Page 8 of Hold Me Instead
“I know.” Charlie rested her head against the doorjamb. “I couldn’t sleep last night, and really, it felt better to be here. Stay busy, I guess.”
“You spent all your free time here this past week as it is,” Maura said. “You can’t keep that up.”
Charlie nodded, her brow sliding against the wood frame. “This is the first village trick or treat Daniel will miss.” His strong runner’s form had looked frail in the hospital bed, well beyond his sixty-five years. “He looked like he’d aged ten years in a week, Maura.”
Maura averted her gaze. “I was wondering if you stopped by the hospital last night.”
“I barely saw him the first time. I needed…” Charlie swallowed.
Maura nodded, then patted Charlie’s arm. “Why don’t you get some fresh air? It’s a beautiful day, smells wonderful after the rainy week. Buy a coffee or something.”
Charlie looked at the wall clock. “Trick-or-treating starts soon—”
The back door burst open and smacked the wall.
“Sorry!” a voice rang through the hallway.
Charlie and Maura hustled toward the employee entrance, slowing at the sight of Charlie’s cousin using her body to softly close the door.
“Amber? What are you doing here?” Charlie asked.
Amber Harris whipped around, long golden-brown hair spinning under a bowler hat. “Hi!” she said, arms outstretched, a coffee in each hand. Her mauve lipstick grin was partly visible behind a green apple dangling in her face.
“What in the…?” Charlie started.
Amber straightened, showing off a black suit coat, buttoned over a white dress shirt and red tie. “I’m that portrait!”
Maura chuckled. “The Son of Man.”
“Yeah! Today I’m calling itThe Daughter of Man,” Amber said with a shrug. “Oh, shit, Maura. I didn’t grab you a coffee.”
Maura waved her off. “I was just telling Charlie she should get one, so your timing’s impeccable. Here, take her outside at least.” Maura’s firm grip scooted them along. “Don’t come in until you see trick-or-treaters. Coming our way, not clear across the park,” she clarified, then closed the door on them.
“She’s a strong little thing,” Amber said, handing over a cup. “And knows you well.”
Charlie took a sip, relishing the maple latte. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered.
Amber scoffed. “Yeah. Like you wouldn’t spot a kid way across the park going theoppositedirection and rush inside to prep as though they’d be here in three minutes instead of half an hour.”
Charlie took another sip, ignoring the accuracy of that statement.
“Oh!” Amber reached into a deep coat pocket and pulled out a small brown paper bag with the telltale white stamp of a cake. Her naturally husky voice deepened playfully. “Brought you this too.”
Charlie grabbed it and peered inside, the cinnamon sugar sweetness of Dorothy’s Bakery tickling her nose. “Snickerdoodles!” she squeaked.
“Figured you could use the pick-me-up,” Amber said.
“I’ll be on a sugar high after all this. You brought me a bunch!” Charlie said, a bite already in her mouth. “Ohmigod,” she managed.
“You don’t have to eat all of them now.”
“Ha!” Charlie replied, already reaching for a second.
“You can bounce off the walls with all the kiddos then,” Amber said, chuckling.
Charlie grinned. “So how’d you do this?” She poked the dangling apple on the hat’s brim.
“Oh! Lots of glue.” Amber nodded seriously, and the apple hat bobbed with her. “Most importantly, a fake apple.”
