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"All right, all right." He coughed again. "I apologize. My illness is no excuse for bad manners. You deserve more than that. But after the adoption, this will end. Are we still clear on that?" "As crystal. I won't ever darken your door." "Now, now. Things will just go back to the way they were before, that's all." "I love ya, Hare." "You'd better go. If she sees you..." "Yeah, big drama, I know." Diane quickly stepped back into the doorway of the next room down and tried to make herself invisible. She couldn't help stealing a look around the corner as a very pretty, very pregnant young woman left Harry's room and headed for the elevator.
He was standing at the window, leaning hard on one arm against the wall as he coughed. Lines draped from his other arm and conected him to an IV bag hanging from a pole near the bed. The hospital gown offered a revealing view of Harry's backside, and Diane struggled to suppress a grin as she came up along side of him. "Good news. I'm all settled. Your mom sure knows how to pick em'," she said as she gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "I guess you won't be needing any more of my manly strength to help you move then," he replied in between coughs. "Movin' heavy stuff in a deluge of rain was a nice change of pace, though." She laughed a little, "Yeah, now you can go back to the safe and easy life of the NYPD." "Right." He drew in a big breath and continued, "My mother thinks this is some sort of message from the Almighty Himself. He's knockin' me down to get me to take an account of the detrimental toll of this line of work." Harry reached over a put his arm around her shoulder, as he turned for the bed, "I gotta tell you, this makes a hangover feel pretty good by comparison." "You need a drink, Harry?" He looked at her and then grimaced as he shook his head. "It's lost its charm." Diane sat down with him on the side of the bed, and plopped the little brown bag she'd been carrying onto his lap. "Surprise. I even remembered the Tabasco."
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