Page 95 of Protecting You

“Excuse me?”

They all turned toward a nurse behind the counter a few feet away. “Is one of you Mrs. Templeton?”

“Yes.” Callan’s mom turned toward her. “Is my husband all right?”

“He was just taken to his room.”

“Oh!” She hurried away without a backward glance.

“Come on, Peri.” Hannah gripped the child’s hand and followed her mother.

Callan didn’t move, but his gaze darted toward his family as they left.

“Go,” Alyssa said. “I can leave or wait here or?—”

“If you don’t mind waiting. I’m sorry. I should have… There’s so much…” He leaned in. “We have to pretend.”

Right. This was all pretend. “Just go, Callan. I’ll be here.”

He spun and followed his family with long strides, catching up with them outside a hospital room. They all disappeared inside.

Leaving Alyssa in the middle of the too-bright space, confused, feeling like an interloper.

And the biggest fool in New England.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

Dad had opened his eyes a couple of times, but he hadn’t come fully awake in the thirty minutes since he’d been rolled to his room.

He was connected to machines monitoring his blood pressure and pulse and other things Callan knew nothing about. A nurse who came in to check vitals told them the best thing for Dad was sleep, so Callan and his family had remained quiet. Funny how loud unspoken questions were, though.

Peri didn’t seem to be picking up on the tension.

Mom had settled onto a fake-leather loveseat pushed against the wall, and Hannah was perched on a guest chair. Peri had done her homework, papers shoved in a folder in her purple backpack, then spun on the doctor’s stool for a few minutes. When she tired of that, she settled in beside her grandmother. Nobody had thought to bring her anything to play with, but Mom handed over her cell phone so Peri could play games.

Callan didn’t love that she was on a screen, but what was he going to say? He didn’t have a better plan. The last thing his little girl needed was to be in this place. It had to be bringing back memories of her mother’s death. Peri needed emotional support. She needed conversation and understanding. But Mom was overwrought. Hannah was too worried about Dad and angry with Callan.

And Callan had no idea what to do.

Dad would know. That was the thing about Dad. He always had wisdom to share, and the older Callan got, the more he marveled at it.

Open your eyes, Dad. Be okay. I need you to be okay.

Dad was the best man Callan had ever known. The biggest and strongest and healthiest. Despite the fact that Callan was all grown up and should have a more realistic perception of his father, in a way he still saw him through little-boy eyes.

But the man lying on the hospital bed did not match the one in his memory.

Dad’s usually ruddy skin was pale and gray. His hair, also gray, was thinner than Callan remembered. The wrinkles Callan had thought made Dad look wise and distinguished had deepened and multiplied. The flimsy hospital gown revealed crepey skin interrupted by more gray, this in the form of chest hair.

Dad looked much older than his sixty-five years. He looked weak and vulnerable and sick, and it was terrifying.

Of course his parents wouldn’t always be with him. But the idea of their deaths felt like somethingout there,like faraway galaxies and the South Pole.

How had this happened? How had he missed it?

“Are we gonna eat soon?”

Peri’s question pulled his attention, but of course she hadn’t directed the question at him.

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