“Daddy has a new truck. Jack, did you hear that?” my mother tells him, and he just nods his head.
“Is it purple?” Jack asks me, and I shake my head. “Yellow?”
“Nope,” I tell him, and then Denise cuts in.
“I’m going to go get my things together and meet you guys downstairs,” she says, smiling, then leans in. “What kind of truck? So I don’t get into some random one.”
“Gray Range Rover,” I whisper to her.
“Fancy,” she jokes and walks out. I watch her walk to the nurses’ desk to grab a couple of charts and write in them quickly. She smiles at Mallory and then walks toward the hallways.
“I’m ready, Dad,” Jack says, and he gets off the bed. “Is Dr. Denise coming with us?”
“Yes, she is going to meet us downstairs,” I tell him, and my mother packs his iPad in the bag and zips it up.
“We need to say bye to the nurses,” Mom says, and we walk out, saying bye to Mallory, who asks Jack for a hug.
“Bye, Jumping Jack.” She kisses his head. “See you soon.”
“See you soon,” he says and then turns to walk to me. We take the elevator down to the entrance and walk outside where Marco meets us. “Is that it?” Jack points at the four-door gray Range Rover parked in front.
“That’s it,” I tell him, and then Marco comes over to us.
“Here you go, sir.” He hands me the keys. “I filled up the tank and all the paperwork is in the folder in the backseat.”
“Thank you, Marco,” I tell him, and he goes to a waiting cab.
“You really can do everything on that phone.” I hear from behind me and turn to see Denise standing there with her beige jacket on.
“Dr. Denise, look at Dad’s new car,” Jack says.
“I saw. Isn’t it the coolest?” she says, walking to us. Walking to the back door, I open it and see Jack’s seat.
“Come on, buddy,” I tell him. He walks up to the car, and I pick him up, and Denise walks around the car, getting in the backseat with him.
I look over at her, and she smiles at me. “I love the new car smell.” My mother climbs in the front seat, and I get in and take us all back to the brownstone. The parking is beyond crazy, and after circling the block four times, I drop them off at the door and continue searching. It takes a totally of eight times going around for me to finally park.
I walk into the house, tossing my keys on the table in the hallway.
Making my way into the house, I hear Denise’s voice from the living room.
“I was just wondering if the foundation could cover it,” she says quietly.
“Her insurance already makes us jump through hoops just to get her monitored and in the hospital.”
She doesn’t say anything else while the person on the other line talks.
“It’s just so frustrating. There is a chance to save this little girl, and I can’t do anything about it.” She lets out a big breath. “Yeah, okay, I’ll send you what I can tomorrow for you guys to look over and see if there is anything the foundation can do for her.” She sits on the couch, her shoulders slumped forward almost in defeat. “Thank you. Kiss my nephew for me and tell my niece that Max was mine first.”
She throws her phone on the table in front of her. I walk into the living room. “Where is everyone?” I ask. When she looks over her shoulder at me, I see the tears that have rolled down her cheeks. I walk to her, sitting on the coffee table in front of her. She sits up straight in front of me, and I reach out, wiping the tear that slips out again. “Don’t cry,” I tell her, cupping her cheek in my palm. I don’t know if I’m crossing the line; I don’t know if she will jump away from my touch, but I couldn’t stop myself.
“Some days are harder than others,” she whispers, “and today is one of them.” She moves her face, nuzzling it further in my palm.
I move closer to her, ever so slowly, and her eyes watch mine the whole time. “Denise,” I say her name softly right before my lips touch hers. Her breath hitches a touch. Our lips touch, and it feels like my body wakes from sleeping. Like it’s never been awake.
Her hand comes up to my face now, and as she kisses me, she opens just a bit so that my tongue can slip in. And this right here, this moment with my lips on her, I know there hasn’t been a moment like this before in my life, ever.
My other hand comes up to cup her other cheek, and I’m about to turn my head to deepen the kiss when I hear a gasp, and she flies away from me. “I’m so sorry.” I hear my mother say, but my eyes aren’t on my mother. They are on Denise, who leaned back on the couch and is covering her face. “Dinner is going to be done soon,” my mother says and walks out of the room