skin tone. The blue veins in Mamá’s arms and hands stood out. Without her dancing eyes and animated face, her mother looked fragile.
Sage leaned over. “You look like her.”
“That’s what people say.” Her mother was more beautiful than Carolina would ever be.
“Sit.” Sage pushed a chair next to the bed. “Can I get you something? Coffee? Tea? Food?”
“I guess. I didn’t get a chance to eat.” She stroked Mamá’s hand. “Crackers and water?”
He grimaced. “How about a sandwich?”
She shrugged.
“I’m on it.” He patted her back and his chocolate-and-citrusy scent cut through the hospital disinfectant. “I’ll be right back.”
It should be—weird. But having Sage here wasn’t awkward or strange.
“Mamá.” She lay her head next to her mother’s. “I want you to get better. Don’t leave me alone.”
She held her breath, hoping Mamá would squeeze her hand.
Nothing. Carolina’s shoulders slumped as she exhaled.
“You have to get better. The gown you have on is not in your color wheel.” She smiled at her reference to The Blind Side. She and Mamá had watched it the other night and laughed at the line.
Carolina couldn’t stand the silence. “I met a very nice man when I interviewed at Fitzgerald House. We’ve talked every day since we met. When he heard I was at the hospital, he rushed down to help us. Isn’t that sweet? His name is Sage. His eyes are green—like his name.”
She stroked her mother’s hair. “He has headaches, too. I don’t know the cause, we haven’t known each other that long. He’s getting me some water. Isn’t that nice?”
Footsteps stopped at her mother’s doorway. Carolina brushed away the tears that wouldn’t stop.
“Hi, Carolina,” Dr. Laster whispered. She moved in and gave her a hug. “I’m sorry to see you again so soon.”
“Me, too.” Carolina’s response was watery.
“Tell me what happened.”
Once again Carolina went through her mother’s seizure. As she finished, Sage came in. Dr. Laster raised her eyebrows.
Carolina said, “This is my friend Sage.”
He handed Carolina an open bottle of water and a sandwich. “Would you like me to leave?”
“Just for her examination,” Dr. Laster said.
Sage and Carolina waited outside the door. “Thank you,” she said, taking a bite of the sandwich.
“I didn’t know what you liked.” He smiled. “I thought ham and cheese would be better than tuna fish out of a vending machine.”
“It’s fine.” She couldn’t taste anything anyway.
“You can come back in,” Dr. Laster said from the doorway.
Sage settled her in the chair and stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.
“Here’s the plan,” Dr. Laster said. “She’ll have an MRI. Once she’s conscious, I want a neurologist to see her.”
Carolina nodded. “Will she be able to go home?”
“We’ll see.” Dr. Laster patted Mamá’s hand and headed out the door.
Carolina and Sage waited. And talked. When her mother was wheeled down for her MRI, they walked along the quiet corridors behind her gurney. Each time they passed under a bright light, he winced.
She asked, “How’s your head?”
“My head?”
“You’re hurting.”
He started to nod but grimaced and stopped. “I’ve got my meds if it gets too bad.”
Even though she wanted him to stay, she said, “You should go home.”
“I’m good.” He took her hand and laced their fingers together. “I want to help you.”
“Thank you for being here,” she said.
“It’s no big deal.”
But it was to her. She wasn’t alone. She had someone to lean on. She wouldn’t mind him holding her until her mother was better.
The tech directed them to a small waiting room. They sat next to each other on the sofa.
“This will go down as my most unusual first date ever,” he said.
“Date?” She looked up at him and got lost in his green gaze. “I like you, but because of my mother, I don’t think I have time to date.”
“I know we don’t know each other very well, but I want that to change.” He stroked a finger down her cheek. “No pressure. I’m here to help.”
He tugged her so her head rested on his shoulder. “Any help or comfort you need, I’m your guy.”
Her body melted into his.
When her mother had first gone through breast cancer treatment, Carolina had been alone. Could she accept his help?
A different tech, female this time, walked in. “Agent Cornell?”
Agent?
Sage straightened but kept his arm around Carolina. “Yes?”
“How are you doing?” The blonde put a hand on his arm.
“Do I know you?” he asked.
The tech giggled. Giggled! “I did your MRI—twice. Just a couple of weeks ago.”
He’d had MRIs? Carolina’s breath rushed out. Did he have cancer, too?
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I don’t remember.”
“Of course you don’t.” The tech still hadn’t removed her hand from Sage’s biceps. “How are the headaches?”
Sage didn’t answer. “Are you here to tell Ms. Castillo about her mother?”
“Oh, yes.” The tech straightened, her hand dropping away. “She’ll be done in a few minutes. Then they’ll compare this scan to her last one. You can wait in her exam room.”
“Did she wake?” Carolina asked.
“I thought she had for a moment, but she’s not conscious now. The good news is that she hasn’t had another seizure.”
Well,
