Perfect Regret ( BOOK 2) (15 page)

Garrett came forward and held out his hand to Mom, who took it in hers. She didn’t shake it. She simply held it firmly between her palms. She was most likely trying to read his aura or something.

“I’m a friend of your daughter’s. My name is Garrett Bellows, ma’am. I offered to drive her up here after she got your phone call. I didn’t want her making the trip on her own,” he said and I could tell his answer pleased my mother.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Garrett. Thank you so much for taking care of my Riley,” she said genuinely. Her eyes went back and forth between us and I knew she was trying to work out exactly what our relationship was.

“It was my pleasure. But I’d best be getting back on the road. I know you both need to get to the hospital,” Garrett said, already moving toward the door.

My mom stopped him. “You haven’t slept tonight, have you, Garrett?” she asked. Garrett looked at me then back to my mom and shook his head.

“But that’s okay. Nothing a little coffee can’t cure. I’ll be all right to get back to Bakersville,” he assured her but my mother was shaking her head.

“Absolutely not, young man. You will stay here and get some sleep. Get something to eat and
then
you can get on the road. But I will not allow you to leave until those things are done first,” she scolded him good naturedly but with a firmness that brooked no argument.

Garrett opened his mouth to protest but I cut him off. “Forget it, Garrett. Mom will shackle you to the bed if she has to. Just go take a load off. Get a few hours of sleep. Please. I know you’re tired,” I said.

Garrett seemed unsure but my mother took him by the arm and led him down the hallway.

W
alking into the ICU, the first thing I was acutely aware of was the smell. God, hospitals reeked. The horrible scent of too much disinfectant and an overabundance of stress and grief stuck in the back of my throat. The waiting room was small, with a TV mounted to the wall playing CNN on mute. There were a few other people sat around looking as anxious as I felt. I briefly wondered what their story was.

My brother, Gavin, slept slumped over in a chair in the corner. He was going to wake up with a mean crick in his neck. My sister, Felicity, was furiously tapping away on her phone. I hadn’t seen either of my siblings in months. We hadn’t been particularly close growing up, primarily because they were both so much older than I was. But now, seeing the two of them, I felt nothing but relief that they were there. The thing about family is that push come to shove, they had your back. It was reassuring on such a basic level.

My mom gripped my hand as we approached Felicity. She looked up startled and then got to her feet to hug Mom. Felicity was like a mini-Mom. They were exactly the same height and build and my mother could easily pass for Felicity’s older sister.

Which made sense, considering my mom and dad were kids barely out of high school when Mom first got pregnant with Gavin and then ten months later with Felicity. I didn’t enter the picture until sixteen years later.

So I had essentially grown up an only child. By the time I was old enough to actually understand how nice it would be to have a sibling to share things with, they were both grown up and living their own lives.

Felicity turned and gave me her Mom-like smile and enfolded me in a hug. “They just took Dad somewhere for more tests. They wanted you to come find the head nurse on duty when you got back,” Felicity told my mother.

“Why don’t you take your sister to get something to eat. She hasn’t eaten or slept at all,” my mom directed Felicity, as though I were still a child. Felicity nodded and my mom buzzed the speaker to be let through the locked doors of the ICU.

“Come on, let’s go to the cafeteria. The coffee’s horrible, but you may find something worth eating,” Felicity led me by the arm. I looked back at my brother who had started to snore. “Leave him. He’s exhausted,” Felicity said and I followed her to the elevator banks.

One burnt bagel and two very bad cups of coffee later, Felicity and I were back in the waiting room of the ICU. Mom hadn’t come back out and we sat there, on pins and needles waiting for news. It was the most painful hour of my life.

The not knowing.

“How are Leslie and Julia?” I asked Felicity. Leslie was ten and Julia had just turned three. I didn’t get to see my nieces nearly often enough, but I made sure never to miss a birthday or a Christmas. I was cool Auntie Riley, mostly because I lavished the two girls with gifts and ice cream. I was a ruthless child briber. But I intended to keep the title of greatest aunt ever at whatever the cost.

“They’re great. Leslie has decided she wants to learn how to play the guitar. So Sam bought her an old beater from the thrift shop. We’ll see how long the desire lasts. Julia will be starting a new pre-school after Christmas. She’s already trying to read. We call her our little Einstein,” Felicity said, beaming with pride.

“That’s awesome. You have some great kids, Fliss,” I said, giving her as much of a smile as I could muster.

“What about you? How’s school? Mom said you were interning at the local paper. That’s pretty great, Ri,” my sister commented.

“Yeah…” I trailed off as the doors to the ICU opened and my mom came into the waiting room. Both Felicity and myself got to our feet and my brother was instantly awake. He barely processed the fact that I was there; he was immediately by Mom’s side.

Her face was ashen and she looked sick. “What is it, Mom?” Gavin asked her. My brother looked like he had aged ten years.

Mom griped his arm, as though she couldn’t stand up on her own. “They’re going to start prepping him for surgery. Your father has a total blockage of one of his coronary arteries. They need to go in and repair the damage. So now is the time to see him.” My mom didn’t need to say
while you can
. Because that was implied. Dad’s situation was obviously very serious and I just wanted to curl into a ball and cry.

“Only one of you can go back at a time,” my mom said. She was totally frazzled and I could see how tenuous her grip on things was. Gavin turned to me and motioned me toward the doors.

“You just got here, Riley. We’ve all seen him. Go on back,” he urged with a sad smile. I squeezed my big brother’s hand and buzzed to be let back.

Seeing your father hooked up to a million different tubes and wires with the constant drone of beeping and wining of monitors was like a swift kick to the head. It shatters any illusion that you may have that your parents are infallible. That they are beyond mortal trappings like sickness and death.

It reminds you that your parents are human. And I think that’s the truest sign that you’ve passed from the innocence of adolescence to the shitfest of adulthood. I think I’d like to book my return ticket back to blissful ignorance, please.

He looked so small in the hospital bed. His skin was white and seemed completely devoid of color. Even his lips were pale and seemed to blend in with the pallor of his face. It was scary seeing him like that.

I sat down beside the bed and took his hand in mine. It seemed like such a stereotypical thing to do. To cry by his bedside and plead with him to pull through. I wasn’t one for clichés in any form but right now it was the only thing I could do.

My dad’s eyes fluttered open and he looked at me. “Hiya kiddo,” he said, his voice hoarse and unused. He tried to smile but it was a weak imitation of what I was used to from him.

“Hiya, Dad. You sure do know how to make us worry about you. If you wanted the attention, couldn’t you think of a better way to get it?” I teased even as my eyes welled up with tears.

My dad’s fingers squeezed mine and I knew if he had the energy he would have laughed at my bad attempt at humor. “Give your old man a break. This was my excuse for a vacation. Otherwise your mom would have made me start painting the porch,” he joked and I couldn’t help but grin.

The fact that my dad’s sense of humor was in tact was the biggest reassurance I could have. He seemed…well…like himself. I hadn’t been sure what to expect and my head had gone instantly to every horrible scenario I could imagine. I had thought that he’d be a shell. Or that he wouldn’t know who I was. That’s what I get for watching way too much bad television.

“Well, we can’t have that right? I think you’ve gotten out of the honey do list for the foreseeable future,” I told him and he tried to laugh but ended up coughing, his face contorting painfully. I immediately felt horrible. Why did I have to make every serious situation a joke? My defense mechanisms majorly sucked.

“Sorry, Dad,” I said, contrite. My dad looked at me, his eyes dull and starting to unfocus a bit as the exhaustion took over. Talking to me was obviously taking a lot out of him.

“Don’t be. I’m just glad you’re here. Things are always so much better when Riley Boo’s around,” he said, his words dropping to the barest whisper as his eyes drooped closed.

“Well I’m not going anywhere,” I promised as my dad drifted in and out of sleep. I sat with him for almost an hour, dividing my attention between watching his chest rise and fall and staring at the numbers on the monitors wishing they made some sort of sense.

I must have drifted off because the feel of my dad’s hand on the back of my head had me startling awake. I rubbed at my tired eyes as my exhausted brained struggled to remember where I was. I looked over at Dad and saw that he was awake even though his skin was sallow and there were dark circles underneath his eyes. His lips were dry and cracked and he looked horrible.

“You’re tired, sweetheart. You should head back to the house and get some rest,” my dad said in a strained whisper.

I shook my head. “I’m fine. Stop worrying about me,” I chided. My dad tried to smile but it fell short. Instead he dropped his hand from my head back into his lap, where it lay limply.

“Riley, I just want you to know that I’m proud of the woman you’ve become. All your mom and I have ever wanted was for you to be successful and happy,” my dad said and I could see the effort it took him to speak.

“Dad, I know. You don’t need to tire yourself out by telling me stuff you’ve already told me a million times,” I scolded teasingly, patting the back of his hand.

My dad frowned. “Humor your old man, please.” I shut up and propped my elbows on the bed and watched him closely, agonizingly alert for any subtle change in him. My eyes darted to the monitors out of the corner of my eye as if I could understand what they were saying.

“Have a life that matters. A life with purpose. Find your own way but don’t lose sight of the journey. Do this for me,” my dad said softly and I hated the finality of his words. As though he were imparting his final goodbye. It made my heartache and my stomach knot up but I took those words inside me and swore I would live them.

I nodded, wiping the tears from my face, unable to say anything. My dad seemed satisfied and closed his eyes again. After a few minutes, his breathing evened out and I realized he had fallen back asleep.

Feeling emotionally spent, I got up and kissed my dad’s cheek and went back out to the waiting room so that my brother could come back.

Each of us had our time with Dad and then it was time for him to be wheeled back for surgery. His cardiologist came out and talked with Mom and explained how the surgery would go. I hate to admit that I barely listened. Mostly it was a bunch of medical mumbo jumbo that went right over my head.

All I could hear were my dad’s words to me ringing in my ears.
Have a life that matters. A life with purpose.

Felicity went outside to call her husband and kids. Gavin went with Mom to get a coffee. I was left in the waiting room staring at the wall. I thought about calling Garrett to see if he had gotten on the road, but I quickly realized I didn’t even have his number.

I checked my texts messages and saw that I had a few from Maysie, one from Gracie and a missed call from Moore Pruitt, the general manager at Barton’s. I sent a quick reply to Maysie and Gracie, letting them know what was going on with Dad. I figured Moore could wait until I knew more. I needed to send an email to my professors letting them know I’d be out for a few days. I also needed to call the newspaper to let them know about my absence. But all that could wait until later.

Until I knew how Dad’s surgery went.

One hour turned into two. Two into three. I ate a horrible lunch of dried out hamburger and greasy fries. Gavin and I argued over what to watch on the TV. Felicity talked Mom into taking a walk on the nature trail behind the hospital.

But the minutes crawled by like years. It was by far the longest day of my life. And when the doctor finally came out to find us it was only four hours later.

My blood rushed through my ears and all I could hear was Dad had done well and was now in recovery. My knees buckled and I had to sit down in relief. Felicity started to cry and my mom’s shoulders were shaking.

The doctor continued to talk about things they were going to be looking for and the fact that the next twenty-four hours were critical. But all I heard was my dad had gotten through his surgery all right.

The relief I felt in that statement couldn’t be described in words.

Once we had time to process that Dad had pulled through, Mom insisted I head back to the house and get some rest.

“You look like you’re about to fall over, Ri. We’ll call you if we hear anything more,” Gavin assured me.

I argued that I wanted to see Dad when he woke up but was reminded he would most likely be sleeping for a while and he wouldn’t be allowed visitors until much later.

I needed to sleep, I was feeling almost slaphappy. So I took Mom’s van keys and headed home.

I was surprised to find that my car was still in the driveway. I would have thought Garrett would have been headed back to Bakersville by now.

I went inside and found Garrett tying his shoes. He looked like he had just gotten out of the shower, his blond hair wet and slicked back from his face. It made him look younger somehow.

“Hey,” he said softly as I came in. I dropped the keys into a bowl on the counter and practically collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs.

“Hey,” I said tiredly, resting my head in my hand. Garrett finished tying his shoe and sat up.

“How’s your dad?” he asked.

“He just got out of bypass surgery. He made it through but the next twenty-four hours will be critical,” I parroted the doctor’s words, feeling my exhaustion settle into my bones. I was about to collapse.

“You need to sleep. Come on,” Garrett helped me to my feet and then did something that had I not been close to a coma, would have totally freaked me out. He reached down and swept me up in his arms. He carried me down the hallway to the spare bedroom where he had slept earlier.

He laid me down on the freshly made bed and with surprising tenderness, smoothed my hair away from my face and re-positioned the pillow under my head.

“I thought you would have left by now,” I stated as Garrett started to take off my shoes and socks, placing them on the floor.

Garrett shrugged. “I didn’t want to leave until I knew you were okay,” he said matter a factly, as though it were an obvious answer.

I didn’t know what to make of him and the way he had shown me in a hundred tiny ways that he cared. This person who had I had spent a good deal of time detesting, was in truth one of the most decent guys I had ever met. I had totally misjudged him.

“I’ll let you rest. I really hope your dad is okay,” Garrett said, getting to his feet.