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Joe, wherever he was, said nothing, but it was all I could to keep myself from running out of the store and to the hospital on foot.
“I’m here,” she said, and I hadn’t even noticed her come back. She put an arm around my shoulder and guided me out of the store, my feet following along robotically.
The fifteen minute ride stretched out into hours, precious seconds I didn’t have slipping away like sand through my fingers.
Vanessa talked to me the whole way there, but I barely held onto anything she said.
I only registered that she was calling after me once we’d arrived. I hadn’t even waited for her to stop the car. I bolted inside, my numb feet thundering past reception.
I didn’t stop.
I hurled myself through the door to the stairs, taking them two at a time until finally, finally-
“Dad.”
My father looked up from his hands where his face had been buried, his eyes gaunt and mouth drawn.
“Poppet,” he croaked, his voice rough and his hair disheveled. He got to his feet just as I reached him and pulled me into his arms. His hands shook where they splayed across my upper back.
“What’s happening?” I sniffed, panic and despair welling up until I could barely breathe. “Where’s Mom?”
He pulled away, coughing a little to clear his throat. “She’s been rushed into emergency surgery,” he said gruffly. “She suffered acute heart failure and they- ah, they say she might not make it.”
I stared at the mug in my hands, blurring in and out of focus along with my thoughts, shoving forward then reeling back. Like the tide, I mused vaguely. Rushing in all at once, almost drowning me. And then retreating, waiting for the next wave.
The little café bustled around me, friendly waiters taking excited orders. Friends chattered over their iced coffees and smitten couples swooned over their shared milkshakes.
Cliché, I thought, but soon that thought slipped away as well.
“So, she’s okay for now?”
I curled my fingers around the warmth from my coffee, nodding numbly. “The doctors say she’s stable for now,” I said, my throat raw. I looked at June, her usually bright face crumpled in concern. “They want to move her to CCU but we don’t have the money for it. Dad’s thinking about going back to work.”
June reached across the small Parisian-style table, her hand squeezing mine gently in silent support.
“I can’t imagine how hard this is,” she said, her dark eyes mirroring the desolation I felt. “I know it’s passé when people offer their help, but you know I’ll do whatever I can to help, right? So, please just let me know.”
I nodded again, only managing the smallest upturn of my mouth in lieu of a grateful smile.
“There’s just so much going on right now,” I admitted, the lump in my throat tightening. “She pulled through surgery only to hit another hurdle because we don’t have the money for it. I’d take another job but I can’t just leave the store when Hayden is running around tearing it to bits.”
I stopped myself before my anxiety throttled me, took a deep, shaky breath and cleared my throat.
“That’s why I asked you to meet me,” I explained, studying her face. “I know you’re looking for help at your store and I’d be so grateful if you let me do it.”
June frowned and leaned back, her brows pulled tight. “Frankie,” she murmured. “I can’t offer you nearly enough to cover your mom’s medical bills. And the hours would be hell on you. Working at Ivey’s and then still pulling a shift for me?”
“I’ll teach the kids as well,” I offered, praying that she could see I was serious.
“That’s gonna take a toll on you, Kiki. Why don’t you ask Hayden for a loan?”
The idea alone sent a white-hot poker down my throat.
“No,” I said. “This has nothing to do with Hayden. My parents opened that store to take care of me; doing this is the least I could do. My mom is worth it.”
“You know I love having you at the store,” she sighed eventually, resigned. “Just… promise you’ll remember to look after yourself, okay?”
“Deal.”
