uneasy. He was nice enough, but he just didn’t give her any confidence. She felt worse now than she had before meeting with him.
Phillips suddenly took out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling and blowing out a plume of smoke. His eyes were squinting as he inhaled again. “Tough meeting with the doctor?” he said.
Kallie glared at him. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
“Quit for nine years. Yesterday would have been nine years and two months.”
He grinned and blew out another plume.
“You just started smoking again?” she asked, incredulous.
“Still have my old pack, the one I kept in my nightstand since I quit, for “just in case.” As it turns out, that old pack came in handy after all.”
“Throw it away. Don’t start back up again now.”
“I was miserable without my cigarettes. Now I feel like myself again.” He held the cigarette comfortably between his thumb and forefinger. “Anyway, enough about my bad habits. Tell me what that doctor said that got you so upset.”
She folded her arms and wrinkled her nose as the scent of acrid smoke reached her nostrils. “The surgeon said that Hunter’s not out of the woods yet.”
“Is that all? They have to say that sort of thing—it’s like part of their rulebook.
Otherwise, they can get in trouble if things take a wrong turn.”
“He said most complications take place in the first forty-eight hours post surgery.”
“More standard medical speak and ass covering,” Phillips replied without missing a beat.
“How do you know?”
“I work in law enforcement and I deal with MDs all the time. They all say that stuff and it’s always about avoiding malpractice lawsuits. I wouldn’t let it scare you, Kallie.”
For the first time since she’d seen him in Hunter’s room, Kallie was actually glad to have the detective with her. He was less threatening now, and seemed to be just a regular guy who had a difficult job. Besides, he clearly felt terrible about what had happened—it had driven him to take up smoking again.
“Thanks for saying that,” she told him.
“Not a problem.” He smiled, flicked his cigarette butt to the sidewalk and stepped on it.
“I want to go back inside and be with Hunter,” she said.
“Of course.”
So they went together.
When they got to Hunter’s room, he was still sleeping. Kallie took a seat next to his bed and the detective went and sat right by the door, pulling a curtain beside the bed to give her more privacy.
Kallie checked her phone. She’d turned it off earlier and now, upon turning it on again, saw that she had more than a dozen new messages.
It would be friends and family and God only knew who else, telling her how sorry they were but probably secretly glad that they’d gotten voicemail. That way, they wouldn’t actually have to have a conversation with her.
Kallie put her phone away and determined to check messages later—for now, she just wanted to sit with Hunter and be quiet and watch his chest slowly rise and fall.
Simply knowing that he was alive and stable and that time was passing was enough. Precious time would go by and as each minute ticked away, the chances of him recovering and staying healthy grew stronger. She would sit here every minute that she needed to, every second of every hour, to make sure he was safe and taken care of.
When her phone began ringing again, she tried to ignore it. But it continued ringing, so she finally picked it up and saw her mother’s cell number.
She didn’t want to answer, but couldn’t justify ignoring her mother when she was supposedly flying into LA that day.
“Hey Mom,” she sighed into her phone.
“Where have you been? We kept calling and calling—“
“Sorry Mom, I’ve been at the hospital with Hunter all morning and I haven’t been keeping track of time.”
“I was getting worried. Please, Kallie, you need to stay in touch with us.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
There was a long silence as her mother digested
Phillips suddenly took out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling and blowing out a plume of smoke. His eyes were squinting as he inhaled again. “Tough meeting with the doctor?” he said.
Kallie glared at him. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
“Quit for nine years. Yesterday would have been nine years and two months.”
He grinned and blew out another plume.
“You just started smoking again?” she asked, incredulous.
“Still have my old pack, the one I kept in my nightstand since I quit, for “just in case.” As it turns out, that old pack came in handy after all.”
“Throw it away. Don’t start back up again now.”
“I was miserable without my cigarettes. Now I feel like myself again.” He held the cigarette comfortably between his thumb and forefinger. “Anyway, enough about my bad habits. Tell me what that doctor said that got you so upset.”
She folded her arms and wrinkled her nose as the scent of acrid smoke reached her nostrils. “The surgeon said that Hunter’s not out of the woods yet.”
“Is that all? They have to say that sort of thing—it’s like part of their rulebook.
Otherwise, they can get in trouble if things take a wrong turn.”
“He said most complications take place in the first forty-eight hours post surgery.”
“More standard medical speak and ass covering,” Phillips replied without missing a beat.
“How do you know?”
“I work in law enforcement and I deal with MDs all the time. They all say that stuff and it’s always about avoiding malpractice lawsuits. I wouldn’t let it scare you, Kallie.”
For the first time since she’d seen him in Hunter’s room, Kallie was actually glad to have the detective with her. He was less threatening now, and seemed to be just a regular guy who had a difficult job. Besides, he clearly felt terrible about what had happened—it had driven him to take up smoking again.
“Thanks for saying that,” she told him.
“Not a problem.” He smiled, flicked his cigarette butt to the sidewalk and stepped on it.
“I want to go back inside and be with Hunter,” she said.
“Of course.”
So they went together.
When they got to Hunter’s room, he was still sleeping. Kallie took a seat next to his bed and the detective went and sat right by the door, pulling a curtain beside the bed to give her more privacy.
Kallie checked her phone. She’d turned it off earlier and now, upon turning it on again, saw that she had more than a dozen new messages.
It would be friends and family and God only knew who else, telling her how sorry they were but probably secretly glad that they’d gotten voicemail. That way, they wouldn’t actually have to have a conversation with her.
Kallie put her phone away and determined to check messages later—for now, she just wanted to sit with Hunter and be quiet and watch his chest slowly rise and fall.
Simply knowing that he was alive and stable and that time was passing was enough. Precious time would go by and as each minute ticked away, the chances of him recovering and staying healthy grew stronger. She would sit here every minute that she needed to, every second of every hour, to make sure he was safe and taken care of.
When her phone began ringing again, she tried to ignore it. But it continued ringing, so she finally picked it up and saw her mother’s cell number.
She didn’t want to answer, but couldn’t justify ignoring her mother when she was supposedly flying into LA that day.
“Hey Mom,” she sighed into her phone.
“Where have you been? We kept calling and calling—“
“Sorry Mom, I’ve been at the hospital with Hunter all morning and I haven’t been keeping track of time.”
“I was getting worried. Please, Kallie, you need to stay in touch with us.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
There was a long silence as her mother digested
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