Page 57 of The Wedding Driver
“Are we a couple?”
“Yes,” he said.
“This is what girlfriends do.”
His eyes were wet with tears. “I’ve got to call her parents. I’ve been told she’s at end of life. I’m not sure I know what that means.”
A sudden chill snaked through Tonya’s bloodstream. “Foster. I don’t want you driving up there alone. You’re obviously distraught.” She pulled out her cell. “We’ll do this ride together and I’ll make sure your boat is taken care of.” She glanced over her shoulder. “We’ll call her parents on the drive to Ticonderoga. Okay?”
“You’re not going to let me say no, are you?”
She shook her head.
“Thank you.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek.
Pressing her hand against the center of his chest, she said, “You never have to thank me for supporting you.”
* * *
The last thing Foster wanted was Tonya to be here during the perfect trifecta for a shitshow.
If he thought Victoria could be cruel sometimes, her parents could be worse.
Add Kathy into that mix, and this situation could become toxic in minutes.
It wouldn’t matter that Victoria could be on her deathbed, Victor and Denise considered their child dead anyway.
They also hated Kathy. Not because of his affair with her, but because of the condescending attitude she’d had with them when Lisa had fallen off her bike before they knew he’d been messing around.
He did his best to keep his blood pressure in check as he made his way down the corridor. The lovely people in the emergency department had informed him that Victoria had been admitted and was currently in the ICU where she was on a ventilator. After she was released from prison, her parents wanted nothing to do with her and he agreed to be responsible. Ever since then, he was listed as having power of attorney. He could have forced her into rehab, which he’d done once before.
But she walked out three days after she’d been admitted.
Not worth doing it again.
Foster had continued to offer it. He continued to drag her to meetings. Shelters. Other services that could better her existence. But overall, Foster had to come to terms with the idea that he’d done his best to live up to his promise to his daughter.
Tonya grabbed his arm. “You haven’t said five words to me since we left the Village. I’m worried about you and how you’re handling all this.”
“I’m still processing the news and trying to figure out how to deal with Victor and Denise. If they are even here.”
“Oh. We’re here,” a familiar male voice bellowed.
Foster paused in front of a waiting room of sorts, shocked that they had beat him to the hospital. They were about a half an hour farther south than he had been and knowing them, they took their time leaving their house. He leaned closer to Tonya. “Why don’t you go get some coffee and snacks.” He pulled out his wallet and handed her a twenty.
“I’m not leaving your side.”
“Your heart is in the right place, and I adore you for it. But I need to speak to them alone.” He kissed her forehead. “Please.”
“Okay. But I’ll be right back.”
“Thank you.” He took a few moments to collect his thoughts before stepping into the small room.
An ugly blue sofa sat in front of a window. A table with four chairs was positioned in the center of the room while a small television hung in the corner.
“To be honest,” Foster started, “I’m surprised you both made it.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shifted his gaze between Victor and Denise. There was no love lost between his in-laws anymore. They resented him for his support of their daughter, not the death of their grandchild. They didn’t hold him responsible for that the same way he held himself. “You’ve told me that if it ever came down to something like this, you’d let me deal with it, which I’m doing.”
“You called us, remember,” Victor said, wrapping his arm around his wife.
