“No, it’s all right, I’m just jumpy.” She took a deep breath and gave me a half-smile. Then her eyes studied my face, and her expression changed. “Are—uh—you’re Jack Harrington, right?” I nodded sheepishly. I realized that until now I had somehow managed to go unrecognized all evening, and I couldn’t imagine how. She let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “I’m sorry, you must be sick of that; it just surprised me, that’s all.”

“That’s all right; you’re the first person to have noticed all night, so hey, bonus points for you.” We chuckled a bit, and the machine beeped to remind her that her coffee was done. She wrapped her hands around the cup and plugged in a couple more coins. I took a breath. “Look, I’m sorry to approach you like this, but I think the woman you’re here to see is the woman I was in the accident with. Her car hit me from behind, and I was with her before the ambulances came. They won’t tell me how she is because I’m not family, but I wanted to make sure she was all right. Would you mind just letting me know what’s going on?”

The machine finished pouring her second drink, and she spoke as she snapped a plastic lid on its top. “Um … yeah.” She took a deep breath. “Collapsed lung, concussion, broken arm, broken leg, sprained neck. They seem to think she’ll be all right, though.” She stared down at the coffee cups in her hands as she spoke, and when she looked up there were tears on her cheeks. She tried to wipe them with the backs of her hands, still clutching the coffees. “Sorry,” she murmured, her face reddening.

“No reason to be, believe me. I’m glad it looks like she’ll be okay. Thanks for telling me.

“Oh … I’m Missy. My mom, Jane, and I are good friends with Grace. She doesn’t have family out here in California, and we’ve kind of hooked her into ours. Grace was on the way home from our Bible study tonight. I didn’t even know she’d listed us as emergency contacts; they said she had it written in her appointment book.”

I nodded, not knowing what to say. Finally I realized she was waiting for me to say something, so I stood back and nodded toward the hall. “Your mom is probably dying for her coffee.” I winced at the inappropriate phrasing, but Missy didn’t seem to notice. “When Grace wakes up, tell her I’ll try to stop by and see how she’s doing.”

Missy smiled. “That’s so sweet of you. I will tell her for sure. Thank you.”