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Dad pressed his lips together. “It’s no Star Trek, but it’s fun.” Dad was a devoted Trekkie and had even gone on one of their cruises. I had never gotten into it until the reboots where they cast Chris Pine as Captain Kirk. That was an excellent choice. You know, I think I could feel some things for Chris Pine. I wondered if he was single and looking to get married and have some kids. I bet he didn’t have overly hairy feet.
“You’re telling me that you’d rather be with the nanny than C. C.?” Tom found it incredulous. “That C. C. is one hunk of woman. She has some meat to her.” Tom grinned over at me. “Not to say that you aren’t beautiful, even though a light breeze could blow you away. However, I need a woman I can dig my hands into.” His chocolate-brown eyes that reminded me so much of Brooks’s got misty. They did that whenever he was thinking of June.
Daddy cleared his throat, knowing Tom might start blubbering. “Why don’t we get back to the game? I’ll see your two and raise you five.” Dad threw his chips into the pot. He must have had some good cards too.
“I’ll see that bet.” I tossed in my own chips.
Tom scrunched his faced and rubbed his burgeoning belly. “I’m going for it.” He pushed forward his chips. He then dealt the three community cards. Tom was the worst poker player ever. It was surprising, considering he was a lawyer. He groaned, giving away that the cards weren’t to his liking. Downing the rest of his beer was also a dead giveaway.
Daddy was ever stoic and gave not a thing away. He gently sipped his wine and tossed in his bet.
I mirrored his unemotive face, but inside I was dancing. I casually matched his bet.
Tom folded and grabbed another beer from the cooler he’d brought with him. Once he’d popped the top off his bottle, he dealt the last two cards.
Dad and I studied the cards and each other before placing our last bests. We eyed one another, grinning before turning over our cards.
“Four of a kind,” I said at the same time Daddy said, “Flush.”
“Yes!” I scooped up my winnings.
Tom patted my knee. “You’ve always been a lucky one, Gracie, darlin’.”
Daddy gave me a wink. “I would say she’s always been smart.”
“Right you are,” Tom agreed with Dad.
I wasn’t sure how smart I was. I mean, I heard strange voices. And as far as lucky went, I was definitely not lucky in love, but . . . I stared at my men. I supposed I was pretty darn lucky. I stood. “Now that we’ve gotten the first butt kicking out of the way, I’m going to grab a snack. Any takers?” I always tried to make it something healthy, as I knew it was probably the only fruits and vegetables Tom would get all week.
Daddy nodded, but Tom stared blankly and dropped his beer. It splattered all over the wood floor. Before I knew it, Tom was falling out of his chair and making an awful gasping sound. A noise I was all too familiar with. My mother had made the same sounds when she was dying. Both Daddy and I rushed to his side.
“Tom, can you hear me?” I cried.
His eyes rolled back, and he stopped making any noise.
“Daddy, call 911.” I checked Tom’s pulse but couldn’t find one, and he had stopped breathing. “No, no, no.” I wouldn’t lose someone else I loved. I began CPR while Daddy talked to the emergency dispatcher. Time seemed to stand still as I did chest compressions while silently begging God not to take Tom. “Please, Tom, fight. Fight hard. Ryker and Axel need their granddaddy. Daddy and I need you,” I cried. This went on for ten minutes until the EMTs arrived and took over. They immediately brought out a defibrillator and shocked him. I stood in horror, watching from Daddy’s arms.
After shocking him twice, I heard some of the best words ever: “He has a pulse.”
I turned into Daddy, and emotion poured out of me and onto his shirt. They worked on Tom for what seemed like hours, but it was really minutes before they were transporting him out of the house.
“Which hospital are you taking him to?” Daddy asked.
“Regional Medical Center,” the EMT responded.
I guess I knew where I would be spending the night, and praying that Tom was luckier than me tonight.
~*~
Daddy and I sat in the ICU waiting room while they sedated Tom and placed him in therapeutic hypothermia. Tom had gone into what they called sudden cardiac arrest. They believed lowering his body temperature would reduce his risk of brain damage. That was, if he survived. The odds weren’t in his favor, but the doctor told us we shouldn’t lose hope. He had seen patients recover. He said I had increased his chances by administering CPR right away.
