Page 62 of Mother Clucker

The short drive to the hospital sucked way worse than today’s long road trip as I tried to call my sister’s phone and got no answer before my cell, working on about a one percent charge, went dead again.

I pulled into the parking lot.

Grabbing my phone and charger in one hand, I ran for the ER entrance. Last time he’d been taken to the Emergency Room. I figured that was my best bet to check there first.

I shoved the cell and charger into the back pocket of my jeans and stepped up to the front desk. The nurse there directed me to a curtained partition. I heard Mom’s voice, soft and comforting as she talked. What I didn’t hear was my father’s replies.

For lack of anything to knock on, I said softly, “Knock, knock.” Then I peeked around the curtain and saw her there, seated in the single chair next to the bed that filled the tiny space. “Hey, Mom.”

“David.” She stood and came to wrap her arms around me. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“So am I.” My gaze went to the figure in the bed. “How is he?”

“The same.”

The same as what? Because he sure as hell didn’t look the same as the man I’d known growing up. Or even the man I’d said goodbye to before leaving for California last week.

“What do the doctors say?”

“That a second major stroke is common. But we caught it early, so that’s good.”

“Yeah.” I agreed with her even if I had my doubts.

She patted my hand. “Glad you’re here.” After repeating herself she went back to the chair and sat.

Taking my father’s hand in hers she started talking again.

I drew in a breath. It was going to be a long night.

24

Heather

“He hasn’t called or texted.” I sat at my desk in the Millennia office, but I couldn’t sit still.

I was itching to get up and move. But I’d already been to the break room. I’d had three cups of coffee and one cup of hot cocoa. At this rate I was going to become a blimp, living on a steady stream of coffee and cream waiting for David to call me.

Lucy leaned back in her chair and shot me a glance. “It’s only been like a day, right?”

“Two days . . . but still,” I mumbled.

She cocked up one brow, as if to say I was acting like a lunatic. “He has a huge corporation to run. A company he ignored while he was here the past week.”

Was I being irrational?

As Lucy had pointed out, it hadn’t been that long since I’d seen David. But while he’d been in California, I’d never gone a full day without him at least texting me something. Whether it was snarky or funny or sweet, I’d always heard from him—if not seen him in person—daily.

I tried to reason things out. Rationally. Because I was completely rational. For now.

He’d been on the road for the first day.

I’d searched the distance from Drew’s place to El Paso, Texas, which is where my internet search said Strickland Feed was based. It was over an eleven-hour drive. And that’s only if he hadn’t stopped anywhere.

So okay, he would have gotten home late so not hearing from him the first day was understandable. But a whole other day had passed and I still hadn’t heard a word.

Now, the morning of day three, I honestly did feel like I had something to worry about.

I glanced up and saw her watching me. I pulled my thumb, the cuticle of which I’d been gnawing relentlessly, out of my mouth. “Yeah. I know. You’re right.”

---