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“Yes.” The lie slipped easily from my lips.
Her nod was slow but unquestioning. “Give me just a minute to get someone out here to walk you up. Why don’t you have a seat while you wait?” she asked, holding a hand out to motion to the waiting area behind me.
I’d only been settled in an uncomfortable plastic chair for a few minutes when a man dressed in all green appeared and told me to follow him. Silently, I did. Down a hall and up an elevator. Then down another hall. Finally, he stopped in front of an open door.
I leaned forward and glanced inside.
Gianna was sitting with her feet propped up on her chair in front of her and her forehead pressed to her knees. Chris was in a chair nearby, eyes closed and leaning back, resting his head against the wall.
When the man who’d led me up here knocked on the open door, Chris’s eyes shot open and instantly fixed on me.
He swallowed hard and blinked rapidly, as if fighting back tears. Without hesitation, I hurried for him. He didn’t stand, but he held his arms out, his chin wobbling as he watched me cross the room. His arms were around me and squeezing tight before I even finished moving.
I dropped my purse onto the chair beside him and stepped between his legs. When he pressed his face into me, I grasped the back of his head, threading my fingers through his hair and wishing I could take on some of his pain for him as his body shook with a single sob. That was all he let out before he turned his head to one side and took a deep breath. He continued holding me tight, pressing his cheek against my abdomen. Settled only slightly now that I could see him and touch him, I kept that one hand on his arm and rubbed circles on his back, just holding him.
“How is he?” I asked, though I was afraid of what the answer might be.
Two chairs over, Gianna sniffed. “He’s in recovery, but we don’t know much.”
“The next few hours are critical,” Chris muttered against me. With a deep breath in, he finally pulled back. Then he yanked me down onto his lap and held me close.
I wrapped an arm over his shoulder and squeezed, soaking in his warmth and willing him to take the comfort I was offering.
“Can you just stay?” The words were a whisper into the side of my neck.
“For as long as you need,” I promised.
“He’s awake?”I blinked twice, unsure that I’d heard my sister correctly.
A few hours ago, a nurse had informed us that he was stable. According to her, his vitals were looking good and they expected him to wake up at some point during the night. The relief was like a ton of bricks falling off my body.
My sister and I had always joked that Pop could never die. The reality was that he would one day. But I wasn’t ready for that yet. I still needed him.
Once I knew he was stable, I had moved across the room to a double chair so Avery could lie down. I sat upright, closing my eyes and tipping my head back, keeping one hand on her hip as she rested her head on my thigh.
Her appearance last night would have brought me to my knees had I been standing. It was everything I needed and didn’t know how to ask for. She’d shown up, and she’d let me hold her. She’d curled up in the chair beside me and laid her head on my shoulder, intrinsically understanding that I didn’t want her to go. And fuck if she wasn’t thecalm I needed to get through these last few hours. She was my peace in the storm.
Thoughts of her must have finally settled my mind enough to allow me to doze off, because suddenly, Gianna was standing over me, shaking my arm to wake me.
“He’s up. The nurse came in and said one of us can go back.”
“You want me to go first?” I asked. Gianna struggled with new things. Anxiety would claw at her. She hated the unknown.
With her lower lip pulled between her teeth, she nodded.
I shifted, hoping to slide out from under Avery without waking her.
She stirred, and then her eyes popped open. “Everything okay?” She sat up, her eyes rimmed red and her hair a mess, looking from me to Gianna and back again, studying us for clues as to the news she was about to hear.
I stood, then squatted in front of her. “He’s awake. So I’m going back to see him.”
“You okay?” she asked, squeezing my hand.
I nodded, but in truth, I wasn’t sure. A few hours ago, when she walked in, I’d almost lost it. I wasn’t in that bad place anymore. My dad was stable and awake, and she was still here. Even so, I felt unsteady, like I was balancing on the edge of a cliff. All I could hope was that seeing Pop would help.
With a brush of my thumb against her hand, I pushed to my feet. Then I followed the nurse to his room.
The smell of disinfectant stung my nose, and my ears rang with the beeps and buzzes of machines. As we approached the nurses’ station, I saw him. In a room across the hall. Behind a large window, he lay in a bed, hooked up to all kinds of wires and tubes. He was pale and gaunt, nothing like the man who was constantly laughing and teasing.
