Penelope in Retrograde: A Novel(68)

“Thank Martin.” Phoebe holds open the bathroom door. “The guy is literally giving you the shirt off his back.”

I quickly close the door behind me, strip down to nothing, and step inside the shower. The showerhead barely reaches my forehead, and the water shoots out of it like a violent mist that stings my skin. My skin splotches an angry shade of red that’s only exacerbated when I start scrubbing with antibacterial hand soap. I’m in and out in a matter of minutes.

“Hey, it’s my turn to go see Dad,” Phoebe shouts from the other side of the door. “Martin’s on lookout and—”

“And what?” I fumble for the hand towel that’s meant to dry my entire body. “Phoebe, what’s going on?”

I can hear my sister talking to someone, but it’s not Martin. The other voice belongs to a woman. Shit, it’s probably a nurse. She’s probably wondering why the hell there’s a half-naked man in this room. Just wait until she realizes there’s a fully naked woman in the bathroom. We’ll be banned from the hospital for life.

“Here.” Phoebe cracks the door and sticks her hand through. She’s holding a floral dress identical to mine. “Change in plans.”

“This is Sarah’s dress,” I say as much to myself as I do to Phoebe. “How did you get Sarah’s dress?”

“Penny, I don’t have time for this. Just put on the damn dress and come out.”

She closes the door, and I do as I’m told. Sarah’s the same size as me, so the dress goes on easy. When I open the door, her shoes are right there, waiting for me. The woman is basically like Mary Freaking Poppins. I expect her to be on the bed covered in a bedsheet or a hospital gown next to Martin, but she’s not. Martin is in the chair by the window putting on his socks, and Sarah is next to the hospital room door. She has Smith’s jacket draped over her and a look on her face that is definitely nothing like Mary Poppins.

“Sarah, thank you so much for doing this,” I say. “Really, you didn’t have to come here at all, and the fact that you did and you’re letting me wear your clothes and—”

“Listen.” Her voice is low and threatening in a chipmunk sort of way. “I don’t know what I walked in on earlier, but let me make something perfectly clear. Smith is my boyfriend—not yours—and if you think I’m going to let some thirtysomething woman who still shops at Forever 21 steal him, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“You have my word.” I hold up my fingers in a peace sign. “Spice Girls honor.”

“Huh?” She makes a face. “What does that even mean?”

I can’t be mad at her for not knowing who the Spice Girls are. Not when I’m wearing her dress—a dress that happens to be from Target, not Forever 21—and her shoes.

“It means I don’t want to steal your boyfriend.” I glance over my shoulder at Martin. “I’ve already got a pretty decent one.”

Even if he isn’t real.

She moves aside and holds the door open for me. “For the record, I didn’t undress in front of him.”

“You’re a solid chick, Sarah,” I say. “I’ll bring your clothes back to you ASAP.”

Phoebe and Falon are still visiting with Dad when I make my way back into the lobby. Martin and Smith swap places as lookout, and Martin offers to find me a cup of coffee. I want to go with him. I want to thank him for coordinating all this, but he’s in the elevator heading toward the cafeteria before I have a chance to say anything at all. Maybe I’m reading too much into things, but it almost felt like he didn’t want to talk to me. Like getting coffee was as much of an excuse for him to have some space as it was to get me some caffeine. Not that I need any caffeine at this point. My body is buzzing with adrenaline.

I take a seat next to Nana Rosie in the lobby. She’s sipping a cup of tea that smells a lot like bathwater and socks. “How are you holding up, Nana?”

“I’m all right, all things considered. Your father is a tough old bird. He’s going to be OK.” She squeezes my hand. “How are you holding up? You smell a hell of a lot better.”

“Thanks to you guys,” I say.

“Thanks to Martin.”

“Right.”

“You know, I’m no romance writer, but there’s something terribly romantic about a man who’s not afraid to bend the rules or look like a fool for the people he cares about.”

“Yeah.” A crooked smile takes shape on my face. “Though I’m not sure how much is Martin caring for me and how much is Martin being a genuinely great guy.”

“Maybe it’s both.”

Maybe.

“Penny, Nana,” Phoebe calls from across the lobby. “You’re up.” She nods toward the hallway where my father’s room is. “They’re taking him back in fifteen minutes.”

“Come on, Nana.” I hold my hand out for her to take, but she shakes her head no. “What’s wrong?”

“You go on your own, dear,” she says. “I’ll see him when he gets out of surgery.”

“But Nana, what if something happens?”

“It won’t.”

“But—”

“Penelope, I’ve had seventy-six years to tell your father that I love him, and he’s had just as long to tell me.” She pauses. “I’ve said everything I could ever need to say. The two of you have not.”