Shane

“Don’t do it, honey,” forty-eight-year-old Renee Casseri urged her son. “I can tell by the way you talk about her that your interest is beyond professional.” Damn, thought Shane. What was it with him and his transparent feelings all of a sudden? “Mom, I’m just doing her a favor.” “Are you?” Shane sighed with exasperation. He loved his mother dearly, but she sure could get overly protective of him at times. “Mom, what do you want me to say?” “Don’t say anything. Listen to me instead.” The almost petite and athletic woman counted her arguments on her fingers. “She just lost her husband. You know next to nothing about her, FBI agent or not. And you don’t even know if she likes you in return.” No, I don’t,he thought to himself. But she had that look in her eyes at times that surely made him wonder. “Worst case scenario is that she decides she doesn’t like being out here and she returns to the city.” “No, the worst case scenario is that she leaves you with a broken heart. Why her, anyway? She’s too old for you, hun.” “Says the woman who always preaches that age is just a number.” “Most of the time it is. But everything has its exceptions, Shane. She’s thirteen years older than you.” “So?” “So, say you two eventually did get serious. What’s that leave you?” “A happy guy, I’d hope.” “And then a widower. Women typically live five years longer than men, but you might still have around a decade or so in the end where you could be alone.” Shane shook his head and laughed. “Mom, I get that you’re just looking out for me and I love you for it, but you’re a nurse. You of all people know that anyone can die at any time. What if I were killed on the job in a few years? What if she were killed in a car accident?” Renee surrendered. “Well, it’s your life, hun. There’s nothing I want more than for you to be happy.” Shane dutifully kissed his mother goodbye soon afterward and headed back to his trailer to be alone with his thoughts – and hopes – for getting Markayla out of the house she was currently holed up in. He got into his car and drove to the house. Showing his ID through the cracked door, a woman then shut the door, slid the chain off, and opened it. “Hello,” said the young blonde. “Hello. And you are?” “Emily.” “Is Markayla here, Emily?” Shane asked. “The New Mexican woman?” Shane nodded. “No, she was readmitted to the hospital.” Shane felt his stomach flip-flop. “Readmitted?” Emily nodded. “Any idea why?” “Some kind of infection,” Emily shrugged as if it was no big deal. “Something about her heart too, I think.” Shane’s pulse took off on a run as he turned to head for his car, thanking the girl for the info along the way. He arrived, tires screeching, and parked in the visitor’s parking lot. It was getting dark out. He hurriedly entered and went to the information desk. “I’m looking for a patient,” he said to a black woman with droopy eyelids and a snotty tone. “Visiting hours are over.” Shane flashed his credentials. “I need to know where Markayla Seymour is. It’s very important. There should be a police officer assigned to guard her. Notify them first, if you must.” “Ok, hang on,” said the woman, picking up the phone as if he’d just asked the world of her. Of course, she’d be by the book and make him wait longer. Then again, extra precaution was what she should be taking anyway, rather than just letting anyone through, since anyone could impersonate law enforcement. Droopy Eyes put the phone down. “Third floor, room 330.” “Thank you, ma’am,” Shane said, pushing off the tall counter and heading for the elevator. Once the doors parted, he recognized Officer Quinn Pratt, a plump redhead who hadn’t been on the force for long but wasn’t quite a rookie anymore either. She glanced up at him, wavy ponytail swinging with the motion. “Hey, Agent Casseri. What brings you by?” “Just genuine curiosity, Pratt. She ok?” Pratt nodded. “Far as I know. I guess her wound got infected.” “Her housemate said something about her heart.” Pratt shrugged. “I guess that was just anxiety or something. She’s awake. Go on in and talk to her.” Shane stepped into the hospital room. He felt more confident than self-conscious, but mostly concerned and curious as to what had happened. Markayla was perched against a pillow, reading a magazine. Her long, dark hair framed her face. “Hey,” he said softly. Markayla glanced up. Surprise flicked across her ebony eyes. “Shane. What are you doing here?” “Heard the news and got concerned.” “Oh, yeah?” Markayla said with a slight smile as she set the magazine down in her lap. “Well, I’ll definitely live.” “I heard something about an infection and your heart.” “My heart is fine. I’ve just been horribly stressed out. The thing they were worried about was that my wound opened up and started bleeding. They’re worried about it getting infected, so they threw in a few new stitches and are keeping me overnight for observation. Definitely got a little anxious, though, when I stepped out of the shower and saw the blood running down my arm.” “I’ll bet,” said Shane. Markayla sighed heavily. Shane could tell she was depressed. She studied him a moment and then said, “You look great all dressed up in your nice suit. Special occasion?” Shane laughed, glancing down at his gray suit, white dress shirt, and maroon tie. “Uh, no. Definitely wouldn’t call a late meeting special.” They chatted a bit more before he turned to leave, and Shane found himself wishing he could make her feel better. His visit seemed to perk her up a bit, but he knew she was still hurting both physically and emotionally. She had to be. She’d been through so damn much.