Page 91 of Surviving Love
I glanced at Jack, confused. “Did he say time-out?”
“Yes.” Jack caught the ball that rolled off his tray and jumped down onto the ground.
I followed suit, wincing when my stiff feet hit the ground. How had Jack made it look so easy? My feet were throbbing from standing on that damn pole for so long.
Larry also got down off his post, and he rubbed his feet, grimacing.
Shep approached, wearing a serious expression. He stopped in front of us. “Sorry, guys.” He turned his gaze on me. “Mason, I need you to come with me.”
Shocked that he’d pinpointed me, I frowned. “Is something wrong?”
He grimaced. “Uh, yeah. It’s your mother.”
Apprehension jolted through me, and I moved toward him. “What happened? Is she okay?”
Looking uneasy, Shep said, “I’m sorry, Mason. She’s had a heart attack.”
Feeling light-headed, I stared at him as if I didn’t understand the words. “A… heart attack? Is she okay?”
“She’s in intensive care.” Shep cleared his throat. “Things are very serious. The doctors think it’s best if… uh… you go home to see her.”
Jack moved to me right away, and he put his hand on my shoulder. “You should go quickly, Mason.”
I met his worried gaze, nodding as if in a daze. “Right. Of course.”
“Be safe,” he said quietly. “I’ll say a prayer for your mom.”
I gave another nod but couldn’t speak.
“Holly will drive you to the boat. She’s already booked you a return flight to LA.” Shep sighed. “I’m really sorry, Mason. You were doing so well out here too.”
“Thank you.” I turned to Holly, who stood nearby looking pale.
“This way, Mason,” she said softly.
I gave Jack a bewildered look and turned to follow Holly. My emotions were a mess. I’d had no chance to say a real goodbye to anybody. I wished I could have hugged Jack and maybe kissed him farewell. I was sick to my stomach with worry that I might not make it home in time to see Mom. There were just a lot of confusing thoughts rolling around in my head.
I ran with Holly to her jeep, my heart pounding. From the moment I left with Holly, the day became a blur of airports and taxi cabs. The show was kind enough to book me a nonstop flight, but even then it took thirteen hours to reach LA.
When I landed at LAX, I didn’t even go home before going to the hospital. Maybe that was a mistake because I must have looked like a homeless person after thirteen days on an island. I’d had an arrangement where I’d shared my peppermint soap with Jack, and he’d loaned me his razor each day. Otherwise, I might have looked even scarier. Still, from the looks I was getting, I didn’t look normal.
Walking into intensive care was gut-wrenching. God knew I’d spent enough time there myself over the past years, but being there for someone I loved was almost worse. The nurses were very sweet, but they took one look at me and insisted I change into some clothes they provided for me. They made me wear gloves and a mask, just to be sure I didn’t spread anything to Mom.
When I was finally allowed to enter the room where Mom was, a giant lump rose in my throat. She looked so tiny and frail in the hospital bed. She had IVs coming from both arms, and a heart monitor. The beep, beep of machines brought back all kinds of horrible memories.
I sat beside her bed, waiting and hoping she’d wake up and notice I was with her. I stayed like that the entire day and night, just watching her and feeling helpless. The nurses forced me to eat something in the morning, but even if the trauma hadn’t taken away my appetite, I was used to starving after being on the show.
Late in the morning, Mom finally opened her eyes. I stood and went to her immediately, and she looked shocked to see me. Tears began to stream from her eyes, and I couldn’t help but cry as well. I held her bony hand, trying to control my raw emotions, but it wasn’t easy. Seeing my mom like that was terrifying.
“Mason,” she whispered, gripping my fingers.
“Shhh. It’s okay. You’re doing great, Mom.” I forced a smile. “Just rest. I’m not going anywhere.”
She closed her eyes, and after a few minutes, her hold on my hand lessened. Feeling uneasy, I made sure her chest was moving up and down. When I was reassured she was indeed breathing, I sat down again. I stayed there for the rest of the day, and in the evening, her cardiologist came by.
“You must be Mason.” Dr. Drew was an older man with white hair and kind brown eyes. “We thought you were out of the country.”
“I was.” I swallowed. “I came home when I heard about Mom.”
