Page 23 of Shimmering Emeralds
Oblivious to the turmoil she was causing, or simply not caring, Meg took another enormous bite of her sandwich.
The nurse gave a shiver of disgust before racing out into the hallway.
Meg turned back to frown at me. “What’s her problem?”
Before I could answer, she said, “Oh, she was grossed out by your rabbit food, right?”
Humoring the ridiculous woman, I replied, “Yeah, I’m sure that was it.”
We ate the rest of our food in silence, except for the low-volume Def Leppard music being emitted from the television. Tilting my head toward it after I tossed my salad container and plastic fork into the trash can, I said, “This obnoxious, head-banging music is a great idea to help wake up Harper.”
Meg nodded before saying, “Or maybe we should have stuck with the country station.”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise, not quite able to believe she had just said that, until she added, “She would wake up begging us to change it.”
“I should have known you would taint the poor child’s taste in music.” I smiled to let Meg know I was just teasing.
“Actually, she likes country music––much to my chagrin,” Meg admitted.
“Go, Harper!” I said, surprised such a young child would have an opinion that varied so widely from her mother’s.
Answering my unasked question, Meg said, “She stays at night with my mom, while I work as the bouncer at The Rusty Nail Saloon. The two of them take two-step line-dancing lessons at the Legion on Thursday evenings.”
I latched on to the most surprising tidbit. Staring at the petite woman, I asked, “You work as a bouncer at a bar?”
It was obvious by the stubborn jut of her chin that I’d managed to poke a sensitive area. When she snapped, “Yes, and I’m a damn good one, too,” I nodded and agreed, “I bet you are.”
My confidence in her job skills seemed to calm her anger a bit as the blasting fire in her eyes dimmed to a smolder and she revealed, “When big old Hank finally retires from the police force, I’m going to be trained and ready to take his vacant spot.”
“You still want to be a cop?” I didn’t know why it surprised me, since once Meg set her mind to something, there was no stopping her.
Her eyebrows snapped together. “Of course, and I’ll be a heck of a lot better at it than those two bozos that are supposed to be protecting us now. You should have seen the way they botched the case and bumbled around looking for Claire. Harper and her magnifying glass from the dollar store could have done a better job than they did.”
A scoffing chuckle emerged from my throat at the ridiculous mental image Meg’s assertion created. Meg would certainly do a better job than the odd couple that had handcuffed me earlier, but I doubted they were so bad that a first grader could out-sleuth them.
Meg smiled, but the gesture didn’t reach her tired eyes. Knowing the woman had to be exhausted, I tilted my head toward the extra bed. “Why don’t you try to get some rest?”
Although she looked longingly at the bed, she shook her head and looked back at her daughter. “I don’t want to miss anything with Harper. Besides, I think I’m too worried to sleep.”
“Just rest your eyes for a bit. I’ll stretch out across these two chairs and listen for changes. I’m a very light sleeper,” I assured her.
“Once I fall asleep, I sleep like the dead,” she admitted as she allowed me to take her hand and help her up from the chair and over to the narrow cot.
I beamed a smile of amusement at her. The woman was a complete enigma. Anything that you assumed by simply looking at her was exactly the opposite in reality. Teasing her, I said, “I suppose you snore, too.”
“Oh, you have no idea.” Her lips turned up as she climbed onto the bed.
As I returned to my makeshift bed for the night of two plastic hospital chairs, I couldn’t believe how much I was looking forward to spending what was bound to be a physically uncomfortable night in such close proximity to Meg––even if she did practically raise the roof off the hospital with her obnoxious snores.
21
Meg
Ihad assumed that I would spend the night wide-awake and staring at the ceiling, but the pressure and stress of the past twenty-four hours must have finally taken their toll on my body because when my eyelashes fluttered open, there was sunlight streaming in through the room’s window.
My eyes darted to the side to check on Harper, but she hadn’t budged. I was surprised to see Levi sitting up in one of the room’s chairs and looking at me. His voice sounded amused and jovial, like he’d just had the best sleep of his life––even though I knew he couldn’t have––when he said, “Good morning, sunshine.”
“Morning,” I responded, but my sore throat made my voice sound gravelly. I reached a hand up to gingerly pat near my collar bone as I tried to swallow the raw, dry feeling away.
