“This is your first meal?”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want much earlier.”

He liked this. The easy conversation and comfortable buzz he felt just by being with her.

She sighed and placed her hands in her lap. “We made it out.”

“We did. They tracked your cell phone.”

“Really? No one told me. I don’t remember anything other than you telling me we were going to be OK and then waking here.”

Trent recapped what she’d missed. “When they were lifting you up I kept thinking it was a damn good thing you were out of it. I know how much you love heights.”

“Glad I don’t remember.”

“There were a few guys from your neck of the woods that jumped in on the search.”

“Pomona Fire?”

“Apparently.”

“Wow. I’m surprised I’ve not seen them.”

“They didn’t follow us here. You’ll see them when you get home.” It dawned on him at that point that she’d be headed in one direction when she was well enough to travel, and he’d go in a different one.

Before the wall crashed down and they’d brushed with death, she’d made it clear that they were a fling, a temporary diversion from life.

Yet brushing with death changed that. Didn’t it?

He sat back in the chair and glanced at the newscast that was playing on the flat screen. When he returned his gaze to hers, she smiled. “When are they releasing you?”

“Walt said I could go tomorrow if the blood work continued to clear up.”

“It’s scary, isn’t it? I thought the water was fine.”

“Tasted like city tap water to me,” he said.

“I’ll suggest that rescue workers leave with water purifying tablets in the future. We were lucky.”

“Very.”

The nurse took that moment to come in the room to retrieve the food tray. “Not much longer,” she said to him.

Monica tsked. “He’s fine.”

The nurse stared down her nose at Monica and lifted her hand to the monitor. “Your blood pressure is going up as is your heart rate since he arrived.” Then to emphasize her point, Nurse Hard-Ass took a tympanic thermometer, placed it in Monica’s ear, and turned the device around so Monica could see the number. “And you’re spiking a fever again.” Nurse Hard-Ass had a point. She swiveled toward Trent and placed her palm up and spread her fingers. “Five minutes. And no arguments from you, Nurse Mann.”

The woman left the room in a huff, mumbling something about nurses and doctors being crappy patients.

“Boy, I thought my nurse was rough.”

A sad smile spread over Monica’s lips. “She’s right. I’d kick your ass out too if I was her.”

Trent took the hint and stood to leave. For an awkward moment, he wasn’t sure how to say good-bye. He placed a hand over hers, smiled.

“You’ll come by tomorrow?” she asked.

“I will.” Since Trent wasn’t good at white lies, he knew he’d found a reason to see her again. Maybe that was how this would work. One day at a time.

One day at a time.

Walt entered Trent’s room early the next morning; the admitting physician led the way. “Good news, Mr. Fairchild,” Dr. Simons said. “Kidney function, liver function… all your labs are back within normal limits.”

“That mean I can leave today?”

Walt smiled. “Means you’re one lucky bastard. And yeah, you’re going to be discharged.”

Trent stood from the chair he’d been sitting in and with as much dignity as one could have wearing a drop cloth, shook both the doctors’ hands. “I already know I’m lucky,” he managed to say with a smile.

Dr. Simons went on to tell him how he wanted Trent to see his personal physician in two weeks for follow-up blood work. Also Dr. Simons wanted him to have his doctor request the files from the hospital so they could jump on any long-term effects of the large exposure to lead and mercury, both of which saturated the water Trent and Monica were forced to drink to survive inside the cave.

Trent would never again look at a pool of water and think it anything but poison. Tasteless and odorless poison.

“I’ll write the order for discharge. It will still take a couple of hours to get you out of here.”

Trent thought of Monica. “S’OK. I’m not in a hurry. Need to get ahold of my brothers.”

Dr. Simons left the room, leaving Walt behind.

“I’ll be headed back to California after Monica’s out of surgery.” Walt took a chair across from Trent.

“How’s she doing this morning?”

“She didn’t have an ideal night, but she’s tough. They’re going forward with surgery. The surgeon thinks there’s something left inside her leg that’s keeping her from progressing.”

“Surgery is going to fix it?”

Walt nodded. “We think so.”

“You’re a good friend,” Trent told him.

“Monica’s good people.”

When Walt took to his feet, Trent followed him. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“I’m glad I was there to help. Maybe we can have a beer sometime, watch a game or something.”

Trent smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Take care of yourself.”

Trent called Jason who was staying at a local Morrison Hotel, courtesy of Jack and Jessie. Glen had to fly back home but was making room for him at his place until Trent decided what he wanted to do and where he wanted to do it.