Free Heroes (Hollywood Heartthrobs #1) by Kate Rivers Page B

this time. Damn, his little brother could be terribly
perceptive.
    Nate
placed the last plate in the dishwasher and smiled. “Good then. I think it’s
the talking dog show on next. Wouldn’t want to miss it.”
    The
morning passed slowly and joyfully. The boys seemed to have forgotten all about
the horrors of yesterday, and were happy to have all three adults home to
entertain. Nate had said kids were resilient, but Dean was amazed. Nathan and
Samantha were holding it all together, although Dean noticed they both seemed
to touch the boys constantly, as though reassuring themselves both were real
and whole. Dean could relate. Seeing Samantha and Nathan on the couch with both
boys between them, he felt an oddly pleasant ache in his heart. It was good to
have something, or in this case several somethings, you love so much it
terrifies you, he thought.
    By
early afternoon, his thoughts were drifting back to the city. He kept seeing
Jane’s face, but not as he had expected. He wasn’t seeing her in the desperate
heartbeats before the truck, or later when she laid unconscious in the bed. He
kept seeing her smiling at him with her dimples and green eyes. The nurse last
night (had it really only been last night?) had said a neurologist would see
her today. He wanted to know what had happened. He looked up the number to the
hospital online, and twice started to call before hanging up. What could he
say? Hey, I’m the guy that put one of your patients in there, just wondering
how she’s feeling now. Ridiculous.
    Dean
broke at about 3pm. The boys were playing on the swing set under Samantha’s
watchful eye, and Nate had asked him for help with the gutters. Nate was
halfway up a ladder and dumping damp leaves onto the ground. Dean held the
ladder, but his thoughts were miles away.
    “Nate,
when we’re through here, I think I might hop in the shower then run a quick
errand,” he said, finally, in what he hoped was an adequately offhand voice.
    Nate
didn’t bother looking down. “Something you need?”
    “Actually
I thought I’d run into the city for a minute.”
    This
time Nate stopped to look down at his brother. “What’s in the city?”
    Dean
looked off to the hydrangea bushes. In a sense, lying convincingly was part of
his job, and he was usually good at it. Nate, however, was a special case. “I
thought I’d swing by the hospital from yesterday, check on how the girl is.”
    There
was no need to specify which girl. Nate chose not to pursue it. He turned back
to the gutters. “Be home for dinner?” 
    “Sure
thing.”
    “Good,
then pick up two large Hawaiian pizzas on your way.”
    Twenty
minutes later Dean was on the highway back to the heart of Chicago. Parking in
the large ramp across the street from the hospital, he noticed a flower shop on
the same block. He couldn’t help but think it was a winning business model, and
he stopped for something called a sunshine bouquet. It was a small, bright
arrangement, mostly yellows with a few dashes of pink. Buyer’s remorse seized
him the second he stepped into the hospital lobby. Really Dean? He asked
himself. Flowers? What is this, 1959? Maybe it was just returning to the
hospital, but all his comingled doubt and confidence of the previous night
returned in a rush.
    He
couldn’t have named which room Jane was in, but he was able to retrace his
steps from the previous night easily. The door was open, but he rapped gently
on it, more to announce his presence than to ask to enter. The room looked so
different in the daylight. The window faced west, and afternoon sun streamed in
through the thin curtains, giving the otherwise cold and clinical room a warm,
homey atmosphere. Dean, however, noticed nothing about the lighting. He was
struck dumb by the sight of Jane. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed with
the blanket draped gently over her long, slender legs. Her left arm,
immobilized last night, was now merely in a cast. A cheery pink sling held it
against her