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Jace sprang from the couch. “No!”

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” I reached for him because I knew he’d panic. Grandpa staggered to his feet, huffing the whole time.

“Can’t a man get a decent nap in this place?!” His eyes were livid, and I knew instantly something was wrong. He reached the remote and heaved it in our direction. I grabbed Jace and shoved him into the hallway.

“Call 911 and tell them that someone is having a medical emergency and they are combative and we need some help getting them to the hospital. I’ll watch him.” I spit out the directions as I peeked back at Grandpa to see what he was grabbing next. Jace immediately began calling as his eyes filled with worry.

“Be careful, Cal,” he said before they answered.

“Always,” I answered as I shoved him farther away and turned to watch Grandpa. He had a rolled-up newspaper as he staggered my way. At least I had the benefit of being able to move faster.

“I’ll tan your hide.” He came toward me, and I dodged toward the kitchen, one hand swiping a paper towel to stop the blood from dripping down my chin. If my head hadn’t been throbbing, it would have almost been comical because my grandpa had never once tanned my hide, though he had threatened many a time to hang me by my toes as a kid.

“The ambulance is on the way,” Jace called as he peeked around the doorway.

Grandpa lumbered toward me, and I opened the back door, leaving it open for him to follow.

“Get back here!” he called. I darted around the side of the house, and he followed with his rolled-up newspaper until we got to his toys. I was hoping they’d be a distraction until we could figure out what was happening, although I already had my suspicions.

“Don’t mess with my tractors!” he called before dropping to the ground to move the one I’d nudged with my foot. Jace rounded the side of the house from the front as emergency lights lit up the sky. It took three officers and a crew of paramedics to get him strapped into the gurney, but within thirty minutes we were headed to the hospital. Jace and I followed the ambulance in my car.

“What’s going on?” Jace asked as we turned out of the driveway.

“I’m not one hundred percent sure, but the best thing to do right now is to run some tests to better understand,” I said as I drove with one hand and pulled the paper towel away from my face. The blood had stopped.

“You’re probably gonna have a shiner,” Jace said as he looked at my face, and I had no doubt. I was lucky that my eye socket didn’t feel fractured.

“We’ll get Grandpa settled, then I’ll get it looked at,” I said, because of the worry in his eyes. Then, by way of explanation, “Head wounds always bleed dramatically.” Jace saw the downplay for what it was and didn’t respond.

Thirty-Five

Cali

Two days later, it was my first day volunteering at The Hope Center. Grandpa was finally coming home tomorrow. Helen insisted she’d handle getting everything ready for him, which left me with no excuses to skip my volunteer shift. Helen had spent the morning transforming Grandpa’s house into a recovery ward, stocking the refrigerator, organizing his medications, and repeating—more than once—that he was not allowed to “test his limits” just because he felt better.

By the time I finished my first volunteer shift at The Hope Center that evening, my coffee had gone cold twice, and I’d forgotten where I’d set my keys at least three times. Apparently, adding one more responsibility to my already overflowing plate was easier than admitting I was running on fumes. Between Grandpa’s hospital stay, work, and making sure everyone else was okay, I’d convinced myself I was the one person who didn’t need checking on.

Sawyer waited until the side conversations tapered off before clapping her hands once to get everyone’s attention. She thanked us for volunteering and reminded us that The Hope Center only worked because people were willing to give their time. She went over a few reminders for next week’s first aid lesson, encouraged us to think of real-life scenarios we’d like to practice, answered a handful of questions, then smiled and waved us toward the door.

“Thank you all so much,” she said. “Drive safe, and I’ll see you next Thursday.”

The scrape of folding chairs echoed across the room as everyone gathered purses, jackets, and half-finished cups of coffee. Conversations drifted toward the parking lot, the late-evening sun spilling through the front windows in long ribbons of gold. I lingered long enough to thank Sawyer before slipping outside, grateful for the cool breeze after a day spent inside.

“Cali.”

I froze.

Apparently the universe had decided I hadn’t dealt with enough this week. I turned to find Lane making his way across the parking lot, keys swinging lazily from one finger. A backward baseball cap bearing Kennedy High School’s mustang logo couldn’t quite tame the sandy-blond waves peeking out beneath it, while the setting sun caught the stubble along his jaw.

“I thought volunteers were supposed to stay longer than an hour,” he teased.

“I’ve been here for two.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“What?”

“I was making sure you weren’t slacking.”