Hidden in the Blood: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 5)

Chapter Twenty-One: Al, Sunday

"Al?" 

He cracked open his eyes, not wanting to wake up but knowing he needed to in order to reassure the people he loved that he was out of the well. He was always sleepy, though, and he hoped this wouldn't be his lot now that he was back. He had a wife and children depending on him, a job he needed to get back to.

He saw Rachel, Lauren and Emma looking down at him. "Hey," he croaked, his throat feeling like gravel.

"Need some ice chips?" Rachel asked, spooning some into his mouth.

He crunched on them and got some much needed hydration. "Thank you. I feel like I can talk now."

Emma crept forward and placed a gentle hand on his cheek. "Hi, Al," she said.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, tearing up. "It's nice to see you again."

"Your cheek is scratchy."

He chuckled. "I know. I need a shave."

She beamed, her eyes huge and shining behind her thick lenses, and said, "I'm glad you're awake, now."

"Me too. Where's Logan?"

"Watching Naomi and Tosh at home because Joe's seeing his brother."

Al knew what that meant, but wouldn't let on to his teenage daughter what Joe really got up to when he left to see his brother. "Ah, yes, he does that every Sunday."

"Logan hasn't come to see you much. I think he doesn't like hospitals."

"I don't blame him."

"We talked to the doctors," Rachel said. "They said your MRI went well."

"Yes. I didn't care much for the tight fit. I guess I'm a little claustrophobic." He looked at Lauren and said, "You took off your neck brace."

She smiled, those dimples of hers popping, and said, "Yeah, I thought I'd rip the band-aid off and see. It feels pretty good. Now I'm going to see if I can get a boot for this cast and use a walking stick to get around. I hate these crutches."

"Good for you. I still can't remember much about what happened."

Lauren looked at Rachel, and Rachel cleared her throat and said, "About that. Lauren needs to talk to you in private. Emma, can I take you out of the room for a minute?"

Emma nodded and said, "Okay, but I want to see him again before we go."

"Deal."

Al watched them leave and then stared up at Lauren. "What's going on?"

She hobbled up to his bed and sat gently on the edge, holding her crutches in one hand and placing her other on his chest. "Do you remember," she asked, "when we were at Centennial Lodge, at the art auction?"

"Yeah, actually. I can't remember if we won any of the pieces we bid on."

She blinked in surprise. "Oh! Yeah, actually, we all won one or two of them, so you have something to put up in your new place. Sunny got the one with the Queensborough Bridge, can you believe it?" 

"That selfish bastard," he said, chuckling. "He sees that bridge from his window every day."

"I know!" she said with exaggerated irritation. Then she cleared her throat and said, "Do you remember when you told me you loved me?"

He smiled and placed a hand over hers. "I remember. I still do, no question."

Her chin quivered. "Oh," she breathed, then leaned in to kiss him gently on the lips, and now he was in the privileged position of tasting her tears for a change. "I love you too. You have no idea how much I had to hold myself back when I saw you awake for the first time yesterday; I thought my heart would burst out of my chest."