“Hi, Grandpa,” she said.
“Rough night, wasn’t it?” he replied, seeing the concern in her eyes. “Are you all right, Nest?”
“I’m fine.” She sat next to him on the bed. “How about you?”
“Stiff and sore, but I’ll live. You heard what happened, I suppose?”
She nodded. “This guy was trying to blow up the fireworks and you stopped him.” She took his hand in hers. “My grandpa, the hero.”
“Well, I didn’t stop him, matter of fact. He stopped himself. All I did, come right down to it, was to make sure people knew the truth about what he was trying to do. Maybe it will help ease tensions a little.” He paused. “They tell you how long I’m going to be here?”
She shook her head. “They haven’t told me anything.”
“Well, there’s not much to tell. I’ll be fine in a day or two, but they might keep me here a week. I guess they plan to let me out for your grandmother’s funeral. Doctor says so, anyway.” He paused. “Will you be all right without me? Do you want me to call someone? Maybe you could go stay with the Minters.”
“Grandpa, don’t worry, I’m fine,” she said quickly. “I can take care of myself.”
He studied her a moment. “I know that.” He glanced at his nightstand. “Would you hand me a cup of water, please?”
She did, and he took a long drink, lifting his head only slightly from the pillows. The room was white and still, and she could hear the murmur of voices from the hall outside. Through cracks in the window blinds, she could see blue sky and sunlight.
When her grandfather was finished with the water, he looked at her again, his eyes uneasy. “Did you run into your father out there last night?”
Her throat tightened. She nodded.
“Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head. “He tried to persuade me to come with him, like John Ross said he would. He threatened me. But I told him I wasn’t coming and he couldn’t make me.” Her brow furrowed. “So he gave up and went away.”
Her grandfather studied her. “Just like that? Off he went, back to poisoning trees in the park?”
“Well, no.” She realized how ridiculous it sounded. She looked out the window, thinking. “He didn’t just go off. It’s kind of hard to explain, actually.” She hesitated, not sure where to go. “I had some help.”
Her grandfather kept staring at her, but she had nothing left to say. Finally, he nodded. “Maybe you’ll fill me in on the details sometime. When you think I’m up to it.”
She looked back at him. “I forgot something. He told me about Gran. He said he tried to come after me, and she chased him off with the shotgun.” She watched her grandfather’s eyes. “So she wasn’t just shooting at nothing.”
He nodded again, solemn, introspective. “That’s good to know, Nest. I appreciate you telling me. I thought it must be something like that. I was pretty sure.”
He closed his eyes momentarily, and Nest exhaled slowly. No one spoke for a moment. Then Nest said, “Grandpa, I was wondering.” She waited until he opened his eyes again. “You know about Jared Scott?” Her grandfather nodded. “They took his brothers and sisters away afterward. Mrs. Walker says they’re going to be put in foster care. I was wondering if, maybe after you’re home again, we could see if Bennett Scott could come stay with us.”
She bit her lip against the sudden dampness in her eyes. “She’s pretty little to be with strangers, Grandpa.”
Her grandfather nodded, and his hand tightened about hers. “I think that would be fine, Nest,” he said quietly. “We’ll look into it.”
She went home again when her grandfather fell back asleep, walking the entire way from the hospital, needing the time alone. The sun shone brightly out of a cloudless sky, and the temperature had fallen just enough that the air was warm without being humid. She wondered if it was anything like this where John Ross had gone.
The house was quiet and empty when she arrived home. The casseroles and tins were gone from the kitchen, picked up by Reverend Ernery, who had left a nice note for her on the counter saying he would stop by the hospital to visit her grandfather that night. She drank a can of root beer, sitting on the back porch steps with Mr. Scratch, who lay sprawled out at her feet, oblivious of everything. She looked off into the park frequently, but made no move to go into it. Pick would be at work there, healing the scarred landscape of the deep woods. Maybe she would look for him tomorrow.