A Healer's War

Chapter 32 - Second Date

Chapter 32: Second Date

16:52. Tuesday - April 24th.

"My grandma was not an arsonist," Khloe hissed, aiming a fork loaded with lettuce, onion, and beef.

"You told me she lit the barn on fire," Rory said, ripping off a piece of a tortilla and popping it in his mouth.

Khloe didn't look up from her food. "It was an accident."

"Twice? I mean, you do something like that twice, and it becomes your thing."

She snorted, covering her mouth as she laughed and looked at him. Rory thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world. He caught a pair in scrubs glancing their way from a nearby table. Taco Salad Tuesday drew a crowd—most tables in the sprawling cafeteria were full, but they'd found a small table near the back wall with some semblance of privacy.

Khloe aimed her fork at him again. "Be nice to my grandma."

He raised both hands in surrender. "From what I hear, she's an amazing woman who loved her brilliant granddaughter... and had a sensual passion for fire."

She rolled her eyes, pretending to flick a fork full of taco filling. Perhaps it was reflexes honed by working with children every day, or perhaps he was just relaxed for the first time in a long while, but he mimed being struck in the face and wiping off a sticky glob, earning another snort from Khloe. A crowd of white jackets at the next table glanced over. Rory recognized one from Magus' flock.

"I'm changing the topic. How was your class?"

"I saved some rubber dummies from choking, cardiac arrest, and, new this year, a swarm of bees. Thank goodness for Epi - made it pretty easy." Rory tried to sound casual, but the combination of passing his training and trying to figure out how to sneak Jacklyn past the Secret Service exhausted him.

"Bees? I once-."

Bzzzz. Bzzzz.

Khloe reached down and grabbed the pager off her hip. She sighed, "Sorry, it's from... an outside number? Huh. I should go check on this."

Rory leaned forward. About Conner? No, not from an outside number... right?

"One sec," she said, hurrying for the phone bank on the far wall of the cafeteria. Rory took another bite and scanned the cafeteria. Most of the blue tables were full. A few families had pulled two or three together. A grandma sat beside her grandchild with a parent on the other side. Three generations, sitting together at a hospital. Who are they here for? He hoped they were okay.

He wiped his hands on his napkin and glanced back toward the phones. Khloe was shaking her head with a receiver to her ear. She turned, facing away from him, so he couldn't read her expression.

Outside, he could see the Willamette River sparkling as it flowed through the city below. One of the pleasant parts of working on the Hill was any view east would be a panorama of the city skyline. On the right day, at sunrise, a fog bank filled the river valley, and only the tallest towers of the city rose through the mist. Behind that, three mountains bathed in a blue-purple sky.

"It's a beautiful view," a woman said behind him.

Rory nearly choked. He knew the voice. Coughing, he cranked around in his chair. "Caroline?"

Rory almost didn't recognize her. She wore a navy pantsuit, a cream blouse, and aviator sunglasses. A candy-striped cane tapped the table leg, and she smoothly slid a chair from another table and sat beside him.

Before Rory could say anything, she gestured to his tray. "May I?"

"S-sure," Rory stuttered.

Caroline felt for the fork and stabbed away happily, forking up lettuce and tomatoes. The Wyth hummed quietly as she chewed.