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“Yes, there is!” I shout. Guilt rams into me. I’ve been ignoring her calls ever since Trace showed up at my house when I had been drinking, and now, she’s had a heart attack! “I’m coming!”
“Okay, okay. Be careful. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I stare at my phone, tears falling down my cheeks. What if she’s not okay? What if I never get to talk to her again? What if she dies? A ragged inhale starts my chest heaving until I’m hyperventilating.
“Britt, what’s wrong?” Trace is suddenly in front of me, hands cupping my face.
Focusing on his hazel eyes, I do my best to calm my breathing. “Mom.” Breathe. “Hospital.” Breathe. “Heart attack.” A sob breaks me down. “I’m so stupid. I’ve talked to you, even went out on a fucking date, and I was ignoring her calls still. God, I gotta go home.”
“You’re in no condition to drive,” he starts as I stand and move around him.
“Too bad! I have to see her!”
He grabs my wrist and pulls me back to him. “You’re crying and having a panic attack. You don’t need to drive. Let me drive you.”
“Then, come on!” I don’t care how I get there, as long as I get there.
Impatiently, I wait for Trace to let Lily out and then he grabs his keys and we’re on our way. Country music is playing softly in the background. Ten minutes into the drive, Trace reaches for my hand.
“She’ll be okay,” he whispers.
Except
she might not be. Dad sounded really worried. He didn’t even sound that scared when I was in the loony bin. “What if she’s not?” I voice my worse fear.
“One minute at a time,” he replies. “Try to relax. It’s going to be a long drive, and Ray will call if anything happens.”
“It’s my mom! What if I lose her? You—” I abruptly stop.
“What?” There’s a hard edge in his voice. “I don’t know what it’s like to lose my mom? You haven’t lost yours, Britt.” I can’t help but hear a silent yet. He clears his throat. “Your call said she’s alive and in the hospital. My call was that she was dead. Be grateful for that.”
“I’m sorry.”
His voice softens. “Me too. Your mom will be fine; she seems like a fighter.”
“Was yours?” I tentatively ask.
His hand tightens on the steering wheel. “She did the best she could.”
I decide to drop the subject, pulling my hand away from Trace’s to squeeze my wrist.
Please, be okay, Mom.
The drive was long and silent except for when Ray called to give Brittany an update. Her mom did indeed have a heart attack, but is alert and in a room. Brittany takes a deep breath and interlocks her fingers with mine while we ride an elevator up to the correct floor.
“She’s okay,” I remind her.
“I know, but I need to see her.”
Brittany pulls me the moment the elevator doors open and drags me down the hallway to room 903. She leaves my side and rushes to her mother, already crying. “I’m sorry. Are you okay? When do you go home?”
“I’m okay, Brittany,” she reassures. Even I can tell she looks exhausted, though. “Can you give us a minute?” she asks, looking at Ray and then me. We leave the room with a nod.
Ray closes the door and proceeds to glare at me. I’m reminded that Jane was the only one who persuaded Brittany to give me another chance. “Why are you here?” he gruffly asks.
“She was freaking out; I didn’t want her to drive like that all this way.”
