Lucidity

Chapter 13 - Parlor Tricks

“Nice scrubs,” Vincent said as they walked down the steps to the first floor.

Grace stuttered for a moment then remembered her cover story. “The ER gave them to me. They had to cut my clothes off after—”

“The accident.” He didn’t sound convinced.

“Yeah.” They emerged from the stairwell. Grace fought to keep her pace slow, uncertain, as if she couldn’t find her way through this hospital in her sleep.

They arrived at the glass doors leading into the cafeteria. Vincent held one open for her and a wave of noise crashed down on her. So many people crowded into one place.

What if Lukas was hiding among the crowd, waiting for her? She took a step backwards, fought to control her breathing, to push back the crimson tide of panic.

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

“Why not? You must be hungry after your,” he paused, looked at her, “long trip. From Minnesota.”

“I don’t have any money.”

He looked like he expected that. “Don’t worry. It’s on me.”

He took her by the arm and steered her inside. Insects buzzed at his touch, crawling under her skin and playing hopscotch along her nerve endings. She took several deep breaths and managed not to jump when the door banged shut behind her. See, that wasn’t so bad. She’d always liked coming here before. For medical personnel, the cafeteria was a refuge, a place where you could talk about anything, get sustenance, maybe even relax for a few minutes.

The smells of sausage and hash browns, pierogies with onions danced past her. Breakfast always was the best meal here. Her stomach growled in a most unladylike fashion and she couldn’t help but smile. When she looked up again, Vincent was staring at her with those dark eyes of his and she wondered what he was thinking.

“There’s a table by the window. You grab it, I’ll bring the food,” he said.

Grace hustled through the crowd, snagging the table just ahead of a giggling gaggle of nursing students. A few minutes later Vincent returned with a tray piled high with food, which he divided between them.

“So that must have been some accident,” he said when they both came up for air, the plates cleaned. He gestured with his fork to the staples in her scalp.

Grace nodded and took a sip of coffee.

“And it looks like you’ve been in accidents before,” he trailed off, giving her an opening. Grace ignored it—what could she tell him, anyway?

“Let’s talk about Alex,” she steered the conversation onto safer ground.

He raised an eyebrow. “All right. Do you seriously think you can just waltz into his life like this? Even if you are his mother, there’s protocols to follow. I don’t know, probably DNA testing or a court hearing—he’s a ward of the county.”

Grace shook her head and set her coffee cup down. “He doesn’t have time for any of that. He needs someone now.”

“You think you’ve got what he needs?” His voice rose and Grace flinched. “Unless you’re willing to give him your heart and lungs, then I sincerely doubt it.”

“Alex is on the transplant list? How? He has no permanent home. Have you found someone to adopt him?”

“What would you know about it? Besides, it took a lot of work and fast talking for me to get him on the list—”