Page 72 of Love in Riverbend
“Sounds good,” Dad says.
After Lynell is gone, Dad asks, “What do you think?”
“I think I greatly underestimated the expense.”
“We can help. You can always apply for a loan if you want.”
“I want to see how well the online sales do and go from there. Chloe is going to meet me here tomorrow, and we’re going to figure out what merchandise will sell best.”
Dad nods.
“Are you okay?” I ask, noticing that his color seems off.
“Just tired. Justin has been working this old man.”
“I thought you were the boss,” I say with a grin.
“I keep telling him that.” Dad wraps his arm around my shoulder. “Let’s go home.” He kisses the top of my head. “If this apartment thing takes time, it’s okay. You and Molly always have a place to call home.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Back at home, Molly is already asleep when I arrive. That doesn’t stop me from going into her room and kissing her hair. She mumbles and wiggles, but her eyes never flutter.
“A marching band,” I say with a smirk.
It’s after my shower and I’m in my room when my phone rings. Dax is on the screen.
“I’m liking these nightly calls,” I say in lieu of a greeting.
“Me too. How did your meeting with Lynell go?”
“We talked about two options…”
We’re an hour into the call when I hear my mother’s voice. The small hairs on my neck stand to attention. “Dax, I need to go. Mom’s yelling. Something is wrong.”
“Call me, Kandace. Let me know what’s happening.”
I nod as I hang up.
Chapter 26
Kandace
I’m having trouble fathoming the last seven hours as I sit beside my mother and brother in the hospital waiting room. It’s a blur, and yet as I sip my stale coffee, I’m numb. Beyond the windows the sun is rising, bringing color to the sky. Justin has been drifting off to sleep for a few minutes and waking back up with a start. Each time, he asks the same question. Mom is quiet, too quiet, as her bloodshot eyes continually fill with tears. It’s possible I’ve also slept, but it doesn’t feel like it.
Dad suffered another heart attack—that’s his preliminary diagnosis. The ambulance rushed him to Washington, a bigger town than Riverbend. I’m full of wishes. I wish we knew he wasn’t feeling well and had time to get him to Bloomington or down to Evansville. The doctors said that wasn’t possible.
Our time was up.
No time for a transfer.
The last person who came to talk to us told us that Dad needed three bypasses, and he was being prepped for surgery. While Mom was allowed to go back and see him, Justin and I stayed here in the waiting room. It has been over four hours since that visit, and we haven’t heard a thing.
It’s as if my nerves are about to stretch to the point of snapping.
The buzz of people in the waiting room and hallways is getting louder as morning brings the hospital to life. We silently watch as people get in and out of the elevators and walk from here to there. I can’t help but wonder what their stories are and if they’re hopeful or not.
I want to be hopeful.
