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A nurse pushes through the double doors and heads straight for Dale. “Mr. Steel, your father is awake.” She looks around. “Where’s your mother?”
“She went to get coffee with my wife and sister,” Dale says. “I’ll text her. Can my brother and I go in now?”
“Sure, but only for a few minutes. Then your mother only.”
Dale and I follow the nurse back to the recovery room.
“He’s in and out,” she says, “but his vitals look good. He’s got a long recovery ahead, but he’s strong and in excellent health.”
My father—my strong and robust father—lies on a hospital bed, and two IVs, one in his hand, the other in his arm, entwine around him. A pulse ox machine beeps. It shows ninety-one percent.
I nod to the nurse. “That’s low.”
“It’s normal for coming out of anesthesia,” she says. “Trust me. He’s doing well, all things considered.”
I nod again, though her words give me no comfort as I watch her leave the room.
“Hey, Dad,” Dale says.
Dad’s eyes flutter open. “Your mother?”
“She’ll be here soon,” I say.
“How are you doing?” Dale asks.
“My heart’s beating,” Dad says. “I’ll take it.”
I regard my brother. He and Dad are so close. This has to be killing him. But he’s got a look of pure steel on his face.
He’s angry.
Angry that someone did this to Dad.
I am as well, but Dale… No one does anger quite like my big brother. Not even Uncle Joe.
“We’re going to find whoever did this,” Dale says. “I swear to you, Dad.”
“You let the police do their job, son,” Dad says. “Don’t go all vigilante on me.”
“I won’t,” he says.
A month ago, I wouldn’t have believed Dale, but I believe his words now. Ashley has calmed my brother. Sure, he’ll want to take this on himself, but he won’t. He has someone else to think about.
The nurse returns. “Your mother is back and wants to come in. I’ll need to ask you two gentlemen to leave.”
I nod. “I understand. Come on, Dale.”
“Take care, Dad.” Dale squeezes Dad’s unencumbered hand. “We love you.”
“Yeah,” I say. “You got this.”
And I hope I’m right.
I’ve never seen my father look as weak as he does in that bed.
Dale and I leave as Mom rushes in.
“Let’s get a coffee,” I say to Dale. “We need to talk, and I don’t want to do it in front of the rest of the family.”
He nods. “Got it.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Callie
Mom, Rory, and I head over to the Steel house anyway, Mom carrying a loaf of her homemade sourdough.
“The gift of bread signifies you’ll never go hungry,” Mom says.
Words she’s always said to us when she bakes bread for people. Words she heard from her own mother, and words I’ll probably say to my own children someday out of habit. If I ever learn to bake homemade bread.
The Steels were never even close to hungry, but I get it. Mom feels she has to do something.
“Mrs. Pike,” Darla says, opening the door for us once we arrive, “how nice to see you. Rory, Callie.”
“Please, Darla, it’s Maureen. How are you holding up?”
“As good as I can. Please come in.”
Mom hands the loaf of bread—still warm—to the Steels’ cook and housekeeper.
“I’ll just put this in the kitchen,” Darla says. “Please excuse me.”
She returns a few minutes later, a weak smile on her pretty face.
“What can we do?” Mom asks.
“Pray,” Darla says. “I honestly don’t know what else to do.”
My phone beeps with a text. I pull it out of my purse. From Donny.
Dad’s in recovery. Doing well so far.
I heave out a relieved sigh. “Thank God. Donny just texted me. Talon’s in recovery and doing well.”
Darla crosses herself and then shakes her head. “I’m not even Catholic.”
“Please let Jade know we’re here for her,” Mom says to Darla. “Anything she needs.”
I stifle a scoff. I don’t mean to be sarcastic at such a horrid time, but what on earth could Jade need that we could give?
“I’m sure she knows,” Darla says. “Thank you for the bread.”
“Is there anything we can do for you, Darla?” Rory asks. “Callie and I are great with a vacuum.”
Darla smiles. “No. That’s my job.”
I like Rory’s idea. “Not today,” I say. “Take the day off. If Raine weren’t out of town, we could send you into town for a beauty treatment, but since she is, take a warm bath. Read a book. The library is stocked full of great fiction.”
I warm. Probably shouldn’t have said that. Why would I know what the Steel library holds? Oh, because Donny Steel fucked me up against one of the shelves…
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Mom says, not seeming to notice my library comment, thank God. “Let my girls help you today. I’ll pitch in as well. Donny will be hungry when he gets home tonight. I’ll cook, and Rory and Callie can get the house in shape.”
