Page 97 of The Lonely Road

Joy whips around to face Mac, her hands on her hips. “I heard that.”

“You were meant to.”

Shortly after, Mac argues with the nurse about whether a single concussion mandates twenty-four hours or is merely a guideline open to interpretation.

The nurse wins by walking out mid-argument, which is the correct approach with Mac, as we all agree—loudly.

Mac is unimpressed.

I sit in the chair beside his bed and hold his hand and feel—underneath the fear and the anger and the steady professional assessment of what needs to happen next—the quality of being held by people.

I’m not alone in this.

I look at Mason in the doorway.

He’s watching me. Not with the operational attention—the other kind, which doesn’t have a name.

It’s nice, I think, not for the first time today—having him here, despite his reaction to me telling him what I hold true.

After the nurse shoos us all away, and with a twinkle in her eyes, says it’s because Mac needs a sponge bath.

“Fuck no!” Mac cries out.

We all walk out laughing as we hear him quarrel with the nurse, who is enjoying herself.

Mason drives me home. I let him because I don’t have the energy for it.

I lean my head back against the seat and look out the window at the canyon walls going gold in the late afternoon.

“You need help setting up at Mav’s?” he asks.

“I can handle it.” I close my eyes. “You don’t have to help me clean up the office.”

“I know I don’t.”

I open my eyes and glance at him. The side of his face. His jaw is clenched like he’s holding on tight to something.

“Thank you.” I put a hand on his, which is resting on the gear shift. “For today. For driving. For—” I stop. “For being there.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment.

“I’m good at being useful in a crisis.” He turns his hand and tangles his fingers with mine once before letting go so he can change gears. “It’s the in-between parts I’m less reliable on.”

It’s more honesty than I expected.

“My ex-wife used to say that.”

I give him my full attention.

“She used to say I’m competent and not present.”

All I can think is that he was married.

With whom?

For how long?

What happened?