wasn’t my child, but after what I’d been through, I certainly looked at her no differently than if she were. I’d come to realize in the 36 hours following the events of that night that I wasn’t falling in love with Smokey, I loved him.

It may have been slight, and over time I was sure that it might grow, but it was love. I was sure of it.

Everything I wanted in a man, he possessed. It was seeing him as a caring father, however, that seemed to cause me to realize that my love for him was real.

The fact that he was kind, passionate, caring, sexy, humorous, and intelligent mattered, but they were not all that mattered. His ability to be an outstanding father was much more important than any of his other qualities.

Smokey folded his arms over his chest. “Let me ask you a question, Doc.”

The doctor, man in his early forties, and not the doctor from the previous day, let out a sigh.

Smokey shot him a shitty look. “You bored, Doc?”

“No.” He glanced at his watch and then looked up. “You had a question?”

Smokey’s eyes narrowed. “You need to be somewhere?”

“I’ve got…I have several patients that I need to--”

Smokey motioned to the loveseat with his eyes. “Have a seat Doc.” He looked at me. “Shut the door, Sandy.”

Oh shit.

“I really…I need to--” the doctor stammered.

I pushed the door closed and walked back into the room.

“Have a seat, Doc,” Smokey said in a stern tone.

Nervously, the doctor sat down.

Smokey dropped his voice to a calm tone. “Talk to me, Doc. Do you have kids?”

“I do.”

“If this was your daughter, what would you do?”