IN MY BED

Emma lay on top of the blanket, fully dressed except for her shoes. One arm was tucked beneath her head. A loose strand of brown hair rested against her cheek.

She was asleep.

I switched on the lamp. She startled upright, blinking at me.

"What happened?"

"What are you doing here?"

She looked at the pillow, the blanket, then the shoes beside the bed. Color rose in her face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"In my bedroom."

"I heard the call bell."

"In my bed, Emma."

"I sat down because I was dizzy. You were shivering, and I was waiting for the nurse."

She pointed toward the call button beside the mattress.

"I called Luke. He was downstairs with security. He said he'd get her."

"When?"

Emma glanced at the clock.

"A few minutes ago. I think."

The room still held the warmth of her body. I found that distracting enough to resent it.

"You think?"

"I wasn't planning a nap."

She pushed herself toward the edge of the mattress and reached for her shoes.

Her feet touched the floor. Her knees buckled.

I caught her wrist before she could fall.

Her other hand landed on the bed. For a second, she remained bent over, breathing through her mouth, her pulse beating fast against my thumb.

"Don't move," I said.

"I'm fine."

"You nearly hit the floor."

"I'm tired."

"You're shaking."

"I've been awake too long."

She tried to pull free. I loosened my grip but kept my hand beneath her elbow until she sat.

"How long?"

"Danny, please."

It was the first time she had said my name while looking directly at me.

I forgot the next question.

Luke appeared in the doorway with the nurse behind him.

"What happened?"

"She almost collapsed," I said.

"He was shivering," Emma said at the same time.

The nurse looked between us and set down her bag.

"Then I'll check both of you. Emma, may I take your blood pressure?"

Emma hesitated, then nodded.

Luke moved the chair closer. The nurse dealt with me first, asked questions I answered without arguing, and then turned to Emma.

Nothing dramatic happened. There was no heroic diagnosis, no announcement that somebody had saved somebody else. There was a tired woman who needed rest, and a man who had made an ugly night harder by refusing to admit he needed assistance.

The nurse asked what Emma had eaten.

Emma stared at her hands.

"I had toast."

"When?"

"Before the diner."

Luke glanced at me. I didn't need him to tell me what he was thinking.

"Call the kitchen," I said. "And a car."

Emma looked up.

"I still have the study to clean."

"It can remain dirty until tomorrow."

"You don't like it dirty."

"I dislike people falling over more."

"That's a recent preference."

Luke turned his face away. I could see him trying not to smile.

Emma noticed too. Her mouth moved slightly, but then she looked down at the blood pressure cuff.

"I can't afford to lose the hours."

"You're not losing them."

"You can't order me to be healthy, Danny."

"No. Apparently I can't order you to sit down either."

She rubbed her forehead.

"I just need to get through this week."

There was no defiance in that sentence. I wished there had been. Defiance was easier to answer than exhaustion.

"Consider the shift finished," I said. "Paid. The car is a work expense."

"And what do I owe you?"

"Nothing."

Her gaze lifted slowly.

"People say that."

I looked at Luke. He had accepted favors from me and watched other men do the same. We both knew she had reason to ask.

"Then have Mrs. Alvarez put it in writing," I said. "I don't know how else to make it clear."

The nurse removed the cuff. Emma looked down at the red mark it left, thinking.

"All right," she said finally.

It felt absurdly like a victory.

She ate downstairs while Luke stayed with me. I could hear faint voices through the open door, the nurse answering a question, Mrs. Alvarez insisting on another piece of toast.

"How long was she in here?" I asked.

"Six minutes between her call and my arrival. The nurse was finishing with the relief aide downstairs."

"She said I wouldn't wake."

"You spoke to her. You don't remember?"

"Bits."

"Let the doctor know tomorrow."

I nodded. That surprised him enough that he said nothing else.

After Emma left, I watched the car from the library window. The driver held the door for her. She paused and looked up at the dark house before getting inside.

I couldn't tell whether she saw me.

I stayed until the taillights disappeared.

The next evening, her cart didn't come upstairs.

At eleven, I asked Mrs. Alvarez whether the cleaning schedule had changed.

"Emma called out."

"Is she ill?"

"She said she needed rest, and her mother had a difficult day."

"What kind of difficult day?"

Mrs. Alvarez regarded me quietly.

"The kind families have when someone they love doesn't remember them."

I turned toward the window.

My mother had died when I was nineteen. I remembered her wrists, the smell of hospital soap, and the last thing she asked me: whether I'd eaten. At the time, I had been furious with her for worrying about a meal when she was leaving me.

I had never considered what it might be like to lose someone while they remained alive.

"Did Emma say when she'd return?"

"Tomorrow, if she can."

"If?"

"She's doing her best, Mr. Moretti."

I heard the warning beneath the respectful words.

"I wasn't criticizing her."

"I know."

She didn't look convinced.

I slept badly. Around two, I found myself looking at the empty side of the bed. The blanket had been changed, the pillows straightened. There was no evidence of her presence except what I remembered.

That was enough.

Luke arrived the next afternoon carrying three folders. I asked about the staffing agency before he had opened the first.

"Is something wrong with the agency?" he asked.

"I want to know whether they cover sick leave."

"For everyone, or one employee?"

"Answer the question."

"Depends on the contract. I'll check."

He sat opposite me.

"You could just ask whether she's all right."

"Mrs. Alvarez already did."

"And you've asked Mrs. Alvarez twice."

"You keep detailed records of very little."

Luke put the folders down.

"Emma doesn't need another man making decisions because he has the money to enforce them."

"I sent her home because she nearly fainted."

"That was sensible. I'm talking about what comes next."

I looked at the closed door.

He waited until I met his eyes again.

"Are you planning to help her," he asked, "or control her?"

I opened the first folder.

For once, the fact that I could refuse to answer didn't feel like power.