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“How did it go with Taylor?” she asks. I think she’s trying to take my mind off my dad.
“It was interesting, to say the least. There’s so much to tell you, but I don’t know where to begin.”
Her eyes grow wide. “Not just a simple dinner to catch up then?”
I shake my head as we reach the vending machine, and I decide to get a Diet Coke instead of coffee. “Nope. Anything but.”
Maddie grabs a coke too, and we walk back to the chairs outside dad’s room.
“You’ll have to tell me about it at home.”
I nod. “Yes, I need to vent.”
“How was he in general?”
I crack the can and take a seat. “He was good. The same, really. Not too much seems to have changed, though he’s a lot more of a closed book. That’s understandable.”
“I can’t believe you even had dinner with him, way to go.”
I laugh a little, despite everything. “It was so good seeing him again, Mads.”
She puts her arm around my shoulders and hugs me to her side. “I know it can’t have been easy. I’m so proud of you.”
I don’t know if I have much to be proud of. I feel a little bit like a fool with him finding out everything that really happened. And what an idiot I was about it all.
I guess not much can be done about it now.
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do, Mads, with anything. Now Dad’s in the hospital…what the hell.”
“I know.” She hugs me to her side again. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll sort out each problem one at a time.”
“Thanks, Mads.” It’s friends like these that make everything worthwhile. I’m very grateful.
We both look up as mom walks out of the room.
“He can have more visitors now,” she says with a small smile. “The nurses said just a few minutes as it’s way past visiting hours.”
I jump out of my seat and put my Coke down.
Maddison says she’ll wait out here until I’ve seen him.
I follow mom in the room and try not to gasp when I see dad. He’s hooked up to a few machines and monitors and there seems to be wires everywhere.
He’s half sitting up, so I suppose that’s something.
“Dad!” I walk on over to the bed and take his hand in mine as he smiles up at me.
“Emmerson. Your Mom is making a fuss.”
I laugh, despite my tears. It’s awful to see him like this. I can’t believe he was having the onset of a heart attack and they were only days away from going to a specialist for some tests.
“She’s allowed to,” I tell him. I’m scared to lean over to embrace him because the nurse is still working around the other side and the tubes and wires are a little intimidating.
“Ganging up on me,” he says, his voice sounding short and raspy.
“Dad, don’t try to talk.” I don’t want him to strain himself.
“I’m fine,” he tries to say.
