“I guess,” Josie said slowly, not liking the idea of Memo being wheeled around the hospital with no one to keep her company.
“There’s talk of surgery, I think.”
“Surgery?” Josie’s heart jolted. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Well, I don’t think it’s necessarily bad if it helps her, and it’s not right away—there’s a waiting list, apparently.” There was a long sigh. “Anyway, I don’t think there’s anything we can do for now, darling. It’s a waiting game until we know any more.”
“Are you staying there? Maybe I should come back.”
“I don’t think so, darling—you might as well get some rest there, then come back in the morning. I’m going to try and convince your grandad to leave too, if we’re not allowed back in in the next hour. There’s no point in us all sleeping overnight here.”
“All right. But don’t you need anything from the cottage? You or Grandad?”
“No, it’s fine, I came back for a bit today actually—you were out.”
“Sorry,” Josie said immediately. “I went for a walk with…Max is here.” She glanced into the kitchen, but he still seemed distracted.
“Is that so?” To Josie’s surprise, Helen didn’t ask who Max was—clearly he’d made a big enough impression at the time to lodge himself in her memory.
“Umm, yes.” She wasn’t sure how to explain exactly what was going on between them, being as how she didn’t really know herself.
“Well, I’m glad of it.”
Josie frowned. “You are?”
“Yes, I’m glad you’re not alone. Has he…talked to you about anything?”
Josie glanced at him again, then quickly away. “Not yet,” she said, really hoping Helen wouldn’t go into it now.
She only sighed. “Your grandad is off trying to find one of the doctors, so I think I’d better go and find him, darling. He’s not doing very well with the sitting and waiting.” No, Josie thought, he wouldn’t be.
“All right. You promise to call me the moment you hear anything?” A bit of optimism couldn’t hurt, after all.
“I promise. I’ll text you, let you know when we’re on the way back.”
Josie hung up as Max came back with a plate of scrambled eggs on toast, which he handed over with a sort of apologetic grimace. “You’re not having any?” she asked as he sat down next to her.
“I’m not really hungry, but you should go ahead, eat.” He glanced at her plate. “If you’re generous enough to call that food.”
She ate in relative silence on the sofa, barely even tasting the food. But she ate it all, her stomach feeling better because of it, and set the plate aside. Next to her, Max was holding a mug, staring at the fire as she’d been doing. He looked just as tired as she felt, pale and drawn.
“So,” she said. “No New York for Christmas this year then?”
He looked at her, and hesitated before speaking. “No, well, my parents are actually in the UK at the moment—we’re having Christmas all together at my sister’s flat—she even managed to get the day off work.”
Josie bit her lip. “And now you’re here with me instead.” Two days before Christmas, no less.
Max shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I want to be here and they understand.” She wondered what, exactly, he’d told them when he’d left at the drop of a hat to come to her—his parents had never even met her, and she doubted her brief encounter with his sister in New York had left a positive impression.
Josie let her head drop companionably on his shoulder and felt a tingle across her scalp as he stroked her arm. Needing the warmth, the comfort, she tilted her face up so she could kiss him and he returned it, soft and gentle, in a way that made her sigh. He stared into her eyes as they broke away. He was the only person she’d ever met who had ever looked at her like that—in a way that made her feel like he was looking at all of her, and still liked everything about her.
“Josie,” he began, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I know this isn’t really the right time to say this…” She felt herself tense next to him, waiting for the blow. He ran his hand down the back of her neck, left it there. “But I love you.” His lips did that small half smile—the one she knew he truly meant.
Josie felt herself holding her breath as she searched his face, the words he’d spoken not quite feeling real. She reached her own hand up to rest it on his, and took a breath. “Max—”