CHAPTER EIGHTTEEN
Tuesday
Manda's morning started off great.
She woke up feeling better than she had since she arrived at the hospital. Heck, better than she had since arriving in the Spokane area.
She had a shower, and ordered cinnamon rolls for breakfast, along with bacon and eggs. She even got a vanilla latte. Now that her headaches were under control, her appetite was roaring back. She ate every bite of breakfast, and drank a juice as well.
Then the ER doctor who had admitted her, a small thin Asian-American with a nice smile and screaming yellow-and-blue sneakers, checked on her, made a notation on her chart, and told her she could go home.
"I can?" she asked, her eyes wide.
He chuckled. "I get that response a lot. Can't understand it. Sure you don't want to lie around here and be waited on for a few more days?"
"Uh, thanks, everyone's great, but... no thanks."
"All right then. Your nurse will be along in a bit to take the IV out. Just relax till then, okay? You take care of yourself, Manda."
Left alone, Manda sat up and looked to the phone on the bedside table... and remembered she had no one in the entire Spokane Valley to call. The only person she even knew at all was T-Bear, and he had his own life. She couldn't expect him to drop everything and come get her.
And even if he did, where would she ask him to take her, a homeless shelter?
She sank back in the bed and hugged the blankets up around her, staring sightlessly at the puffy clouds in the blue spring sky outside.
Oh, God... she was going to have to call her mother
Manda's lip quivered, and tears filled her eyes. She put a hand over them, taking a shaky breath, fighting the urge to bawl like a baby. Could she just catch one stinkin' break, please?
She was going to have to call her mom, and ask to stay with her. Arliss Kowitsky was not going to be pleased—and wasn't that the understatement of the year?
* * *
The first thing T saw when he walked into Manda's hospital room were the roses. All right. They were all pretty and golden-gingery just like he'd ordered. Bet his honey girl liked that.
Then he saw her, his smile spread even farther. She was sitting up, all fresh and clean, her hair shiny as a new penny.
"Hey there," he greeted her. "You look good. Real good." Except her eyes were kinda pink, like she'd been crying again. His heart contracted. He really hated seeing that. A woman like her should never have to cry, not over nothin'.
She looked to him and her cheeks pinked up too. Fuck, now that he liked. He hadn't been around gals who blushed for a long time, till he met the Boggs girls. Darlin' and Little Darlin', his nicknames for Lesa and Billie, blushed a bunch, probably 'cause they now spent time around a bunch of rowdy, horndog bikers who did not hesitate to say whatever was on their minds, no matter how raunchy.
Now he had him another sweet woman who showed her feelings, honest and true.
"Thank you for the flowers," she said, her hands working the blanket at her throat. "They're beautiful." She smiled at him, just a little one, but hey, for a gal who'd been through what she had, any smile was good, right?
"You're welcome for the flowers," he said instantly. "Thought they might get you in the mood to, uh, not be mad at me no more."
He held up his hands as her smile disappeared. "Now, I ain't sayin' you gotta do it today, or even this week, but if you can see your way clear to forgive me one of these days, that'd be good. Say, by Easter?"
She gave him a look. "What's Easter got to do with anything?"
T rocked back on his heels. "Well see, if you're mad, the Easter bunny won't come. He don't like folks arguin' and shit."
She giggled, and he tried to look innocent. "What? That's a known fact. An' I know you don't wanna miss out on all them chocolate eggs. I like the peanut butter filled ones, myself."
She shook her head, her face brighter than it had been. "Everyone knows vanilla creme are the best. Or chocolate creme, those are good too."
T shook his head, trying to look sad for her. However, he filed her preferences away in his memory, 'cause he had every intention that by Easter, him and his honey girl would be sharing candy and more.
"Oh, almost forgot," he said, putting a hand to his pocket. "Gotcha a new phone, since yours went missing."
He handed it to her, and watched her eyes widen, her plump lips part as she examined the pearly white smart-phone with a swirly gold design on the case. He was proud of his choice, it was pretty and feminine as fuck. Just like her.
"T," she breathed. "You shouldn't have." Then she held out the phone to him, reluctance written all over her face. "I can't accept this."
T opened his mouth to tell her if she felt bad about it, they could trade for the two Benjamins he'd given her, but thought better of that in the nick of time. Reminding her he'd originally thought her a whore would just hurt her feelings again. And besides, he wanted her to keep that money. A woman needed some cash or credit cards in her purse, or bad shit could happen—and in her case, already had.
"Got a BOGO deal," he said instead. "I needed one too, see? Last one got stolen." He did not mention this had happened at the clubhouse Didn't want her to think he lived in a den of thieves.
He was gettin' good at this tactful shit.
“Your phone’s covered by my insurance, too. Moke made me buy it this time.”
Manda gave him a look, but her brown eyes were soft. "Well... all right. But soon as I'm working again, I'm gonna pay you back. You know that, right?"
"I can give you ideas on that payback right now," he said. "No money involved. I like cookies, pie and cake. Any flavor you wanna bake, although I'm extra partial to snickerdoodles, chocolate chip cookies, and apple pie. I'll buy the stuff, you do the bakin'. An' if you wanna add in a little shakin' while you're bakin', that's good too." He lifted his arms and waggled his hips.
She laughed, so that was a win. "I don't usually dance while I bake. Makes me drop things."
"All the better. You drop anything on the floor, you gotta bend over in your little skirt, which'll be short. Then I get to see your panties, an' if they're anywhere as sexy as them little white lace ones, I'll be a happy man."
She put her hands to her face to hide her laughter, and nearly smacked herself in the nose with her new phone. "You're a nut," she mumbled into her hands.
He politely ignored her name-calling, lifted his phone and pressed the fourth number on speed dial. Her phone sounded with the first lines of Abba's hit song, 'Honey, Honey." She let out a little shriek, and dropped the phone on the bed.
"That's me callin' you," he told her over the singing. "So now you got my number in your contacts. You can add who else you want.”
Manda found the right button and silenced his call.
He went on. ”You got a new number, which is bad ‘cause you’ll have to let your people know that, but it’s good ‘cause your ex can’t get in touch with you. You got lotsa minutes, 'cause you're on my plan, and I play games on my phone which uses a lot. I also listen to audiobooks. You want a good book, just ask and I'll share my favorites."
This spate of information was a lot to take in. Manda blinked, and asked the first question that popped into her head. "Um, what's your ringtone if I call you?"
He waggled his brows at her. "Well, I couldn't use American Honey, 'cause Pete's already got that one for his woman. So I got 'Honey, Honey' by the Archies. That's a dumb-shit name for a band, but they're from the sixties, before they knew any better. 'An you are my candy girl,'" he sang off-key.
Manda covered her ears, wrinkling her nose. T laughed, a deep, rumbly sound that made a nurse walking by look in, and smile.
"So," he said, "I hear they're lettin' you outta this joint today. You ready?"
Then his brows drew down, and he dipped his chin, gazing at her in worry. "Honey girl? What's wrong? You wanna get out, don't you?"
She was biting her lip. "Yeah," she said. "It's just... I don't know where to go. My mom lives in Boise, so I’ll need a bus ticket to get there. Only I need a ride to the bus station… wherever that is."
He gave her a long look. "You wanna get there? I'm seein' a lack of happy there in your face."
She shook her head slowly. "No. My mom and I... she'll be the one lacking the happy, if I show up and ask to move in with her. She'd rather be alone with her cigarettes and her TV."
The fuck? A woman had this sweet thing for a daughter, and she didn't want her around? Hell, he was thirty years old, and his mom still wanted him home once a month for an overnighter. He made sure he got there too, 'cause Rosalie Turner was a great mom. She loved showing him off to all her friends. They always had supper out, his treat, then went to Bingo or some shit like that, and then home to watch TV before bed.
"Well, ain't that a stinker," he said. "So then, it's all settled."
"Um... what's all settled?"
He flung out one arm toward the windows, outside of which weak sunlight filtered through the clouds, and where he could see the prairies to the west . "You're comin' with me, o' course."