Roses Are Red

8:00 A.M. tomorrow.
    “You wanted olives and anchovies, right?” I teased her as I opened the pizza box.
    “You got that wrong, Mr. Delivery Man. Better take that nasty pie right back to the store if it has those slimy little anchovies on it,” she said, giving me the evil eye she must have learned from her great-grandmother.
    “He’s just teasing you,” Nana said, and gave me a softer version of the squinty-eyed look.
    Jannie shrugged. “I know it, Nana. I’m teasing him back.
It’s our thing, doo, doo. Do what you wanna do,
” she sang the old pop tune and smiled.
    “I like anchovies,” Damon said, just to be controversial. “They’re real salty.”
    “You would.” She frowned at her brother. “I think you might have been an anchovy in another life.”
    We were laughing, just like always, as we dug into the extra-cheese pizza and milk. We exchanged news of our days. Jannie held center court again, elaborately describing her second CT scan, which had lasted half an hour. Then she proclaimed: “I’ve decided to become a doctor. My decision is final. I’ll probably go to Johns Hopkins like Daddy did.”
    Nana and Damon finally got up to leave around eight. They’d been at the hospital since just after three.
    Jannie announced: “Daddy’s staying for a while extra because he had to work and I didn’t see enough of him today.” She motioned for Nana to give her a hug and they held on to each other for a long moment. Nana whispered something private in Jannie’s ear, and she nodded that she understood.
    Then Jannie waved Damon over to her bedside. “Give me a big hug and a kiss,” she commanded.
    Damon and Nana Mama left with a lot of bye-byes, and extra waves, and see-you-tomorrows, and brave smiles. Jannie sat there with her cheeks wet and shiny, crying and smiling at the same time.
    “Actually, I sort of like this,” she told them. “You know that I
have
to be the center of attraction. And everybody stop worrying — I am going to be a doctor. In fact, from now on, you all can call me Dr. Jannie.”
    “Good night, Dr. Jannie. Sweet dreams,” Nana spoke softly from the doorway. “I’ll see you tomorrow, darling girl.”
    “Night,” Damon said. He turned away, then turned back. “Oh, all right —
Dr. Jannie.
”
    She and I were quiet for a few moments after Nana and Damon left. I came over and put my arm around her. I think that the parting scene had been too much for both of us. I sat on the edge of the hospital bed, and I held her as if she would break. We stayed like that for a long time, talking a little bit, but mostly just holding on to each other.
    I was surprised when I saw that Jannie had fallen fast asleep in my arms. That’s when the tears finally started to roll from my eyes.

Chapter 36
    I STAYED IN THE HOSPITAL with Jannie all night. I was as saddened and afraid as I’d ever been; the fear was a living thing constricting my chest. I slept some, but not much. I thought about the bank robberies a little — just to put my mind somewhere else. Innocent people had been savagely murdered, and that hit home with me and everybody else.
    I also thought about Christine. I loved her, couldn’t help it, but I believed she had made up her mind about the two of us. I couldn’t change it. She didn’t want to be with a homicide detective, and I probably couldn’t be anything else.
    Jannie and I were both awake around five the next morning. Her room looked out on an expansive sunroof and a small, flowering garden. We sat quietly and watched the sunrise through the window. It looked so stunningly beautiful and serene that it made me sad all over again.
What if this was our last sunrise together?
I didn’t want to think like that, but I couldn’t help it.
    “Don’t worry, Daddy,” Jannie said, reading my face like the little necromancer she could be sometimes. “There’ll be lots of pretty sunrises in my life. . . . I am a little scared, though. Truth be told.”
    “Truth be told,” I said. “That’s the way it always has to be between us.”
    “Okay. So I’m very scared,” Jannie said in a tiny voice.
    “Me, too, little girl.”
    We held hands and stared at the glorious orangish-red sun. Jannie was very quiet. It took all of my willpower to keep from breaking up. I started to choke and hid it with a false yawn that I was sure didn’t fool her.
    “What happens this morning?” Jannie finally asked in a whisper.
    “The rest of the pre-op workup,” I told her.