I was told a while ago that the angioplasty procedure went well and that there had been no complications. The room is dimly lit. Father Laurent is tucked snugly into a half-raised bed, surrounded by humming machinery. He looks tired and pale. “I hope they’re done poking and prodding me for awhile,” he says good-naturedly when I step inside. His voice is weak. I smile at him. “Your nurse tells me you’re a squirmer around needles. I didn’t know that about you.” His grin is immediate but faint. “Needles are for hems and haystacks. Have you heard from Ramsey?” I pull up a chair by his bed. “He and Liam are on their way. They were in Grand Marais when I got a hold of them, so it will take awhile. They should be here soon.” “Where’s Max?” “I let him take my car back to uptown. He’s working at the studio today.” “But how are you going to get home?” “I can call him, Father Laurent. He said he’d come back to get me, I’m sure my mom or L’Raine could come for me, too.”
