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“ICU?”
“Yep. They’re hoping to move him out today. He had some tests done this mornin’ and he was waiting to hear back from the doc.”
“Is he... can he...?” He looked considerably more gaunt now. “I should have asked before now. When you said on the phone that he wasn’t well...”
I put my hand on his arm. “He’s okay. He’s going to make a full recovery. He’s talking, eating, and drinking. He’s still got his sense of humour. They’re talkin’ about getting him up and walking. He’s just here because of his heart.”
“His heart...?”
Oh god.
“Yeah, the high voltage gave his ticker a jumpstart. So he’s hooked up to machines that measure every beat. It’s mostly precautionary,” I added, trying to placate him a little.
Jeez.
I sucked at this.
Oh...
And then I remembered something else.
Ah, hell. Here goes nothing.
“Oh, and uh, yeah, before you go in,” I hedged, lookin’ around to see who might be within earshot. “The hospital might be under the impression that Jeremiah and I are married?”
He stared.
“We’re not,” I added quickly. “It’s just so that I can be here with him, ya know? Makes it easier, that’s all.”
His brows did that unimpressed thing again, his mouth a disappointed thin line. “Right.”
So that went well.
“Okay, let’s not keep him waiting.”
I got him signed in and led him into the ward. I held the curtain for him and followed him in.
Jeremiah was still in bed, and it looked as if there’d been some attempt to brush his hair. As soon as he saw his dad, he tried to sit up straighter and winced immediately. “Dad,” he said. There was hope in his eyes, and for a brief second, I got a glimpse of a small boy who’d have given anything in the world to make his father happy.
His dad took one look at him, nodded, and began to cry.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JEREMIAH
Seeing my father upset,seeing him show any kind of emotion at all, took me by such surprise I wasn’t sure how to react.
Seeing him cry made me cry too.
Instant tears, my heart heavy, a lump in my throat.
I tried to reach for him but it hurt my ribs, and he quickly took my hand. “Sorry, son,” he said, wiping his cheeks, trying to compose himself. “Just got a little shock to see you, that’s all.”
I’d never seen my father cry. Not ever.
“It’s okay, Dad,” I said.
Tully wheeled my table over closer to me, and there were now tissues on it. He kissed the side of my head. “I’ll just be out in the hall.”
