Page 69 of Chef's Kiss at the Chalet
“I’m on it.”
While Charles stayed with the twins, I found my way to the hospital cafeteria to load up on coffee, chips, some apples and bananas, and a few pre-packaged sandwiches. I had no idea how long we’d be waiting, but it was always better to over-prepare where food was concerned.
When I returned to the waiting area, they were all seated against the wall facing the double doors that led to the exam rooms, so they could leap up at the first sign of Pops’s doctor.
“Thank you, Elle. You’re a lifesaver.” Bea took one of the coffee cups and a sandwich.
“Oh, hey,” Delilah said, grabbing some chips from my arms. “What about the contest? Who won?”
“We dipped out early, so not sure,” Charles told her, stretching out his long legs while accepting a coffee cup with an appreciative smile.
“Oh, no. I’m sorry we made you miss the results,” Bea said, unwrapping the chicken salad sandwich.
“Forget about it.” I placed the rest of the snacks on a table beside us. “This is more important.”
“I called Amelia,” Charles told me. “She’s taking my parents out to dinner, so you won’t have to do dinner service at the chalet.”
“Are you sure she’s okay with that? Your sister already bailed me out once today.”
I felt guilty that one favor was now two. It seemed like shirking my responsibilities. But the bigger part of me wanted to be here for the twins. Pops was sort of the first friend I had made in Maplewood Creek. He quite literally saved me from the blizzard. Without him, I would have spent that first night sleeping in my car.
“Amelia’s always thrilled with any excuse to dress up, and Dad never says no to her.”
“What about your mom?” I asked.
Because she was the one I was really trying to impress. And I didn’t think a full day’s absence would reflect well on me if she found out.
Charles shrugged. “I told Amelia to order a very expensive bottle of champagne. That usually wipes the slate clean, if you know what I mean.”
When all else fails.
So, the four of us settled in for a long wait. I passed out on Charles’s shoulder almost immediately, the exhaustion of the day catching up with me all at once. Sometime later, he gave me a little nudge.
“Elle,” he whispered. “Hey. Wake up.”
“Hmm?” Wiping my eyes, I blinked against the bright fluorescents. I lifted my head from his shoulder and felt the dampness of drool pooled in the corner of my mouth. “Oh, great. That’s embarrassing.”
He chuckled softly. “You were really conked out.”
It took a few seconds to remember why I smelled like ginger and cinnamon, my brain groggy and sputtering. Then all at once it hit me and I bolted upright.
“How’s Pops? Has there been an update?”
“The girls just went back to see him. You ready to go say hi?”
“Yeah.” I lumbered to my swollen, aching feet. “Let’s go.”
Charles nodded at the receptionist behind the front desk, who hit a buzzer that opened the double doors for the hallway that led to the exam rooms. About halfway down the hall, past the nurses’ station, I heard Pops’s voice.
“It doesn’t even hurt that bad,” he was saying, as Charles pulled back the curtain to reveal Pops in a hospital bed surrounded by his granddaughters. “Looks worse than it is.”
“That’s because they’ve got you on painkillers,” Bea told him, with no small hint of frustration. “Doesn’t mean you need to be juggling flaming swords any time soon.”
“How’s the patient?” Charles said.
“Hey, you two.” Pops glanced up with a jolly grin, waving a hand that was wrapped in a red- and white-striped cast up to his elbow, like a giant candy cane. “I’m quite the popular fella today.”
“If you wanted to see me again, you could have just called,” I teased. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”
