“He’s been our neighbor since I was little. He and his mom have always lived there. He’s known my dad forever. Up here, a tragedy happens to everyone. We’d do the same for them.”
She returned to her staring. Bass’s and Isaac’s eyes met, and Bass’s face said it all. He felt bad for her, too, and scared for Einars. His small hand reached out and patted Sanna’s leg, doing what Isaac wished he could.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Compared to the vibrant greens and earthy browns of the orchard, the hospital in Sturgeon Bay was blindingly white as Isaac led their haphazard group into the building. No natural light made it to the corridor as he, Sanna, and Bass hustled to the emergency waiting room with the neighbor close behind them. All signs of Sanna’s shock were gone as she stormed through the doors even more no-nonsense than her usual self. He was in awe of her.
Sanna stopped in front of the main desk and even before she could ask, the woman working Registration whispered to them.
“I can’t officially tell you anything, but the EMTs said your dad’ll be fine. The doctors need to patch him up a bit, he lost a lot of blood, and you’re going to probably need to tie him down so he can heal properly. Lord knows that man doesn’t know how to sit still.”
“Oh, thank God. Thank you, May,” Sanna said, unsurprised by this unsolicited influx of information. Isaac assumed that like so many in this small community, they knew each other. She turned to the area behind them, then back to May. “Where should we wait?”
“There’s a room down the hall. I’ll make sure the doctors know where to find you.”
They had the room to themselves. Maroon cloth chairs and muted green wallpaper were a feeble attempt to seem homey, but the piles of dog-eared magazines and antibacterial sanitizer dispensers hanging on the wall made it impossible to forget where they were. Isaac had moved to sit in one of the chairs when Thad grabbed his arm.
“Who are you?”
Before Isaac could answer, Sanna walked through them and said over her shoulder, “Isaac, Thad. Thad, Isaac.” Before the silence stretched into full-blown awkward, Isaac thrust his hand out—he may as well be polite. Thad took it more firmly than necessary—using his flat brown eyes to bore into Isaac’s, clearly taking his measure. Isaac added an extra-firm squeeze before disengaging.
“You’re the new help? He never hires help this early in the year,” Thad said, though it came out as more of an accusation with a small bite on the end, like a harmless dog snapping at an intruder from behind his owner’s legs. Thad’s eyes roved over him, and Isaac resisted the urge to stretch his height. He didn’t need to prove anything to this clown.
“We started yesterday. The Lunds have really welcomed us, almost like family.” That last bit might not be entirely true, but he couldn’t resist.
Thad visibly bristled. “I’ve known them all my life. Sanna and I have been dating since college.”
“Oh? She hadn’t mentioned you.” Isaac’s chest sank a bit, even as he knew Thad was trying to goad him and it had worked. He glanced to where Sanna sat under a print of a lighthouse and rocky shore, oblivious to their posturing. Bass sat next to her, kicking lazily at the nearest leg on a coffee table. This was the first indication of a man in her life other than Einars, but what did he expect? Of course a woman like her would have a special someone.
“Want something to drink? I saw a machine around the corner,” Isaac said to Sanna.
“I’ll take a tea if they have it—any kind.”
“Can I get hot cocoa?” piped up Bass.
“Sure, Minnow.”
Isaac hurried to buy the drinks, not wanting to leave Bass and Sanna alone with Thad for too long. He found the machine tucked into an alcove down the hall. He tapped his foot as he waited for each drink to fill, trying not to fixate on what could be happening back in the waiting room and knowing it wouldn’t take Bass long to get bored. As he entered the room, he saw his fear had been justified. Thad filled the chair next to Sanna’s, his wide frame overflowing into her space, his arm resting on the back of her seat. Bass stood in front of one of the hand sanitizer dispensers, a large foamy glob filling both his hands.
“Oops.” The glob wobbled like a water balloon in an earthquake.
“Here.” Sanna stood, held out her arms, and scooped some of the foam with her fingertips, then rubbed it onto her hands.
Bass offered his hand to Thad.
“Want some?”
Thad curled his lip. “No,” he said in a disgusted tone.
“Don’t be a jerk, Thad. He’s a good kid,” Sanna said.
“Well, that didn’t take long,” Isaac said, seeing Bass with the mound of hand sanitizer still resting in his hands. He passed a steaming paper cup to Sanna, scowled at Thad for being a dick to Bass, and set the other two cups on the table. Then he plucked a tissue from a nearby box and handed it to Bass. “Let’s keep the chaos to a level three in here, okay?”
Bass nodded and sat back down in the row of seats adjacent to Thad, wiping his hands of the excess foam. Sanna still stood, blowing on her tea. Isaac sat beside Bass and sipped his bitter coffee, wishing hospitals had found a way to have decent beverages for hospital waiting rooms. If they were in the hospital waiting room, loved ones already had enough to worry about without suffering crap drinks.
“Is Mr. Lund going to be okay?” Bass asked him quietly. “That was a lot of blood.”
Thad barked a laugh, and Sanna chose not to return to her seat next to him, but moved closer to Isaac.
“Sebastian Banks, that is not appropriate to talk about.” Isaac’s voice was sharper than usual. He glanced anxiously at Sanna, who didn’t need to be reminded of the scene on the gravel below the barn’s window. She waved him off.
“It’s fine. And it was way too much blood. I never want to see that again and I can’t stop thinking about it. But May said he’d be okay, and I trust her. Though I can’t understand how it’s possible. His leg and arm were going in directions they weren’t supposed to go. Will he walk again? Write again? Will he need blood? What about a wheelchair? I need to get back to the orchard. We have to spray the trees, and there are more bottles ready to be filled with cider I started in February. Teal. Should be juicy and satisfying. We need to graft some of the Looms onto new stock just in case they get decimated—but I can’t make it work. And the mower needs to be given a tune-up before it’s used this season, and it should be done this week or the grass will get too long.” Isaac had no idea Sanna even contained this many words, but he didn’t dare interrupt.