Page 25 of Bound By Them
Her head is down, blond hair blocking her face from view. Something in her stance makes me think she’s sick.
What happened to her? Maybe she’s hurt. But how—I wouldn’t think her work in the ice cream shop is all that dangerous.
The breeze picks up her hair and she smooths it back from her face as she walks.
Her eyes are red, her face twisted in despair.
She isn’t sick, she’s crying. What the fuck happened?
9
Danica
Just when I think I can’t take any more stress and worry of my family breaking apart, something else happens.
It’s the way of the fucking world, I guess.
My mom’s call came in the middle of my shift at Isabelle’s. I could’ve ignored it, but I answered because I was so freaking happy she was breaking our stalemate.
But she wasn’t calling to reconcile. She was calling to inform me that Granddad is at Margaret Chung Medical Center because he had a heart attack.
I thought March was bad, but April isn’t shaping up to be any better. Fuck this whole entire year. I’m done.
I leave the ice cream parlor and speed to the hospital. Dmitri arrives at the same time I do, so we go in together. I don’t know what kind of reception we’ll get from the rest of the family. I guess it doesn’t matter too much, except if we were all on speaking terms, we’d at least get the comfort of hugs and love and knowing that everything else will be okay, even if, God forbid, Granddad isn’t.
Dmitri’s quiet in the elevator. I’m quiet in the elevator.
When it dings to signal our floor, Dmitri follows me out. “So you don’t know anything else?”
I shake my head. We get to the waiting room and find it full of our family. No Patrick. Good, because I don’t have the energy to punch him again.
Although I could find that energy if necessary.
I walk straight to Mom and Dad. Mom’s eyes tear up and she holds out her arms. I hug her, for the first time in over a week. She’s wearing perfume, like always. She’s obsessed with perfumes, always wearing something different. This one has a sharp floral scent combined with an earthier spice. She could probably tell me exactly what the scents are, but I’d forget them in five minutes, anyway.
Dad hugs me next. He looks just as wrecked as Mom, with red-rimmed eyes and pale skin. He looks up to Granddad as his own father and always has, because his dad died when he was young.
Does Dad know about the Aseyevs being a crime family? He must. I have a million questions for him and Mom, but now isn’t the time.
Rachel, my cousin, offers me a hug as well. It means more than I can say, because she’s Patrick’s sister. “I’m sorry I haven’t texted,” she whispers. “Things have been tense.”
“It’s okay, I get it,” I whisper back.
Aunt Milana and Aunt Sylvia—Patrick and Rachel’s moms—don’t offer hugs.
I pull out of Rachel’s hug and face the group at large. “Is there any news?”
“None.” Mom unearths a tissue from her purse and blows her nose. “The doctors are still evaluating him.”
We wait for what feels like forever.
And then Leah shows up.
Seeing my best friend again is a kick to the chest, because I haven’t made things right, and I know it’s on me. It’s my turn to be the bigger person. She’s already said her apologies, and Dmitri has said his. I’m the stubborn-assed hold-out.
Worse, my parents and aunts are being card-carrying dickheads because they ignore Leah. Why the hell am I doing the same?
Leah and Dmitri move off to the side. It looks like they’re passing a flask back and forth. I catch the sharp scent of whiskey.
