She didn’t have to exercise maximum self-control to respond, unlike actually talking to him. Either way, she wasn’t going to mention Luellen. She didn’t see any need to discuss her with Parr right now. Maybe ever.

Even though Bobby Joe was sound asleep, she stepped outside the room.

Mary Beth tapped the screen to pick up the message.

Hey. I’m in Iminga. You back at the hospital?

She thought about not replying. That wasn’t an option. They were still a team.

Yes.

A few seconds passed.

I’m sorry. Truce?

She slid down in the chair that had been left unoccupied in the hall.

Okay.

Got good news about BJ.

Tap tap. Tell me. Am with him now. She waited.

Do we have to text? Is he sleeping?

She peeked into the room. Parr didn’t have to know she wasn’t right by the bed.

Yes.

Talked to BJ’s neuro. That was text-ese for neurologist. Abbreviations helped with so many specialists involved in Bobby Joe’s and Alma’s care. He could be out in a month.

Mary Beth typed a response. That’s not much time.

Much less than they would probably need, in fact. His next text made that painfully clear.

My mother’s doctor says with the right setup she could be home in two weeks.

Mary Beth knew how much Alma wanted to get out of the hospital, but it would take a major effort to be ready in time.

Lots to do first.

He took a little while to reply. I know. But kitchen’s almost done. New stair lift, grab bars, a recliner that will get her on her feet—I’m making a list.

On her feet—Mary Beth’s eyes widened. Is she walking, Parr?

Took her first steps this afternoon between the balance bars. Physical therapist was impressed.

While Mary Beth had been gone. She regretted missing the great moment. The quarrel in the parking lot receded and seemed a lot less important.

Can’t wait to tell Bobby Joe when he wakes up.

Wish I was there.

Mary Beth could practically hear Parr sigh. But she preferred not to be subject to the influence of his voice. He had an unfair advantage there.

Talk to u later.

Okay.

She went back into the room and sat beside Bobby Joe. He looked so peaceful; waking him up for any reason seemed like a crime. It was enough that she was there.

His head turned to one side on the pillow and his eyelashes fluttered almost invisibly, as if he were seeing something in his dreams.

Mary Beth murmured soothingly and he settled down again. The tent over his healing leg was taut. The covers were draped uniformly over each side of the bed. He didn’t seem cold, but she draped a smaller, thin blanket over his shoulder, the one nearest to her, just in case. He stirred in his sleep.