Thatcher drops me at the hospital that afternoon for my appointment. I insisted to both Emma and him that I was perfectly capable of driving myself, but they insisted I be dropped at the door, where a nervous Liam waited with his hands in his suit pockets.
He gives an awkward, confused wave at Thatcher, trying to place him and failing, until I say, “That’s Emma’s husband. Nicole’s boss’s brother.”
Liam scrunches up his face, putting all those data points together, and eventually smiles tightly. “Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” We walk inside and down the stairs to the waiting room. Liam babbles about the construction of the curved staircase and bannister, admiring the craftsmanship of the brass that I’d never noticed before this moment. “I like how you really see things that most people don’t
