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Instead, she’d opened her mouth, been too honest, and chased him away. Raine said he’d gone back to New York that same night. Heavenly was saddened more than surprised.
Her apology text to him had garnered a minimal reply, a politer version of whatever. It stung, but worse, she felt somehow incomplete without his charm, his easy manner, his way of making her feel like a woman. Maybe, like he’d said, it was for the best. But it didn’t feel that way, even after weeks had passed. Even though she loved spending time with Beck.
That confused her, too.
Her father’s low moan of pain snapped her out of her reverie. She knew his sounds, and this wasn’t his usual morning, full-bladder moan. Something was wrong.
She dashed across the room, flipping on the kitchen light, which illuminated the apartment, then took her father’s shaky outstretched hand. “Where does it hurt?”
“My stomach. My head. It’s hard to move my legs. And I’m having trouble breathing,” he wheezed.
Her heart nearly stopped. “Do you want your breakfast and your pills? Or do we need to go to the hospital?”
“No. No… Give me my morning pills. I’m sure they’ll help.”
Maybe, but she wasn’t convinced. “I’ll get your walker and help you to the bathroom, then get your food going. You dizzy?”
He nodded, and as she sat him up, he wobbled. “A little.”
Dread hit her. Was he having another relapse? Please, no. She feared his frail system couldn’t withstand that and she was nowhere near ready to lose him. Forty-six was way too young to die.
But is he really living now?
She shoved the awful question from her head, then hustled to his walker and helped him to his feet. The trip to the bathroom was a mere six feet—and an excruciating five minutes. When she finally got him inside and turned on the light, she helped him to the toilet, turning her head as he pushed his pajama shirt aside and settled on the commode.
“Goddamn it, I hate this for you, Heavenly,” he croaked out. “I’m sorry.”
How could he worry about her at a time like this? “Don’t apologize. I hate this for you way more. Tell me what I can get you. I brought home the paper someone left behind last night.”
“That would be good.” As she dashed off to find it, he called after her. “I don’t like you working at that hospital until the middle of the night.”
He’d like her working at the smoky bar in a skimpy crop top and a short skirt even less, so she spared him that detail. “I’m only doing it twice a week now that school is back in session. The money is too good to pass up.”
As she entered the bathroom again, he was shaking his head. “Be careful out there, sweetheart. I worry about you on the bus so late at night.”
She handed him the paper, trying not to show him that her heart was breaking. Just a few months ago, he’d been able to help himself to the bathroom most days. Now it was rare he could reach the toilet without her assistance.
“I’m a big girl. Did you manage a bowel movement yesterday?”
He closed his eyes. “We shouldn’t have to talk about this.”
“Well, we do. Your condition and the pain meds together constipate you, I know. You need to be honest with me and—”
“No. I didn’t.”
She pursed her lips together. “When was the last—”
“Three days ago.”
“Dad!”
“I’ll work on it. Maybe…get me one of those laxatives with my breakfast.”
The over-the-counter meds didn’t do much, but she had to try. If she could stabilize him, maybe he wouldn’t need a visit to the hospital…
“I’ll head to the kitchen and get everything ready.” She bustled over to the table beside his bed, then grabbed his phone, setting it on the counter beside him. “Text me when you’re done.”
He looked humiliated and frail and ready to give up. “Yeah. Go.”
With a fretful sigh, Heavenly ducked out, shutting the door behind her. She needed to pee, but that was the least of her problems now. Absently, she collected his pills and started peeling his hard-boiled eggs, all the while gnawing her lip.
If he had to go to the hospital, it would eat up every bit of her extra funds. And how would she get him there? If she had to pay for an ambulance, it might bankrupt her. The volunteer who had sat with him when she’d gone to Disneyland was out of town. Beck? No. She wasn’t his responsibility, and she didn’t want his pity. Heavenly thought of calling Raine. But the woman was pregnant and still dealing with the trauma of her father’s attack. During their last conversion, she’d sounded down and admitted that Hammer wasn’t dealing with the situation well. The last thing her friend needed was more problems.
