Chapter 15: Gerrity

Boone came down the corridor with a bouquet of grocery store roses and the tired face of a man who had practiced it in the elevator.

Two security guards walked behind him, not close.

I sat in the wheelchair outside the NICU doors with Maggie's box behind the glass at my back.

Rafe stood on my left, and June stood on my right, and nobody said anything.

"Annie," Boone said, and his voice shook just enough. "Thank God. Nobody would tell me anything."

"Nobody was supposed to."

"I've been calling for hours. I'm her father."

"The nurse told me you got to the front desk at seven," I said. "It's nine."

"I had to wait for the club to settle down. You made a hell of a mess, you know."

He held out the roses.

I didn't take them.

He looked at Rafe for the first time since the shop, and his face went flat.

"You've got a lot of nerve," he said, "standing in my family's hospital."

"It's the county's hospital," Rafe said.

"Boone," June said.

He turned to his mother, and the whole expression on his face changed.

"Mama. You're here. Thank God, somebody's on my side."

"I'm on Annie's side," June said. "I've been on Annie's side for fifteen years. Put the roses on the floor."

For a moment he only stared at her.

Then he laid the bouquet on the linoleum, carefully, as though it might go off.

The NICU nurse came out with the clipboard.

She was a short woman with a gray braid, and she looked at the three of us and then at Boone.

"Which of you is Mrs. Tarrant?"

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