Page 103 of The Love Operation

Me: Yep. Sent my PA home at ten, so still got to put orders in. Then finding something greasy enough to soak through the bag and shoving it in my mouth. Stale lounge bagels ain’t gonna cut it. Why are you up?

Benedict: Can’t really sleep with nurses coming in at all hours.

Me: How’s your dad?

Benedict: Once the Dilaudid wore off, he was still doing okay. Not stick-a-finger-in-your-nose cheerful, but definitely better. Thanks to you.

Me: I am pretty great, aren’t I?

Benedict: The best. And pretty tired, too.

Me: How can you tell? I’m mostly hungry, actually.

And maybe something else, too, but I can’t tell him that. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if I did.

Benedict: You always got mouthier when you were tired. Can sense that in your texts. I recall other things happening to you as well, but I won’t embarrass you.

Me: Ha! You think you can embarrass me right now? Think again, buddy.

Benedict: Hey, don’t leave the hospital without telling me, okay?

Me: Why?

Benedict: What door do you leave out of?

Me: Do not meet me. I need food. If you slow me down, I will hurt you. Don’t need that on my conscience, too.

Benedict: What other things are on your conscience, and what kind of car do you drive?

Me: Why?

Benedict: You are so difficult.

Me: You are so weirdly vague.

Benedict: I’m going to leave a candy bar on your windshield. You still like Snickers?

Me: Are lizards the best pet on the planet?

Benedict: Is this a trick question?

Me: Umm . . . no? I’ll make it easy for your simple mind: Yes, I like Snickers. (Not capable of turning one down right now.) Black Audi A4—doctors’ lot behind the hospital. Custom magnet on the back shows relative disc pressures in various spinal positions.

Benedict: I don’t even know how to respond to that.

Me: With jealousy?

Benedict: That’s definitely what I’m feeling inside.

Me: Thanks for the Snickers bar. I owe you.

Benedict: You operated on my dad’s spine. I think we’re even.

Me: Still feels like I’m getting the better end of the deal. But okay.

The texts stop there.

It takes me too long to finish my orders, but eventually, I burst out of the hospital like a diver coming up for air. The night is cool and still, and all I can think about is sinking my teeth into chocolate, nougat, and whatever else makes a Snickers a food group.