The invitation was as unexpected as his visit. But also surprisingly welcome. “Maybe I will.”
“It was nice meeting you, Emily,” he called toward the bedrooms.
“You too!” Emily stuck her head out of her room and returned his wave.
Vivienne closed the door behind him and carried the bag to the counter. After filling the kettle and putting it on the stove, she acknowledged Emily’s giddy smile. “Go ahead and say it.”
Emily poked through the paper bag on the counter. “I’d take Doctor Alex’s care package any day.”
“Emily!” She swatted her with a snowflake dish towel. The ensuing laughter started a fit of coughing. When that subsided, she sliced the lemon and squeezed it into her empty mug. The tangy citrus scent was the first thing Vivienne had been able to smell in days.
“What?” Emily sniggered. “If I had a doctor who looked like him, I could see myself getting sick a lot.”
“Tell me about it.” The kettle whistled; Vivienne lifted it from the stovetop. “My doctor in Ohio was old, overweight, and balding.”
“It sounds like we had the same doctor.” Emily rubbed her hands down her cheeks. “It’s a pity we don’t see more stubble in Neverland. Could you imagine Deacon with a beard?”
Deacon with stubble that would scratch her neck when he—Okay. She needed to get a grip. The honey oozed into her mug, and she added hot water before stirring it with a spoon from a set of reindeer cutlery. “Do you think me stopping by to see Alex at work would give him the wrong idea?”
“Define wrong idea.”
“That I’m interested in him, or whatever.”
“Because you’re not.”
“Definitely not.” Vivienne punched a pill from the blister pack. She wasn’t interested in him . . . was she?
He was cute and smart and funny and—
Okay. Maybe she was a little interested in him.
By Monday, the care package was empty, and Vivienne could finally breathe through her nose. “Are you ready yet, or do you need to change outfits again?” she called toward Emily’s room before checking her watch . . . again.
According to Emily, mid-morning was the most unromantic time to visit someone.
Early morning could give Alex the impression that Vivienne had been up all night thinking about him and couldn’t wait any longer to visit.
And lunch time breached the no-meals-together rule they’d made over the weekend.
Any later in the day could spill over into dinnertime, and when darkness fell, all bets were off.
Bringing Emily along as her buffer would let Alex know she was only there to thank him again for the medicine and let him know that she was no longer on her deathbed.
“Sure am!” Emily twirled down the hall in a dark blue sweater that made her face look brighter than usual. She tapped her fingers on the ceiling snowflakes. “Does Alex know we’re coming or are we surprising him?”
“I’d let him know, but I don’t have his—” There was an older man standing in the hallway outside their apartment, squeezing a black baseball cap in his hands. “Can I help you?”
His brows came together and he took a halting step forward. “Is Emily home?”
“Who is it?” Emily said, unplugging the Christmas tree. “If it’s Max, tell him—Dad? Why’re you on campus?” She crossed her arms; it looked like she was hugging herself.
“Come in, Mr. Liller.” Vivienne moved aside to let Emily’s father into the apartment.
“Em…” He walked toward the living room but stopped before he reached the couch. “You haven’t returned any of our calls, and when you didn’t show up for Thanksgiving”—his shoulders slumped—“your mother and I were devastated.”
“I’m thinking I should go?” Vivienne searched Emily’s unreadable expression.
Emily nodded.
She could have waited for Emily, but there was no way of knowing how long her dad would be there—or if she would be in the mood to tag along afterward.
For the first time since she had gotten sick, Vivienne ran down the stairs. The snow from the week before had been shoveled into walls of white along the icy paths. Still, to avoid slipping on what was left, she flew to the Hall. The welcome heat inside left her removing layers on her way to the basement.
The door to the small access room was ajar—and still as creepy as it had been the first time she’d been down there. When she pulled on the cord attached to the light, the blue screen appeared. Vivienne scanned her eyes and waited. The screen turned red.
ACCESS DENIED
How the heck was she supposed to visit Alex if—
ACCESS GRANTED
The wall disappeared.
“Welcome back, Vivienne,” Robert greeted, his arms full of files. “Have you changed your mind about giving blood?”
“Actually, I’m here to see—”
“She’s here to see me,” Alex said from behind him, grinning from ear to ear. “At least, I hope she is.”
“Good for you, man.” Robert traded places with Vivienne and told them to have fun. The wall moved back into place, and he was gone.
“You’re looking awfully doctorly in your white coat, Dr. Alex.” However, the Beatles T-shirt beneath wasn’t quite as professional.
“I only wear it to impress the ladies,” he confessed, straightening the collar.
It was working.
“You look like you’re feeling a lot better. Your physician must be pretty amazing.”
“And modest too.”
He laughed and turned toward the wall of frosted windows. “I work back in the microbiology sector. Follow me.”
“Where is everyone?” There was only one other person at a desk in the center of the room, stuffing a bunch of wires into a small metal tube.
“Kensington is a ghost town between now and New Year’s.” He scanned his hand on a blue screen outside the doors, and when the door unlocked, he held it open for her. “Which means I get a lot more work done and I don’t have to wait in line for equipment.”
Five pentagon-shaped desks with drawers on each side had been spaced evenly around the long room; some had microscopes, slides, and petri dishes on top, others had trays of test tubes and vials of different colored liquids. The furthest desk had a computer screen attached to a box the size of a dryer.
A long counter lit by LEDs wrapped around the perimeter. Part of the counter was covered in glass, with holes at the bottom as wide as a person’s arms, while another section housed square devices with buttons and lights and dials—some big, others small, some silent, others humming.
Vivienne had no clue what any of them did, but they looked complicated. “This looks like the set from a crime scene investigation show.”
“It basically is.” He handed her a lab coat from a hook inside the door. “This’ll make you seem more official. Did I hear Robert say you didn’t give blood?”
“Yeah.” She slipped out of her winter jacket and into the white coat. After rolling up the sleeves, she went with him to the closest desk. “They asked us on day one, and I wasn’t so sure about all of this at the time. I don’t really see what the big deal is. Emily and Max gave their DNA.”