New Year Escapes. Leslie Kelly

gazes met, and there was a moment’s awkward silence, probably because it was the first thing they’d agreed on since he’d opened his eyes and found her in his hospital room.

      Her gaze slid away before his did. She seemed to be staring at the key in her hand.

      “So, fine,” George said after a moment. “Go back to my place and get me some clothes. I’ll be getting signed out of here while you’re gone.” He told her where things were.

      Sophy nodded. “I’ll be back.” She shook hands with Sam again on her way out. “You’ll leave me lots of instructions? Things to watch for?”

      “I’ll make a list,” Sam said. “And you can call me anytime.”

      Now her smile for him was as warm as the one she’d had when she talked about Gunnar.

      “Take your time,” George muttered.

      Sophy shot him a glare and stalked out, taking her luggage and briefcase with her.

      “Well, now. You never told me about Sophy,” Sam said with a knowing grin.

      “No need.”

      “Not for you maybe,” Sam laughed. “Must be an interesting history you two have. And a daughter, too? Did I ever really know you, Georgie?”

      George just looked at him. “Stuff it.”

      “A month? You’re joking.” But it was clear from her voice that Natalie didn’t think it was a laughing matter. “You didn’t commit yourself to staying a month in New York. Did you?” she demanded.

      Sophy sighed, tucking her phone between her jaw and her shoulder as she opened one of George’s dresser drawers and took out boxers, a T-shirt and a pair of socks. “Hopefully not a full month. Maybe just a couple of weeks. But yes, I did. I have to, Nat.”

      “You don’t have to.”

      Sophy shut the drawer. “All right, maybe not in the strictest sense of have to. But in the world I live in, I owe George.”

      “For what?”

      “For … things. He’s a good man,” Sophy hedged, moving on to the closet. She didn’t want to discuss this with Natalie, but she had no choice. They were business partners. If she was going to be gone three or four weeks, that would require adjustments.

      Life, it seemed, was full of adjustments these days. She pulled a button-front shirt off a hanger in George’s closet and took a pair of khakis off another hanger. It seemed like too intimate a thing to be doing—prowling through George’s clothes—which was why she’d called Natalie while she was doing it. So she’d focus on business and not on being in George’s room.

      “A ‘good man’ doesn’t explain anything,” Natalie said.

      So Sophy told Natalie what Sam had told her and ended with, “So he needs someone with him. To keep an eye on him. To make sure he doesn’t have more bleeding.”

      “And you think you’re the only one who can do that?”

      “No, I don’t think I’m the only one who can do it. But right now George does. And—” she sighed “—I need to humor him.”

      “Did his doctor say that?”

      “No. But getting George stressed isn’t going to make things better.”

      “And you’re not going to get him stressed?”

      Sophy gave a short laugh. “Can’t promise that, sadly.” She had folded the shirt and khakis and now added them to the single shoe she’d stuck into the grocery bag she’d found in the kitchen. No point in bringing the other since he had an orthopedic boot on his left foot. Then, clothes gathered, she started back downstairs. Gunnar followed her down.

      “It’s not about the head injury,” Natalie decided.

      “Maybe not,” Sophy allowed. “Maybe we just need some closure.”

      “I thought you were already closed.”

      “We’re not legally divorced. I told you that.”

      “But you haven’t lived together for years, since right after Lily was born. He hasn’t been around at all.”

      “I didn’t want him around.”

      “And now you do?”

      Sophy didn’t know what she wanted. Her emotions were in turmoil, had been since the emergency room doctor’s call last night. Besides, it didn’t matter what she wanted. This wasn’t about her.

      “Of course not. I’m just being a rent-a-wife, Nat,” Sophy said with some asperity. “It’s what we do.”

      “Oh, okay,” Natalie said after a long moment, and from her tone Sophy could tell her cousin wasn’t exactly convinced.

      “I need to do this, Nat.”

      “Do it then,” Natalie said more convincingly. There was a pause. Then she said, “I’ll bring Lily out on Saturday.”

      It was far more help and cooperation than Sophy had any right to expect. “You’re a gem,” she said, relieved beyond measure.

      “I’m glad you think so,” Natalie replied. “But the truth is, I want a look at the man who’s playing fast and loose with your life.”

      The man who was playing fast and loose with her life looked like death by the time he was dressed in the clothes Sophy had brought and was leaning on a pair of crutches, waiting while she flagged down a taxi.

      Fortunately one turned up almost immediately. If it hadn’t Sophy would have been sorely tempted to march him right back into the hospital and suggest they rethink things.

      He had taken the clothes from her with barely a word when she’d returned with them. She’d gone out to get last-minute instructions from Sam while George got dressed. And while Sam had given her a lengthy commentary complete with all the dire things that could happen, George still hadn’t come out of the room when Sam finished.

      When he finally had, he was white as the sheets on the bed he’d just left, and Sophy had wanted to push him right back into it.

      But George had said, “Let’s go,” through his teeth, and so they’d gone.

      He hadn’t spoken again, and he still didn’t say a word when the taxi pulled up and Sophy opened the door. He just got in, not without difficulty, and slumped back against the seat, eyes shut, perspiration on his upper lip, when she shut the door again and Sophy gave the driver George’s address.

      Because he had his eyes closed, she studied him. And the longer she did so, the more concerned she got. His breathing seemed too quick and too shallow. His knuckles were white where he clenched his fists against the tops of his thighs. With his head tipped back, she could see his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. She thought he was swallowing too much.

      He didn’t open his eyes or his mouth until the driver pulled up outside his place. Sophy eyed him nervously.

      “Can you manage?” she asked when she opened the door.

      “Yes.” The word came from between his teeth.

      She didn’t know if he could or not, but if he couldn’t, she supposed they’d deal with it then. So she got out and paid the driver, then waited as George eased himself slowly out of the car.

      Inside the house, Gunnar was barking. She could see him at the bay window, his paws up on the sill as he looked at them on the sidewalk. “He’s glad to see you,” she said and was pleased to see George’s features lighten fractionally as a faint smile touched his mouth.

      “I’m glad to see him.”

      Getting up the stairs was a chore. He wouldn’t have had a problem with the crutches if he hadn’t also hurt his shoulder