Page 3 of Forever Never
But the thing he found most fascinating was the fact that she could see music. Back in the day, before things got complicated, he used to quiz her about the colors she saw for songs.
“Are you still at the museum?” Mira asked.
“Actually, I’m painting full time now,” she said.
That was news.He was surprised her parents hadn’t mentioned it.
Brick glanced into her cart and spotted three boxes of Marshmallow Munchies cereal, coffee, sugary creamer, and a package of honey buns. Not a protein or a vegetable in sight. The woman was stress eating.
“Houses or paintings?” Bill teased.
“Mostly just paintings,” Remi said with a wink. “But I’d paint a house for you, Bill.”
The man turned a shade of scarlet Brick had never seen. Such was the power of Remi’s charm.
She tucked a stray hair behind her ear, an old nervous habit, and that’s when he caught a glimpse of pale orange plaster between her thumb and index finger. Her right arm was in a cast.
Brick’s gut clenched as questions revolved through his mind.
It wasn’t any of his business. And he knew what would happen if he let himself get curious. Remi Ford was no longer his concern.
“Are you seeing anyone?” Mira asked. “Did you bring a boyfriend for Valentine’s Day?”
Brick clenched his jaw. “Excuse me,” he said, gripping the handle of his cart. “I’ve got to get going. Welcome home, Remi.”
“Thanks. It was nice to see you, Brick,” she said with a sad little smile.
He gave her a tight nod. With heroic effort, he walked instead of ran to the checkout, leaving her, the rest of the items on his grocery list, and his unanswered questions behind.
2
Well, that hadn’t gone horribly, Remi decided, as she looped her bags over her good arm and stepped back out into the biting morning cold.
After a long, sleepless night, she’d survived an unexpected encounter with Brick. And accidentally hugged him in a way that screamedwoman in distress. But she’d at least managed to swear Bill, Mira, and the rest of the store’s occupants to secrecy until she surprised her parents.
Which gave her about an hour before her mom got a call from someone spilling the news.
An hour to figure out her official story and wipe the fatigue from her face.
An hour to try calling the hospital again.
She walked far enough so that she was past the grocery store’s windows before dumping the bags on the sidewalk. Using her teeth to yank off her glove, she redialed.
“Northwestern Memorial Hospital, how may I direct your call?”
“Hi, I’m calling to get an update on a patient’s condition,” Remi said.
“Patient’s name?” The voice on the other end sounded like there were a lot of other things she’d like to be doing besides answering phones, but at least it was a different operator than yesterday.
“Camille Vorhees.”
“Your name?”
Remi hesitated. “I’m…her sister.”
“Name?”
Fuckity fuck fuck.“Alessandra?”
