Page 52 of Bernadette
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play coy with me, woman.” Chuck tried to sound stern, but his grin ruined the effect. “Since I met you almost a week ago, you’ve been an open and honest person. You tell people what’s what and I guess you could say you take no prisoners. Now tell me what you aren’t saying.”
Before Bernadette could answer, Lucas woke, and looked toward the commotion in the doorway. At the same time, he spoke, Chuck did.
“Wow, you’re hot,” Lucas blurted out.
“I’m dead and dreaming,” Chuck said at the same time. He laid his head back on the pillow with his eyes closed, then cocked open one in time to see FBI agent Mikel Stokes slap the back of Lucas’ head. He actually giggled, and that’s when the beautiful blonde woman with Stokes turned toward the bed.
“Chuck,” she said as she approached.
Chuck looked over at Bernadette and grabbed her hand to hold tightly. He didn’t like her look of jealousy, but it would be something to explore later.
“Mom, what are you doing here?”
“Mom?” Bernadette looked at him in horror. “This is your mother?”
“Yes, Mom, this is Bernadette Cromwell. Bernadette, this is my mother, Angela Dryden.” He watched as they looked at one another, then shook hands. He had to admit that his mother looked good. It had been six months since he’d seen her. “What are you doing here?” he repeated.
“Mr. Stokes came to New York to tell me you were in an accident. I can understand why you couldn’t tell me, and he explained that it was all the J’s doing. Mr. Stokes even admitted that instead of contacting the local branch of the FBI back home, he came himself. Before you say anything, I’m here for the next two months.”
“Mom, I’m fine.”
“I know you will be, but tell me this, are you going to be able to do things with your right hand?”
Bernie saw Chuck frown, then looked between the two of them. “What’s that mean?”
“It means when he was ten, he broke his left arm playing tackle football in gym class. He couldn’t even hold a fork in his right hand. I refused to feed him, thought he was old enough to learn by himself. It was bad,” Angela looked at Bernadette with a grin. “I mean really, really bad. If he ate anything besides a sandwich, I had to put a bib on him.”
“MOM!” Chuck looked at her in horror, and pointed to Lucas when he burst out laughing. “Shut up, if you tell anyone, I’ll know where it came from.” When he heard a snicker from his right, he only looked at Bernie with daggers coming from his eyes. She held up her hands, grinned, and only shrugged.
“It’s going to be fun watching you try to eat.” She turned to the other woman and held out her hand. “Hi, Mrs. Dryden, I’m Bernie.”
“Your name is Bernadette,” Chuck said through gritted teeth, and didn’t know if he liked the look exchanged between his mother and the FBI agent.
“Please, call me Angela.” Chuck settled back in his pillows and sighed in frustration when someone entered his room with a meal tray. He groaned loud and long when he saw it was nothing but liquids. When he saw the expressions on the faces of everyone in the room, he growled out, “Shut up.”
CHAPTER20
“How is Morgan?”Angela asked as she took the chair Lucas offered and ignored her son as much as possible. She grinned when he ended up picking up the bowl of soup and drinking it directly from the bowl. She laughed when he looked at her with a grin, the same one she’d seen every day when he was younger. Unable to help it, she looked at him and smiled, “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, Mom, but I don’t know how Morgan or Wyatt are, I only woke up here about two hours ago.” When he tried to adjust himself, he winced and had to pause to catch his breath.
“What’s wrong?”
“Your son has several bruised, broken, and cracked ribs,” Lucas said from the side of the room. “Along with his shattered, but now repaired, wrist.”
“Why are you still here?” Chuck scowled at the younger man.
Lucas grinned at him, “Because I don’t have a vehicle to get home, or over to the other hospital. Neither does Bernie.”
“Didn’t you think when the J’s or A’s come here to see me you could ask for a ride over there?” Chuck asked, then looked at Bernie in confusion when Lucas refused to answer.
“He feels guilty,” Bernie blurted out.
“Bernie!” Lucas looked at her in shock. “Why would you tell him that?”
“Because it’s true.” Bernie looked at Chuck to explain. “He told me he feels it’s his fault that Wyatt was hurt. If he had come for the cavalry at six oh one when he was supposed to—his words, not mine—instead of six thirty, all of this could be prevented.”
