Page 112 of This Wild Heart

Isabel heard the noise and looked over, a loopy smile covering her face. “My babies, oh, did all my babies come see me?”

Willa skipped into the room. “Dad said you’re high. How do you feel?”

“Awesome.”

Violet pulled her phone out and started filming. “This is excellent,” she breathed.

“Put that down,” I hissed.

“Yeah right.” She walked into the room, camera aimed at the bed. “Mom, your singing wassopretty. I think you should sing something else for me.”

Needing no further encouragement, Isabel launched into a nineties ballad, and Willa clapped along, dancing by the foot of her bed. The nurse checking her blood pressure winced when Isabel tried to hit a high note. I shook my head.

It was the world’s greatest distraction, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t want my thoughts diverted. Something in me wanted to sink into the horribly achy part, wanted to sink into the pain of missing him. Missing both of them. I wanted to curl up in Isabel’s lap and let her stroke my hair while I told her everything.

Dad sighed, slinging his arm around me. “Have I mentioned I’m glad you’re here?”

I laughed as I rested my head on his shoulder. “Yes. I can stay as long as you need.”

“Really?”

My heart stuttered, picturing Parker’s face when I left him feeding Leo in his room. In a superhuman effort not to break down, I gave my dad a quick smile. “Really. We can talk about it later.” Isabel did her best attempt at vibrato, and we both winced. “Maybe after the excitement has died down in here.”

Once the drugs wore off and Isabel was cleared to go home, it took less than an hour to realize she was the worst patient in the entire universe. First, she hated sitting still. Second, she hated taking medicine, and third, she hated being helpless. Basically everyone in her immediate vicinity was fucked for the next few weeks while we tried to keep her from breaking every single order the doctor had given us.

“I don’t need pain meds,” she said.

“Liar.”

Isabel cut me an unamused look. “I’m fine,” she answered through gritted teeth. Then she shifted slightly on the couch, her face scrunching in visible pain.

“Uh-huh. I can see that.” I uncapped the bottle and fished out two pills. She narrowed her eyes, but didn’t argue. “You could always sing for us again. That would help you feel better.”

“If you don’t delete that video from your sister’s phone, I’m cutting you off.”

“Sure you will,” I said patiently.

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

“Willa is playing with her friend across the street. Violet is on the phone with that idiot boyfriend.” Isabel snorted. “And Dad is actually taking a nap.”

Her eyebrows rose. “How’d you manage that?”

I arranged some crackers on a plate, then grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter. “I told him the alternative was having to watch girl movies with us.”

Spike was curled up on the couch, watching Isabel with thinly veiled annoyance that her leg was propped up on his normal spot where he got the best afternoon sun.

“Your cat is glaring at me.”

I cut up an apple and put it in a bowl, along with some slices of sharp cheddar. “Yeah, he does that.”

When I looked into the family room, she was scooting toward the edge of the cushion, trying to reach for the remote on the coffee table.

“Stop,” I yelled. “Get your ass back on the couch.”

She grumbled something under her breath.

“What was that?” I set the snack next to her and adjusted the pillows behind her back.

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