like it has my name on it," David said with satisfaction as he took a seat. "Apple pie is my favorite. I don't suppose there's ice cream?"
Jenny drew a carton from the propane-powered refrigerator-freezer and put scoops of vanilla ice cream on each of the plates. "Of course. It's as though my grandmother knew you were coming."
She stopped and frowned at him. "She didn't, did she?"
"Nope. I was sort of in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop in." David took a bite of the pie and closed his eyes."Fabulous. Where is your grandmother, by the way?"
"Visiting friends. What does 'sort of in the neighborhood' mean, exactly?" Jenny returned the ice cream to the freezer.
Matthew stood and held out Jenny's chair. As he did, he saw that David was staring at him oddly.
"We're getting a lot of mail about you," David said, taking a sip of coffee. "People want to know how you're doing."
"That's nice." Jenny stirred her coffee.
"How are you doing?"
"Much better," she said slowly. "I wrote you that, remember?"
David met her eyes directly. "Yes, but I wasn't sure if you were telling the truth."
"Jenny is a truthful woman," Matthew told him staunchly.
David lifted his eyebrows and looked at him for a long moment. "Yes, well, she also has a tendency to hold things in, to not want to worry people. She kept telling me she would be okay, but when I visited the hospital the first time after she was returned to the States, I was—well, let's just say I was shocked."
Her appearance had shocked Matthew, too, when she first came here and that had been months after she'd been recovering in the hospital, he knew.
"The boss wanted me to stop by, talk with you."
"Really?" Jenny frowned. "I just wrote him that I wasn't sure when I can come back."
David waved his hand. "Not about that. He wants me to do a story on you. Update the viewers on how you're doing."
Matthew watched her hand come up to touch her cheek, watched her smile fade.
"I can't do that, David."
"Why not? You're looking better. Your speech has really improved, too."
"Would you want to go on—" Emotion made the search for the word harder. "Would you want to go on camera like this?" she asked him as her tears welled up. " Would you?"
"A little makeup and a hairstylist and you'd be fine. And your speech is truly better when you speak slowly and don't get upset." He pushed the package he'd brought toward her."Open it, Jenny."
Jenny did as he asked, drawing out printed e-mail messages and handwritten notes, cards, and letters. She looked at one, then another, and then her lips began trembling.
She stood and grabbed her cane. "I—excuse me." With a jerky gait, she walked out of the room.
Matthew watched her leave, then glanced at David. The man shoved his hands in his hair, disordering the careful style. He had to admit he was a little curious about David's fancy appearance.
"Well, that didn't go well." He looked at Matthew. "I didn't mean to upset her."
"May I?" Matthew asked him, gesturing at the letters.
"Sure."
Matthew read several of the messages. "People really care about her."
David nodded. "Because she cares so much about the children."He sighed. "And because of the way she was hurt. Be glad you didn't see the film of the bomb going off. I've had a few nightmares since I saw it."
"I don't need to see it to know how Jenny has been hurt." Matthew stared down into his coffee, then up at David. "It's hard to understand such hatred."
Just then, Phoebe walked in the door. She brightened when she saw them sitting at the table. "David! How nice to see you. You, too, Matthew."
She hung her outerwear on the peg, then walked to David and gave him a hug.
"Good to see you, too, ma'am. You're looking well."
"Thank you. You look well, too." She moved to pour a cup of coffee, then joined them at the table.
"We were just having a piece of your wonderful pie."
Phoebe beamed. "Next time let me know you're coming, and I'll bake you one to take home." She glanced
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