Page 74 of Artfully Wild
“I have no idea what any of that means.” I’m glad Mary says it, because I don’t understand any of it either.
“It just means that certain migraines have symptoms like numbness in the hands or trouble forming words that can be signs of an oncoming seizure. I’d like to discuss it with Jacob first, but I do think I know what he could have and the good news is that it is treatable with medicine. There’s still a chance of migraines in the future, but hopefully not as many, if possible, none at all. But, like I said, I want to talk to him first to confirm a few things before I officially diagnose him. Once he wakes up, I’ll let you know, but for now he’s resting.”
Neither of us say anything as we try to take in and understand everything she just told us. Seizures. He’s been having them and no one has noticed. How is that possible? How has no one around him noticed anything?
I glance at his mother and see every single question written on her face, wondering just like I am what we could have possibly done differently.
But one question above the others comes to the forefront of my mind.
“Did he know?” I whisper, almost afraid of the answer. By the look on Mary’s face, she’s as afraid of the answer to that question as I am, but I couldn’t keep the words inside. They had to come out and breathe orImight stop breathing altogether. The anxiety of the endless possible answers crushing my chest like a vice.
“I don’t think so,” Mary whispers back and I can hear the hope in her voice and the same questioning feeling I feel. The betrayal if he did. The worry and sadness for him if he didn’t.
“No, I don’t either,” I agree. Because I don’t want to believe he would lie not only to me, but to every single person around him.
CHAPTER THIRTY
JACOB
Heavy.
My body feels like it's under layers of weighted blankets. I try to sort through them, but my movements are clumsy. Like a toddler trying to take his first steps or a baby trying to clap his hands together for the first time.
The last things I remember are Skylar’s hands in my hair and her panicked voice and then darkness.
Flexing my fingers, I feel warm hands over mine and a heavy weight on top. I immediately smile at the thought of Skylar’s face being the first thing I see when I look over.
But it’s not.
I frown and try to focus on who I see and when I make it out, I wonder if I’m still asleep. It’s been over six months since I last saw him in person or over the phone. Neither of us have texted the other, especially after his calls went unanswered.
His chair is as close to the bed as it can get and his other arm rests on my bed next to me, his forehead resting on the top of our hands like he’s praying. Maybe he is.
The gray in his hair has grown out where the brown used to be, the side of his beard that I can see is more unkempt than thelast time I saw him and I wonder when he shaved it last. It’s only now that I look at him after not seeing him at all for months that I realize I have no idea what exactly he’s been doing or where he was this whole time. Sure, I knew the general area, but I didn’t know the details. I didn’t really care to know.
“Hey, Pops,” I whisper. It’s all I can manage, because my throat is so dry.
His head jerks up and his eyes widen. I have no idea how long I have been out, but by the look of relief on his face, it could have been days or weeks. How long would it have taken him to get here? Howishe here? Was he planning to come here before? Or did he come because this happened?
“J,” he stands and gently places a hand on the side of my neck, bringing his forehead to mine. “You scared the shit out of me, son.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“I love you, kid. You know that? I don’t say it enough and I know we have a lot to work through, but I love you so much and I don’t know what I would have done if—”
“Dad, it’s okay—”
“It’s not, J, it’s not okay. I should have been here.”
His words are for more than his actions now, but for his choices in the past and I think a piece of me was waiting for him to admit it before I allow myself to forgive him for anything.
Avoiding the wires around me, I put my arms around him and pull him close to me into a full hug. A knot forms in my throat and this time, I don’t try to hide it like I usually would around him. I let it out. And maybe that’s something I should have been doing this whole time. Obviously, I don’t think it would have helped avoid the situation I am in now, but maybe it would have at least decreased the number of migraines by a little bit. I might not have suffered as much if I wasn’t as stubborn.
My tears soak his shirt and he lets his soak my hospitalgown. “I love you, too, Dad,” I say, taking his shirt into my fists, holding on as tightly as I can.
After another minute or so, he pulls away and we both take deep breaths as we dry our cheeks. I have so many questions to ask, I’m not even sure where to start.
It’s then that Dr. Adams, trailed by Mom and Sky, come in. “I thought I heard voices in here and I wanted to come check in. I hope we aren’t interrupting,” Dr. Adams says softly.
