Page 69 of Day Break

“Should I worry that you’re moving in on my catch?” Lane said from the office door that he’d just opened.

George laughed and then kissed my cheek. “If only I could get someone like Chloe to look at me the way she looks at you, boy.” He and Byron disappeared into the kitchen.

Lane’s smile slipped and he glanced up the stairs. “How’s it looking up there?”

“All clean. There are some trash bags that your grandfather volunteered you to cart out.” I walked into his arms and placed a kiss on his lips. “They didn’t find your sister’s hiding spot. The shoe box with her treasures is still there.”

Lane frowned. “There was more than just her diary?”

I nodded. “Do you want to go see?”

He shook his head. “Maybe later. For now, I’ll take the trash out, then we can have lunch.” He kissed me again and then headed up the stairs.

Since the rain had stopped earlier that morning, we ate lunch out on the back patio like we used to before the family had arrived. Just the three of us. Four, if you counted Byron, which I did. Especially since he ate half of my sandwich and chips.

After lunch, Lane headed back inside for another call while George, Byron, and I took a short walk on the beach.

We were halfway back to the house when George slumped slightly. His weight doubled as he leaned on me.

“Oh, girl,” he said softly, “I think I need a quick sit down.”

Worry flooded me and after sitting in the sand with him for a few moments, I sent Byron to the house in hopes he would get Lane.

Less than two minutes later, Lane rushed down the pathway with Byron barking at his heels.

“What is it?” he asked, kneeling by his grandfather.

“I’m just tired,” George said, but I could hear the weariness in his voice. It was more than that. His coloring was off, and his eyes were unfocused.

“Lane,” I said, searching his eyes.

He nodded quickly and pulled out his cell phone, then handed it to me. “Call 911. I’ll carry him to the road.”

As I dialed, Lane lifted his grandfather easily into his arms and started back down the pathway towards the house and the road.

It took the ambulance a little over ten minutes to get there. By then, I’d locked up the house with Byron inside and had grabbed my purse, just in case I needed it. I had time to lock up the house and my room above the garage.

“Will you ride with him? I’ll drive right behind the ambulance,” Lane said.

I nodded and was loaded into the back of the ambulance with George. I held his hand while a paramedic took his blood pressure.

It surprised me how quiet George was during the process. They put oxygen on him and even gave him an IV drip.

The entire time, I talked softly to him. I didn’t think he could hear me, but when I stopped, his eyes would search around as if he were looking for me, so I kept talking. After running out of things to say, I started talking about books. I went through some of my favorite lines or poems, not really caring what the paramedics thought of me.

When the ambulance stopped, I stood back and watched them wheel him into the hospital. I didn’t know how long we’d traveled or if we were even still on the island or not.

Lane was there, and he took my hand as we followed them inside.

“Sit,” Lane said, motioning to a row of chairs. “I’ll check in with the nurses.”

I sat, my hands in my lap and tears threatening to fall down my cheeks as I counted the minutes. Lane returned and we sat in silence, waiting for some word from the doctors or nurses.

His phone rang in my pocket, where I’d shoved it after making the 911 call, and I handed it back to him.

“Yes?” he asked into the phone. “Right now, I can’t. We’re at the hospital with Grandpa.” He was quiet for a moment. “The one in Coupeville.” He glanced at me. “Yeah, we’ll be here.” He hung up. “My family is on their way.” He sighed and leaned back.

I took his hand in mine. “They were bound to find out sooner or later.”