The books changed too. Eli finished The Secret Garden, then read Charlotte’s Web, Winnie-the-Pooh, and a stack of fairy tales. Michael joined on Thursdays after his shift. He always removed his badge before sitting beside Rook, as though he wanted to arrive as a son rather than a nurse.
They spoke cautiously.
At first, only about Lucy.
Then about engines.
Then about Michael’s daughter, Grace.
Rook learned she loved dinosaurs and hated mashed potatoes. Michael learned that Rook kept her baptism invitation inside his toolbox.
An apology finally came during a rainy February night.
Rook was repairing the clasp on Rosie’s yellow ribbon while Michael checked Lucy’s chart.
“I was wrong,” Rook said.
Michael stopped writing.
Rook kept his eyes on the ribbon. “About nursing. About the club. About all of it.”
It was not eloquent.
It worked.
Michael sat beside him.
Neither hugged. The Mercers did not solve four years with a single gesture. They remained in the room together after Eli left, and that was enough for the first night.
