“I . . . I need a cigarette,” Brynnie admitted and eyed the No Smoking sign with distaste. “You know, nowadays, they make you feel like a criminal just because you need a little hit of nicotine. Big deal.”

“Well, this is a health-care facility.”

“Yeah, I know. And I’ve tried to quit, but old habits die hard. Even the ones that will kill you.” She laughed again, coughed a bit and patted the edge of a tissue against the corners of her eyes.

“Go ahead. I’ll wait in here,” Bliss said, relieved that Brynnie seemed to be calming a bit. “If there’s any news I’ll come find you.”

“Promise?”

“Absolutely.”

As Brynnie walked outside, Mason said a few words to Dee Dee, then crossed the room. He hitched his chin toward the windows and beyond, where Brynnie was rifling through her purse. “She’s not so bad, now, is she?” he asked.

“Brynnie?” Bliss sighed as she watched Brynnie shake out a cigarette and light it with trembling hands. “No. I guess not. She loves Dad.” Bliss bit her lower lip. “That much is obvious. And Mom is gone, but . . . I had this belief that marriage should last forever, that two people could be faithful for a lifetime, that . . . Oh, I don’t know.” She shook her head. Right now, nothing mattered except her father’s health.

Mason rubbed his jaw. “I would never have guessed you for a romantic.”

“I’m not a—Look, I just believe in commitment.”

“Hard to come by these days.”

She cringed inside because she knew he was telling the truth. “People just don’t try hard enough.”

He eyed her speculatively, but didn’t say a word, and she suspected he thought her incredibly naive. So let him. She had her convictions.

The woman with the sleeping baby was called into one of the rooms. She disappeared for a few minutes, then returned not only with the infant, but also with a girl of about twelve with a cast that ran from her fingers to her shoulder on her right arm.

“Ms. Cawthorne?” a nurse paged.

“Just a minute.”

“I’ll wait out here with Dee Dee,” Mason said.

Bliss waved to Brynnie, who took one last drag and stuffed her cigarette into the sand of an ash can filled with other used cigarettes. She hurried inside. “Come on, I think they’re going to let us see Dad now,” Bliss said, shepherding the older woman down a short hallway to a bed surrounded by hanging sheets.

Her father, pale and gaunt, eyes slightly sunken, lay staring at the ceiling. His thin hair was mussed, his expression grim and angry. “What the hell am I doin’ here?” he demanded.