Curse of the Jade Lily (Mac McKenzie #9)

Curse of the Jade Lily (Mac McKenzie #9) Page 69

I was sitting up, a plastic plate on top of the hospital’s roll-away overbed table and both positioned so that they were tight against my stomach. I had attempted to eat beef lo mein with chopsticks and failed miserably, so I switched to a fork. That didn’t work out any better. Most people lean over their plates when they eat, only leaning forward was suddenly a painful practice for me. So I tried to eat while keeping my back straight, tilting my head down, and bringing the fork to my mouth instead of meeting it halfway. I kept spilling food all over the napkin I had tucked into the neckline of the hospital gown they had insisted I wear.

“Need any help?” Nina asked.

“No.”

Nina shrugged and continued to consume her kung pao chicken. She was sitting at a table near the window, her feet resting on a chair opposite her, eating directly from the white takeout carton. She didn’t have any problem at all working her chopsticks. Every once in a while she’d fish a cheese puff or a bite of egg roll from one of the other cartons arranged on the table.

“This sucks,” I said.

“You did say you wanted to lose a few pounds,” Nina said. “Here’s your chance.”

“I said I needed to work out more. I didn’t say anything about losing weight.”

Nina smiled.

“Do you think I need to lose some weight?’ I asked.

She smiled some more.

“This sucks,” I said.

“You’re the one who insists on visiting the dark side all the time.”

I didn’t like the tone of her voice, so I asked, “Are you mad at me?”

“No more than usual,” she said. “I’m tired of visiting you in hospitals, though.”

“When did you visit me in a hospital?”

“There was the time after we first met…”

“Oh, yeah, but that doesn’t count. We weren’t even dating then.”

“It counts. And then…”

“Yeah?”

“And then there was that time in South Dakota.”

“You didn’t visit me in the hospital in South Dakota.”

“I would have if I had known you were in the hospital in South Dakota. The point is, I’m tired of it. Don’t make me do this anymore.”

“I promise.”

“Okay.”

“Are we going to have another one of those conversations?”

“No, I’m tired of that, too. You are who you are and I’m who I am. How the hell we ended up together, God only knows.”

“Actually, it was God’s doing. Didn’t you know that?”

“What do you mean?”

“God said to me, ‘McKenzie…’”

“He talks to you personally?”

“All the time. He said, ‘McKenzie, you get Nina.’”

“Did he tell you why?”

“Because he likes me.”

“Obviously.”

I tried to eat more beef lo mein, but it fell off the fork as I was about to scoop it into my mouth.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help with that?” Nina asked.

“No, but you can come over if you like.”

Nina set down her meal and made her way to the bed. She sat on the edge of it and leaned in. Her kiss was as soft as a butterfly’s wings.

“Exactly how long did they say you have to wait before you can start working out again?” she asked.

“God knows.”

Nina kissed me without putting any pressure on my shoulder at all. I felt her warmth all down my right arm and chest and spreading through the rest of my body. I wanted to shove the tray away and see how far we could take this before I started screaming out in pain, but I didn’t get a chance. There was a heavy knock on the door, and a moment later Jeremy Gillard sauntered into the hospital room, stopped, looked at me, looked at Nina, looked back at me, and said, “Boy, do I know when to enter a room.”

Nina eased herself off the bed and returned to the table.

“It’s okay,” I said.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I can leave and come back in an hour.”

“Jeremy,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“I was just at the museum.” He threw a thumb at the door as if the museum were just on the other side of it. He smiled at Nina. “Ms. Truhler,” he said. “It is a pleasure to see you again.” He crossed the room and shook Nina’s hand, holding it much longer than I was comfortable with. “You’re looking as lovely as ever.”

Nina thanked him and offered an egg roll.

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Gillard said.

“Please, help yourself,” Nina said.

Gillard said, “Well, if you insist,” scooped an egg roll from the carton, and took a bite. “Oh my God, this is amazing,” he quickly added. “Where did you get these?”

“There’s a Vietnamese restaurant in Northeast Minneapolis called Que Viet Village House.”

“These are great. You know, there’s this joint in Chinatown in Chicago that I go to that makes egg rolls, but these…”

“Hey, guys,” I said.

“The difference is the filler,” Nina said. “The Chinese use cabbage, and the Vietnamese use noodles. Plus, the Vietnamese wrappers are thinner and crispier.”

“Guys?”

They both turned toward me.

“I presume you’re here for a reason, Jer,” I said.

“Oh, yeah,” Gillard said. “I was just at a meeting at the museum. The insurance guy, Donatucci, he told us that you got blown up trying to retrieve the Jade Lily. I just wanted to drop around and see how you were. Donatucci said you were okay, but honestly, McKenzie, you don’t look okay. Are you okay?”