“The strike doesn’t matter right now, Stewart,” he said after a long pause. “Put it out of your mind. Things are under control. Focus on getting your strength back.” Somewhat of a fib on his part this time. But why burden a sick man with the gory details?
The CICU nurse returned and vigilantly told Ferris he had to leave. The younger man gazed at his counterpart admiringly, hoping he’d one day master that kind of quiet dignity.
“David?” Addison grasped Ferris’ hand with both of his.
“I am truly sorry how this whole thing has turned out. It’s not what I wanted at all, believe me.”
Ferris felt a squeeze on his hand. “I know, Stewart. I know.” He pulled free and backed away a step, noticing the nurse’s imploring expression. “When you get out of here, and the strike’s settled, let’s you and I go out for a drink.”
“I’d like that, Dave, I’d like that very much.”
Ferris mouthed a “take care” and followed the nurse out. He knew if Stewart could be half as stubborn here as he was at the bargaining table, he’d be on his feet in no time.
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