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Lowering her voice, Tala says, “And remember, this stays between us.”
What stays between them?
“Of course,” he answers, pretending to zip his lips and throw away the key. Somehow, the movement of his hand startles him, and he jumps a bit, then stares down at the floor where the imaginary key would’ve landed.
She glances at me and mutters, “No more drugs for him for a few hours.”
As soon as she leaves, Hudson reaches up and pushes the table toward me. “Your dinner, milady.”
Shaking my head, I say, “I can’t eat your supper. That’s for you.”
“No, it’s for you. There’s no way I can eat right now, not with the way I’m feeling. But I figured you might be hungry.”
“You did?” I ask, getting a waft of something that reminds me of Chipotle.
“Yeah, scoring you some food is the least I can do since you’ve blown a whole day watching me sleep. Dig in.”
I stare at the tray, which holds what looks like some sort of chicken, beans, and rice bowl, a small bowl of tortilla chips with salsa, a chocolate pudding, and a glass of what I’m pretty sure is ginger ale. “What if we split it? Or we save it for you in case you get hungry later?”
“How about this? I’ll take the ginger ale, you have the rest, and if I get hungry later, I promise I’ll tell you.”
“Deal,” I tell him, standing and pushing the table toward him so he can reach the drink. I take the bowl and fork off the tray and sit back down to eat it while he has a sip of his ginger ale.
His phone buzzes and he reaches over and plucks it off the bedside table. “It’s my mom. I should take this.”
“Do you want me to leave?” I kind of want to leave. His parents made me uneasy when I spoke to them earlier. They’re both super formal and they kept going on and on about the paperwork, wanting to make sure I filled everything out so Hudson wouldn’t have to do it. Seriously strange. Who cares about paperwork when their son’s life is hanging in the balance?
“No, definitely stay,” he says before he answers her call. “Hey, Mom, how are you?” Pause. “Oh, Dad’s there too and you’ve got me on speaker phone? Great.” He gives me a ‘this should be fun’ face. “I’ve had better days, but in the big scheme of things, I’m all right.” Pause. “Yeah, I know, but I thought it was a tarantula.” He has another sip while he listens to her. “No, definitely don’t get on a plane and come here. I’m fine. Honestly. I told Gersh not to bother coming back either. It’s all good.” Pause. “I’m pretty sure Allie took care of all the forms.”
Again with the forms?
He gives me a questioning look and I nod. “Yup, it’s all taken care of.”
I eat quickly, glad that he’s distracted by the call instead of staring at me while I shovel food into my mouth. Mmm, not half bad for hospital food. Although I haven’t eaten since breakfast so I’m pretty sure I’d happily scarf down stale bread and cold baked beans right now.
“Don’t believe everything they say on television. They’re just trying to turn it into a bigger story than it is.” He smiles at me for a second and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but I did get to the hospital on time.”
I set the empty bowl on the tray and stare at the pudding for a second. Should I eat the pudding? I really want to eat the pudding.
As if he can read my mind, Hudson gestures for me to take it and mouths, “Eat the pudding.”
I mouth back, “Are you sure?”
Nodding, he says, “No, the movie is about an astronomer so I’m pretty sure I won’t be in any danger. Wait, I’ll put you on speaker phone so you can hear it from the real deal.” Pause. “Yeah, she’s still here. She stayed with me the whole day so you’ve got nothing to worry about. They’re taking good care of me.”
He presses the screen on his phone, then holds the phone closer to me. “Allie, tell them there won’t be any more dangerous animals.”
“I promise there won’t be any more dangerous animals. Well, unless your son buys me another fruit basket,” I say, feeling super awkward.
“How’s he really doing?” Hudson’s mom, Dolores, asks. “Is he as okay as he says he is?”
“He’s doing really well. He’s actually been sitting up drinking ginger ale and chatting with me about life,” I tell her, noticing how very green his eyes are. They’re like a bed of moss in a sunlit forest. Oh wow, I’m losing it.
“When will they let you go home?” Douglas, his father, asks.
“Not sure,” he says. “I’m guessing they’re going to keep me until tomorrow.”
“Well, if they do let you go home tonight, I don’t want you to be alone,” Dolores says. “Allie, is there somewhere he can stay the night?”
