TWENTY-NINE
Beth sat in Paul’s room, watching his peaceful countenance as he slept, his untroubled image interrupted by lines delivering fluids and cords monitoring vital functions that were attached to devices that periodically beeped and buzzed. Dan Talbot, wearing a look of concern, entered the room and gave her a hug. Then he sat down in the other visitor chair, while she waited expectantly for information.
“How’s Paul doing?” he asked, looking at his sleeping figure.
“The doc tells me that Paul’s odds are good, but there’s no guarantee there won’t be some kind of residuals.”
He nodded, and said, “I understand. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for both of you.”
“What about Adam and Chris?” she asked. “Are they okay?”
“Adam and Chris Mason are both fine,” was where he began.
She nodd
