Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“Shit,” Harper mutters.
“Doctor,” the flight attendant says, “there will be an ambulance waiting for us when we get there.”
“Good.”
Ronald’s breathing has calmed down considerably, but he’s still sweaty, and his heartbeat is fast.
He’s nervous, and I can’t blame him. I would be, too.
“Are you married, Ronald?” Harper asks. She’s trying to distract him.
Smart girl.
“Forty-two years,” he says. “Six kids.”
“Six,” Harper says with a chuckle. “That’s a lot of kids. Boys? Girls?”
“All girls. All gorgeous.”
“I bet they are.” Harper’s humor-filled gaze finds mine, and she winks. “How old are they?”
“Oldest is forty. Youngest is twenty-nine.”
“Any grandbabies?”
“Three.” He nods. “Would be four, but one didn’t make it.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Harper says quietly.
“He had a heart defect when he was born. Spent a month in the NICU. Never got to come home.”
Harper nods sympathetically. “I work in the NICU. You’re my first adult patient in a long time.”
That gets a smile out of Ronald.
And me.
Christ, she’s fucking beautiful.
“I don’t envy your job,” Ronald says to Harper.
“Some days suck,” she admits. “Like on days when the babies like yours don’t make it. Can I tell you a secret?”
He nods, and she glances my way and raises an eyebrow.
“Your secret’s safe with us,” I reply, speaking for the first time in a while.
“Every time a baby passes when I’m on shift, I spend my lunch break in my car, crying. You’d think after five years of doing this job, it would get easier. But it doesn’t. But then there are the days when the babies go home, and that’s the best. It’s all about checks and balances, I guess.”
The plane lands, and everyone is asked to stay seated while we get Ronald off the plane and onto a stretcher. When he’s loaded into the ambulance, Harper glances my way, then grabs her bag and starts walking away.
“Hey,” I say, and she stops.
“Yeah?”
“Where are you going?”
She looks around and then back at me. “I’m going to figure out how to get home from here.”
I shake my head and hold my hand out for hers. “Come on. You’re with me.”
After just one second of hesitation, she slides her palm against mine, and I lead her away.