The Stranger in Room 205

“Grandma called it ‘cozy.’ One bedroom, one bath, a kitchen and this living room. There’s no phone, but you can come to our house if you need to make a call.”

He shrugged. “There’s no one I need to call.”

“Mother stocked fresh linens and a few basic grocery items for you. If you need anything else, feel free to ask.”

“I’m going to pay you and your mother back for everything,” he said, turning to look at her. “The clothes, the food, the rent—you’ll be reimbursed for all of it.”

“We’ll talk about that after you see about your medical bills.” She piled the bags she had carried on one of the two wing chairs. And then she glanced his way, and her eyes narrowed. “Did Dr. Frank send any pain pills home with you?”

“A few, but I don’t need one,” he answered, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head, his wrist, his rib cage—pretty much everywhere.

“I’ll get you a glass of water. You find your pills.”

Her tone didn’t encourage argument, but he tried anyway. “I really don’t—”

“Sam.” She cut in firmly. “You won’t recover unless you take care of yourself. If the pills will let you rest in relative comfort for the next few days, then you should take the pills.”

He lifted an eyebrow. She sounded so determined, it seemed like a waste of breath to argue any further. “Okay. I’ll take one.”

His sudden capitulation apparently caught her off guard. “All right, then,” she said after a moment, and turned toward the kitchen. “I’ll be right back with the water.”

Rather than waiting for her, he followed her into the kitchen, pulling the sample pack of pills out of his pocket. Like the living room, the kitchen was small and efficient, with not an inch of wasted space. Serena opened a cabinet and pulled out a plastic tumbler, which she filled with tap water. She jumped when she turned to find Sam only a step or two away. Water splashed over the side of the tumbler. “I didn’t hear you behind me,” she said unnecessarily.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Did you find your pills?”

He opened his hand to show her the small yellow tablet in his palm.

Serena handed him the tumbler. He swallowed the pill, washed it down with half the water, then reached around her to set the glass on the counter. His arm brushed hers with the movement, and he felt her stiffen. Had the kitchen been bigger, he suspected she would have done a quick sidestep away from him. But since that move would have flattened her against the refrigerator, she stayed where she was. Sam was the one who moved away. As nice as it was to be close to her, he didn’t want to give her a reason to regret offering him a place to recuperate.

“I’ll leave you to settle in,” she said, avoiding his eyes as she moved toward the doorway. “Mother’s cooking a big lunch. She wanted me to invite you to join us—or, if you don’t feel up to that, she’ll bring a plate out to you. The meal should be ready by one, which will give you a couple of hours to rest first.”