Love Letters From Ladybug Farm - Donna Ball [57]
“I can do that,” Cici said, but Lori was already shaking her head.
“He’s going on sabbatical,” she said. “Even if he wanted to give me a break—which, I’m telling you, this guy does not—he couldn’t. It’s now or never.”
There was a timid knock on the half-open door. “Um, excuse me?”
A dark-haired young man with his arm in a sling hesitated in the doorway. “Lori Gregory?”
Cici stood with a questioning, welcoming smile. “Hi,” she said. “Lori would be the one in the hospital bed. I’m her mother.”
He hesitated, then came forward uncertainly, his right hand extended. “I’m Mark Clery,” he said, shaking Cici’s hand.
“Cici Burke,” she said.
Lori studied him with a puzzled expression on her face. “Do I know you?”
He glanced uncomfortably from Cici to Lori and took another step closer to the bed. “I’m the one who, uh...” He gestured at her leg with his good arm. “Hit you.”
Lori regarded him with absolutely no sympathy. “Thanks a lot,” she said, flatly.
“Lori!” That was from Bridget.
Cici admonished her daughter. “You’re the one who caused the accident, you know!”
And Lindsay apologized to Mark. “She’s on a lot of pain medication,” she explained. “She’s usually much nicer than this.”
“I know,” Mark said. And he tried to smile at Lori. “I’m in your poli-sci class.” He added earnestly, “I tried to miss you, I really did. I ran the scooter into a curb, but it was too late. I’m really sorry.”
Lori drew a breath, and released it in a long-suffering sigh. “Thanks,” she said, in a slightly more genuine tone than she had used before. And she added, “I guess it was my fault.” She glanced at her mother. “And I guess my life isn’t really over. It just feels like it is.”
“She’s upset because she’s missing a final,” Cici explained. She smiled at her daughter. “Her life is not over.”
Bridget indicated his sling with a quick and sympathetic smile. “Is your arm broken?”
He looked from Lori to Bridget, the discomfort in his face apparent. “Oh. No, ma’am. I just dislocated my shoulder.”
“Lucky you,” Lori sighed, then, quickly, “I mean, I’m sorry. I hope you feel better.”
Mark looked relieved. “You, too,” he said. “And I’m sorry. You know, about the exam.”
Lori sighed again. “Thanks.”
An awkward silence fell.
“Well,” Mark said. “I guess I better be going. I just wanted to make sure you were...” Once again he lifted an awkward hand toward the cast. “You know.”
“It was awfully nice of you to stop by” Bridget said.
“Wasn’t it, Lori?” Cici prompted.
Lori managed a quavering, pathetic smile. “Nice.”
Mark started toward the door, then turned around. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He reached into his pocket. “Your phone.”
Lori’s face lit up as though he had just presented her with a perfect score on her final and a winning lottery ticket. “My phone!” She sat up straighter against the pillows, extending both hands for it. “Does it work? Was it damaged?”
“It seems fine,” he said, presenting it to her. “I found it in the grass, but they had already taken you away.”
She didn’t even look up. She was already texting.
“Thank you, Mark,” Cici said, sincerely. “You may have just saved her life. Not to mention mine.”
The young man had a nice smile. “That’s okay” he said. His eyes lingered on Lori. “Tell her I hope she feels better.”
“He seemed nice,” Bridget said when he was gone.
Lindsay helped her gather up the candy and toiletries from Lori’s bed. “Very nice manners.”
“Unlike some people I could name,” Cici said.
Lori said, “Mom, please. Texting, here.”
Cici lunged for the phone, with a flash of impatience. Lindsay intercepted her, Bridget stepped between Cici and Lori, and Lori didn’t notice anything at all. Then a male voice boomed from the doorway.
“Where is my princess?”
Cici froze. She didn’t blink, she didn’t breathe. Bridget and Lindsay stared at her and then, slowly, all three gazes moved to the door.
The doorway was filled with pink roses—not just one dozen, nor even two, but three or four. Below the roses was a pair of legs clad in custom-tailored