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I laid back down and closed my eyes.
“Just give her a chance, Luke. Like a real chance.”
“Kind of hard to do if she won’t give me the time of day, ya know,” I added.
“Look past what she shows you, and you'll see what I already know. She’s kind of perfect for you.”
I didn't respond. Instead, I thought about her until I fell asleep like I’d done every night since she’d moved in.
***
The next day went well. I placed first in my individual competitions while Ryan and I placed second in the team event. We bent a tooth on our saw somehow, and that had taken valuable time off our best run. Everything else had been perfect.
When we arrived home that afternoon, Emmy’s truck still wasn't there so I tried to call her cell, but it went straight to voicemail. I didn’t leave a message, but I did send her another text letting her know I was back. Then I waited and hoped she’d respond.
Chapter Twelve
Emerson
I had driven as quickly as I could to Portland, shaving a good fifteen minutes off the usual time. I rushed up to the hospital and was directed to a family waiting room where my mom and grandmother were waiting on me with tears in their eyes. I hugged them and let the tears that I had been holding for the entire drive fall.
“He’s been asking for you.” My grandmother pulled my hand into hers and gave it a squeeze. I smiled and turned toward the door leading out into the hall.
“It's room 4232,” my mother said.
I followed the signs to the next hall and turned the corner finding his door slightly open.
“My Emmy has arrived.” I heard as I turned into the room.
“How did you know it was me?”
“I told those fussing hens to get out and no one else was allowed in until you got here. They wouldn't leave me alone.” He smiled. I was glad he was smiling. I had been worried that he was in really bad shape. I walked over and sat down on the bed, taking his large hand into mine.
“How are you really?” I asked. I ran a few fingers over his forehead, sweeping the hair away from his eyes. “I know you aren't doing that great or you wouldn’t be here.”
“Honestly, I just feel really tired. The doc came in a little while ago and told me that it appears I’ve had several minute heart attacks that have caused some damage.”
“Does mom know?”
“Good lord no!” He pointed at the door, “And you aren't going to tell her either. I only told you because you know how important my work is to me.”
I started to say something, and he rose his hand before I could talk.
“I want you to take over the company, sooner rather than the later we had talked about. I know your mom will help, but honestly, she doesn't love the work like you do. And let’s face it, leadership is not really her strong suit. I know your research is important and you just got that new grant, so that’ll allow me a little time to start weening myself out of the office and get used to not going to work. God help us all,” he chuckled.
“What will you do with yourself?” I moved off the bed and sat in the chair that was pulled up to the side of the bed.
“I think I'm gonna build those tiny ships inside of bottles.”
“What?” I laughed.
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“You know, like you see in movies.”
“I know, but really?”
“Yes. This heart attack scared the hell out of me, and I realize I have a lot of things I want to do before I hit the dirt pile.” He shrugged. “Doc said my heart was functioning at about seventy percent, and that’s a little scary to an old man.”
