a speed reader, which has its benefits when it’s a medical journal. But then I wait months for a new Dean Koontz to come out and I finish it in a few hours.”
“I’m surprised you have time to read,” she told him honestly. It seemed like he pretty much lived at the hospital.
“Yeah, well, it’s either read or have a social life, and reading takes a lot less effort. Dean doesn’t mind if I fall asleep while I’m in the middle of a conversation.”
Sam laughed, and he offered another of his rare smiles. It was a shame he didn’t share them more often.
When his smile slid away and he sucked in his bottom lip, Sam knew he was ready to discuss the giant g string-clad elephant lurking between them.
“About last night –”
“Don’t.” She put her hand on his arm, warm beneath his scrubs. “You know what I was there to do, and I think you know why, so there’s really no reason to rehash it.”
“But Sam –”
“No. Don’t you but me. There was plenty of butt to go around last night. I don’t think we need any more.”
Recognizing her play on words, Justin laughed, which was even rarer. But it was more rueful than amused. “It’s just… man, Sam. I wish there was something I could do. Are they still balking about Donnie’s care?”
“Same story, different day.” She put her arms above her head and stretched. “They’re pushing for me to move him to some kind of institution, like they’ve already written him off. There’s a window of only so many months they’ll allow for hospitalization, and we’re coming up on it fast. But what happens when he gets an infection, like the one he had a few weeks ago, and there are only semi-trained nursing aides to take care of it? I’m afraid he’ll die if I move him to one of those places. And he’s not going to be in here much longer anyway. I’ve seen signs that he’s coming out of it.”
Justin stared straight ahead, his expression a remote mask, and Sam swallowed a sigh of frustration. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone over to the Dark Side. I thought you were stronger than that, Luke.”
Justin’s smile this time was thin. “There’s been… progress,” he admitted, though he couched his words. She hated it when he went all professional on her. “But Sam, you know as well as I do that that doesn’t mean he’s coming down the home stretch. Response to painful stimuli and spontaneously opening his eyes are not necessarily positive indicators of a coma reversal. They could mean any number of things. We’ve discussed that.”
“Yes, but I can feel him, Justin. And I know it sounds crazy, but for a while he just wasn’t there. But lately –” She shook her head because she knew he secretly thought she was ridiculous. “He’s in there, Justin. And he wants to come back. Every time I leave, I almost sense his tension. When I’m here… look, I know it sounds crazy, but he’s relaxed. He’s happy that I’m with him.”
Sam didn’t have to be a brain surgeon to know what was going through Justin’s head – looney alert at three o’clock. She punched his arm and rolled her eyes. “Just because I can’t scientifically prove what I’m telling you, you think that I’m full of crap.”
“I’m a scientist,” he defended. “It’s sort of my thing. And I don’t think you’re full of crap, Sam. I think you’re full of hope. Which is a good thing, as long as you’re also realistic.”
“That’s what I have you for. The Voice of Doom.”
Shaking his head, Justin pushed himself to his feet. “I have to get back to work. At least the folks down in the ER don’t mock me.”
“They’re either sedated or unconscious when you meet them. Wait ‘til they wake up, and then see what happens. ”
“Aren’t you just full of smart remarks tonight?” He put his hand on the curtain to pull it closed, peering seriously over his