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“Then we’d have waited longer for them to get to us.” Dee shakes her head. “Just take care of him. Please.”
Dennis is rushed back, and Mom goes with him.
Finally, I let myself breathe.
Dennis will get the care he needs here. I just hope it’s enough. My mom can’t lose her husband two days after their wedding. She just can’t.
Dee leads me to a chair in the waiting area. “Come on. Sit. All we can do now is wait.”
“This was a celebration,” I say, more to myself than to Dee.
“I know. I’m so sorry, Ash.”
“My mom is happier than I’ve ever seen her. She deserves happiness. More than anyone else, she deserves happiness.”
Dee smiles weakly but says nothing. What is there to say?
The atmosphere in the ER waiting room is dull gray.
Until Dale rushes in.
I stand abruptly and run to him, right into his arms, so hard I nearly knock my giant of a husband off his feet.
“Hey.” He kisses the top of my head. “Tell me what’s going on.”
I can’t speak. I’m numb. I simply crush my head to him and shake it. He edges me slowly over to where Dee is sitting.
“We don’t know anything yet,” Dee says.
“Stroke?” Dale asks.
“That’s what Aunt Mel thinks, but they just went back a little while ago. We don’t know anything.”
A nurse comes out then. “Miss White?”
I finally remove my head from Dale’s shoulder. “That’s me, I guess.” Or Mrs. Steel. Whatever. I’ve been Mrs. Steel for only two days.
“Your mother asked me to fill you in,” she says. “Mr. James is showing signs of a stroke, but we need to do some testing to get a firm diagnosis. In the meantime, he’s been given an injection of recombinant tissue plasminogen activator.”
“English, please,” Dale says.
“And you are…?”
“Her husband.”
“Of course. It’s a treatment that dissolves the clot and increases blood flow to the brain. If it’s administered within three hours of a stroke, it significantly improves the chances of recovery.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “It’s only been an hour or so. I think.” Time has kind of suspended itself.
“You did the right thing by getting him here so quickly,” she says. “Though it would have been better to call an emergency vehicle.”
“We were in a rural area,” I say, repeating what Dee said when we got here.
“Still, that’s the best—”
“They got him here,” Dale interrupts. “And in record time. Is now really the best time to lecture my wife when her stepfather is in serious condition?”
The nurse cocks her head and regards Dale. “You look familiar to me. Have we met?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’m sure we ha— You’re Dale Steel. From Steel Vineyards.”
Dale nods.
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“Because I’m Dale Steel? You’re rude to others?”
The nurse reddens. “I have to get back. Again, I’m sorry. You did the right thing.” She scurries off.
“How did she know you?”
“I have no idea. From the news, maybe. The fire. Plus, I was just here when my birth father died.”
“Right. Amazing, though,” I say.
“What?”
“How she treated us differently once she found out who you were.”
“Stupid, is more like it.”
“I’ll take what I can get. She’s going to go back there and tell them who you are, and they’ll push Dennis to the top of the list.”
“He’s a possible stroke case. If he’s not already at the top of the list, there’s something wrong with this hospital.” Dale turns to Dee. “You can go ahead home. I’ve got the truck, and I’ll stay with Ashley.”
Dee nods. “Okay. Call if you need anything, and keep us posted, please.”
“We will,” Dale says. “I’ll walk you out. Will you be okay for a few minutes?” he says to me.
I simply nod. After the nurse thing, I’m done talking for a while.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Dale
A little over a week ago, I was sitting in a different waiting room at this very hospital.
When my father had a heart attack.
A few days later, he summoned me back here to make a confession.
A confession that he’d sold my brother and me to his criminal uncle for five thousand dollars.
I’ve kept that confession locked inside me. No one knows. Not yet. I vowed never to tell my brother. Why fuck up his life? He’s happy, and I don’t want to destroy that.
I should talk to Aunt Mel.
I should, but already I know I won’t.
Right now, Ashley needs me whole, and if I start bringing all my shit out, I’ll be far from whole.
And it hits me.
Why I married Ashley so quickly and with so little thought.
She keeps me whole.
Oh, I love her. I love her more than I ever thought possible.
But I didn’t marry her for the love I feel for her or the love she feels for me.
I married her for stability. For her to be my rock. I’d already allowed my emotion to rise to the surface, and my love for her, so far, has tamped down the horror inside me.
