Page 49 of Between the Lines

“Of course.” Theo’s grip on his arm tightened. “But sit down for a minute, you’re white as a sheet.”

Luca sat, his knees giving out halfway down. He wasn’t breathing right, he couldn’t catch his breath or think straight. He put his head down, trying to fill his lungs, but it was impossible to breathe around the fact that the last time he’d spoken to his mom they’d argued. He’d accused her of abandoning him. And now she might be gone for good and he’d never—“I have to talk to her.” His voice grated painfully in his throat. “I have to get to the hospital.Fuck.My van’s at the hotel.”

Theo gripped Luca’s shoulder hard. “You shouldn’t drive. You’re in shock. And you need to change.”

He looked down at the sand-clogged wetsuit. “Shit.”

“It’s okay,” Theo said. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll call a cab while we head up to the Surf Hut so you can change, and I’ll get it to meet us there. Okay?”

Luca closed his eyes as Theo’s fingers brushed through his hair. The contact anchored him and he clung to it. “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.”

In a daze, Luca got to his feet and let Theo lead him along the beach to the Surf Hut. Don had only given him the scantest details: she’d collapsed, they were in the ambulance. Every terrible possibility went through Luca’s head as he paced along the beach, struggled out of his wetsuit at the Surf Hut and showered off the worst of the sand. Mutely, Theo handed him a towel and dry clothes, and he pulled them on as the cab arrived at the top of the beach.

When the driver started to get out, Theo waved him back inside and opened the passenger door himself. “We need to go to—Luca, which hospital?”

“St. Theresa’s,” he said, finding his voice, and gave the driver directions as he climbed into the back seat. He was vaguely aware of cheap plastic seats, the stink of cigarette smoke, but they were transitory sensations because all he could think about was Jude dying and believing he didn’t love her. Dropping his head into his hands, elbows braced on his knees, he closed his eyes and offered up a rusty prayer, starting to bargain with God for his mother’s life.

I’ll be a better son. I’ll try to like Don. I’ll be happy when she sells the Majestic...

Theo slid into the seat next to him. Luca could feel him sitting close as the car pulled away from the curb and, after a moment, Theo put a hand on Luca’s back, stroking gently. His touch was warm and reassuring, and Luca leaned into it, into Theo, because he needed his touch. Neededhim. Fuck, but it was terrifying how much he needed him. Because Theo made him want things, dangerous things like comfort and love and...andhome. As if Luca had forgotten it was all illusory. As if he didn’t know it could all be snatched away in a heartbeat—by a divorce, by a marriage, by a fucking phone call on the beach.

As if he’d forgotten that people leave, and that Theo was no different.

When they reached the hospital, Theo shoved money at the cab driver and they both ran into the Emergency Room. Inside, Luca found a small waiting area with a nurses’ station staffed by a guy in scrubs. He looked up as Luca approached.

“Judy Brennan,” Luca blurted, Theo crowding in beside him. “She was brought here and—”

“Yes.” The nurse glanced at his computer screen. “She’s still being assessed. Are you both family?”

“I’m her son,” Luca said. “Theo’s a friend.”

“Alright then,” the guy said. “It’s family only, I’m afraid. Your friend needs to stay here, but you can go through and be with your father while you wait.”

He’s not my father.The words backed up behind Luca’s teeth, but he didn’t spit them out. “Which way?”

The nurse indicated the corridor behind the desk. “The waiting room’s on the left, halfway down.”

“I’ll wait here.” Theo gripped his arm, hand lingering near his elbow. “Keep me posted, okay?”

More than anything, Luca wanted Theo with him, but there was no time to argue. “I will,” he promised, squeezing Theo’s hand briefly before letting go and starting to follow the signs to the waiting room.

It wasn’t hard to find. It looked like a glass box, windows all along one wall revealing an elderly woman, a man who looked like her son, and Don. He sat leaning forward with his face buried in his hands. Luca hesitated, but he had to go in. The door squeaked when it opened and everyone but Don looked up at him. He offered the other two a grim nod, then went to sit down. Not right next to Don, he left a seat between them. “Hey,” he said quietly.

Don didn’t move.

Luca shifted on the hard, plastic chair, stared down at the linoleum flooring, and hunched in on himself. He didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want this to be real. “Any news?” he asked. “The guy out front said Mom’s still being assessed.”

After a long silence, Don turned to face him. He’d been crying, his eyes were puffy and his face blotchy. “No news,” he said roughly. “They’ve given her some... I can’t remember. Something to thin her blood.”

Luca nodded as if he knew the first thing about it. “Was she—?” He had to clear his throat. “Was she conscious when they brought her in?”

“Not really.” Don looked away, rubbing a hand over his balding head, and Luca felt a difficult collision of emotions. Seeing how much Don loved Jude, how distressed he was, provoked his pity, it made him feel guilty for how much he’d resented Don. But knowing what Don thought abouthim... He dropped his head into his hands, wishing himself away from the world.

Time passed. An eternity of tension and tedium, full of strangers walking up and down the corridor beyond: hospital staff in scrubs, visitors, and patients. A young couple laughed while they strolled past, as if they were living in a different world to Luca. As if the glass wall of the waiting room set its inhabitants apart, condemned them to a purgatory of waiting.

Waiting, waiting, waiting...

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