Page 52 of Hudson

I look up as Jolene walks in the door with a clipboard and a smirk. I forgot she worked here. In all the years Mom and I have been coming here, I have never once seen her. I see her mostly at the diner on Saturday afternoons, greeting me with her usual scowl.

“Hi, Jolene,” I say, already tense, and now even more so as she flicks through my patient notes. I frown, not needing her to know any more about my personal business. Professionalism isn’t one of her strongest qualities.

“I will be taking your donation today,” she says in a curt tone, her bedside manner no better than her usual personality. I wonder briefly if I can press the call button and request someone else.

“Thank you.” I decide to be cordial as I watch her hook up the needle and bag, getting everything ready. She at least seems to know what she is doing.

“This is your first time?” she asks, not looking at me, and I take a deep breath. It appears small talk is what we are doing, which is entirely new for us.

“Yes. It’s for my mom,” I tell her, although I’m sure she knows already.

“Guessed as much,” she says as she puts a ribbon around my upper arm, pulling it tight. “Make a fist with your hand and squeeze a few times. I need to find your vein.”

I do what she asks, my teeth biting down, anticipation of the sting getting to me.

“Great. Here we go,” she says, and I look away as I feel the sharp sting in my elbow, but it eases almost as quickly as it occurs.

“All done. You just need to sit here for a moment. Itwill take about five to ten minutes. I will be around, but press the call button if you need anything,” she says, packing up her things and tidying up the side counter, not looking at me at all. Closing my eyes, I try to breathe.

I race into the diner,a little late, and as I push through the door, the bells chime, announcing my arrival.

“Ahhh, here she is. I was getting worried,” Rochelle says, walking up to me, looking me over in concern.

“I’m here. Better late than never,” I say, smiling, even though I feel a little lightheaded.

“Hudson is already here waiting,” she says quietly, and I look over her shoulder, seeing Hudson’s head down, frowning at his phone in a booth at the back.

“Thanks, Rochelle.” Smiling, I notice the booth Jolene and her squad usually occupy now has other patrons.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” she says, before getting back to work as I start to walk toward the booth.

“Hey,” Hudson says, his face full of worry as he stands when he sees me, striding a few steps to meet me.

“Hi!” I say, bubbly and bright, which I notice eases his shoulders somewhat.

“You’re alright? It all went okay?” He grabs my hand, pulling me to him and looking down at my face intently. His other hand runs around my waist to keep me close.

“All fine. It's just a bit of blood,” I tell him, like he doesn’t already know, and his lips thin, unimpressed.

“It is almost a pint of blood, Lacy. Eight percent ofyour total blood volume,” he reiterates, and I give him a small smile, even though I do still feel a bit dizzy.

“I’m fine.” My hands rest on his chest. I don't need him to worry. I’m doing this for Mom, and a bit of lightheadedness is not going to stop me.

“Well, you need sugar so I went ahead and got Rochelle to put together your sundae for you.”

Stepping back, I see the sundae on the table already, two spoons waiting nearby.

“Ugh, that looks delicious. I’m starving.” We slide into the booth, both grabbing our spoons.

“Did you eat today?” he asks as I pick out the cherry.

“Jennifer made me a delicious breakfast before I left, and I had a sandwich at the donation space.”

“So, Jennifer has settled in this week?” Hudson asks as we dig in.

“She’s a godsend. She’s already like part of the furniture. She cooks, helps with Mom, and they’re always chatting about something. I already love having her around.”

“Sounds like she is just what you need,” Hudson says, scooping up the ice cream.

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