Frank’s face lit up. “Look who is here!” he exclaimed, pushing himself up in the bed.
Holding the door open for Rhys, we stepped inside. The room could have doubled for a florists with all the Get Well Soon flowers and balloons. I knew Abby and Lily had gone a little overboard on sending daily reminders to Frank about how much he was loved and missed.
I stepped over to the bed. “Hey old man, how you holding up?” I questioned, leaning over to hug Frank’s neck.
Wagging a finger at me, he replied, “Almost good enough to smack you upside the head for calling me ‘old man’!”
I chuckled as I pulled away. “You look a helluva lot better than the last time we saw you.”
“I know. I feel a lot better too.”
Rhys stepped forward to hug Frank. “Bray, Lily, and Abby are coming by to see you in a little while, but Jake…” Rhys grimaced.
Frank smiled knowingly. “I understand. He’s gun-shy between what happened with Abby’s attack and poor Susan’s illness. It’s only been six months, so it makes total sense that hospitals and illness spook him.” He waved his IV-clad hand dismissively. “Besides, he doesn’t need to come by and see me. Hell, he called Rob three or four times a day when I was in the CCU, and I’ve talked to him several times.”
My brows rose in surprise. “Really?”
“Yep.”
“He didn’t tell us that,” Rhys replied.
“He probably didn’t tell you that he put me on three months paid leave either, did he?”
Rhys and I exchanged a glance before shaking our heads in unison.
Frank smiled. “He wants me to rest completely and be in the best shape possible to take my old job back.”
“Jackass coulda told us all this,” I grumbled.
“You know Jake well enough by now not to assume that.”
“True.”
Frank sniffed the air appreciatively while a curious grin spread on his lips. “Is that the Varsity I smell?”
Rhys laughed. “It sure as hell is. We figured they were starving you to death with shitty hospital food, so AJ and I decided to get you some of your favorites.” Digging in the bag, Rhys produced the Varsity’s familiar red box with a football player on the front.
Closing his eyes in bliss, Frank said, “Chili dogs, fries, and onion rings, right?”
“Oh yeah.” Taking the box from Rhys, I added with my best French accent, “And for the Pièce de résistance—a fried peach pie.”
I set the food box on the standard hospital table in front of Frank. He lifted the lid and inhaled the deliciously greasy aroma. “Mmm, mmm, you boys are amazing.”
Holding up a finger, I said, “Ah, but we’re not done yet. Show him, Rhys.”
He nodded before his hand disappeared into the bag. “Your favorite drink—a Frosted Orange.”
“We kept it in a cooler so it wouldn’t melt,” I added.
Frank shook his head with a grin. “You two thought of everything.”
“Beats flowers, doesn’t it?” I questioned.
“Sure as hell does.” A look of shame flickered on his face. “But don’t tell Abby and Lily that I said that. For some reason, those two gals think a gruff, old widower like myself needs daily flowers and balloons. Not even my daughters-in-law do that shit.”
Rhys and I laughed. “It’ll be our little secret,” I replied.