"Sara, you need to come home."
I stepped away from the group and pressed the phone harder against my ear. "Mom, what's wrong?" They were so loud and rowdy, it was hard to understand what she was saying.
"It's your father." She choked out the words, and I heard her sob before she pulled herself together enough to keep talking. Something was very wrong. I waved at Danny, but he was too busy playing with Kip. "I found him on the floor of the shop just lying there, Sara. I don't know how long he'd been there. I was at the diner all day and when I came home, he was on the floor and he wasn't moving and I couldn't wake him up."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I leaned against the trailer and asked, "Is he breathing? Mom, is he breathing?"
"The paramedics are here. They think it's a stroke. They're taking him to the hospital right now and I'm following the ambulance, but they told me to call the family." She broke down sobbing again, then said, "They said I need to call the family, Sara. They said to get everyone here."
The phone almost slipped out of my hand. When doctors told you to call the family, it meant they weren't sure he'd make it long enough for the family to arrive.
"We're coming," I said. "Mom, we're coming right now."
"Please hurry, sweetheart."
I turned around, and Danny saw my face and his smile disappeared. Andy stopped mid-stride with Kip in his arms and Tiffany pushed off the trailer and straightened as Mom hung up and I let my phone screen go black.
"Sara, what is it?" Danny set his beer down and took a step toward me.
Tension needled in the center of my back as my shoulders tightened. "It's Dad. Mom found him collapsed in the shop. They think he had a stroke and they're rushing him to the hospital." I hadn't been so scared in four years. "We need to go right now."
Danny's face blanched, and Andy pulled Kip closer to his chest. Even Kip quieted down, tucking his head against my brother’s neck like he knew something was wrong but he was too young to understand.
"Oh, God," Tiffany mumbled, and then she did what I failed to do. She took control. "Boys, load the trailer. Sara, you should take the truck and go now. We'll come up behind." She peeled Kip from Andy’s arms and handed him to me, then swatted at my brothers to get going before she pecked me on the cheek.
"Be careful," she said. "I'll get the boys to grab a bag for you and kip. Go… Get home."
The idea of pulling into Grove Hill again after so long terrified me, but thinking of losing my father was far scarier. Tiffany was right. We had to go and we had to do it now.
I just prayed Dad made it long enough for us to say goodbye.
10
GARRET
I held up two fingers at the bar and waited. The regular bartender was off tonight, so Crystal was covering, which meant I couldn't even order a drink without it becoming a production. She poured the whiskey and brought it over herself instead of sliding it down the counter. She set the glass in front of me and didn't let go of it, keeping her fingers wrapped around the base so I'd have to touch her hand to pick it up.
"You look terrible," she said, leaning forward so her low-cut top would show more tit than fabric.
"Thanks," I growled at her, trying to take the glass and failing. It was a rainy night again, same as it'd been all week, and when rain came through, especially low pressure fronts, I found my leg hurting worse than normal. Whiskey tended to ease that ache better than the pain medicine I was allowed to take.
"I mean it. When's the last time you slept?"
"I sleep fine," I said, glowering at her. "Can I have my drink now?"
"You may need something a little stronger than whiskey, bud." She let go of the glass and leaned forward on her elbows, which put her chest right at eye level and it had me noticing her. "You know what helps with sleep, Crank?"
"A drink. Which is what I'm trying to have." Or four, which was also a possibility, and just about my norm. I'd grown quite attached to the amber liquid, maybe more so than was healthy.
"I was going to say company. But sure, a drink works too." She smiled and walked back down the bar to serve Hank, and I took a long pull from the glass and stared straight ahead at the row of bottles on the back shelf.
When she came back toward me, I pushed the empty glass forward for a refill. This time, she poured it slowly and set it down and stayed, resting her hip against the inside of the bar.
"Don't you ever get tired of coming in here alone and leaving alone?" Her long fingernails had been painted black, and she drummed them on the bar top.
"I'm a creature of habit, I guess," I told her. How many times she'd thrown herself at me and I had refused every single one of them? You'd have thought she'd have gotten the point, but she never did. Tonight would be no different. I could tell it based on the way she was batting her fake eyelashes at me.
"You're a creature of something, but it isn't habit. It's stubbornness." She reached across the bar and ran her finger along the back of my hand, tracing the line of a tattoo that ran from my knuckle to my wrist. "There are women in this town who would kill to spend a night with you. You know that, right?"
