Chapter Eighteen
Insistent knocking on her bedroom door pulled Hannah out of bed Saturday morning, much earlier than she’d intended on waking. Actually, she’d been up for a while. She’d called Dan, but as usual, he hadn’t answered. Still, she’d been hoping to relax a little longer…
“Hannahla, are you up? Hannah?”
“I’m awake, Bubbe.” She rubbed her face. “What’s wrong?”
Her grandma walked in holding the apartment phone. “There’s a call for you.”
On the home phone? No one called on the home phone. Her grandmother and telemarketers used it. If this was a telemarketer at eight-flippin’ thirty on a Saturday, they would pay.
“Hello?”
“Hannah, it’s Tess.”
Hannah sat up straight. “Hi, Tess.”
“Um, I’m sorry to bother you…”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. What’s wrong?”
There was a gasp, sobs, and words she couldn’t make out. Her heart beat fast in her chest. She clasped the phone tightly. Her grandmother frowned. Hannah shook her head, covered the phone, and whispered, “I have no idea what’s going on.” Uncovering the mouthpiece, she waited until there was a pause in the noise on the other end. “Tess, honey, I can’t understand what you said. Take a deep breath and start over.”
“It’s my dad.”
A frisson of fear trickled down her spine. She jumped out of bed, trying to untangle the sheets around her legs. “What happened?”
“His leg hurts. I mean, it always hurts, but it’s much worse and he fell and I can’t get him up and I don’t know what to do. Can you help me please?”
“Of course, sweetheart. Did you call 911?” She grabbed clothes and started to put them on.
“I wanted to call, but he yelled at me not to. He’s fallen before when his leg gives out. He’d kill me if he knew I called you, but I’m scared. I haven’t seen him like this in a really long time.”
“Okay. Give me about fifteen minutes. And Tess? I’m glad you called.”
Hanging up, she finished dressing. With a few quick words to her grandmother, she raced the ten blocks to Dan’s apartment. Her hand was poised to knock on the door when Tess jerked it open.
The teen fell into Hannah’s arms and trembled against her shoulder.
“Shh, it’s okay, honey.” Hannah rubbed her back. She’d never seen Tess like this, but she couldn’t show her how freaked out she was. After a moment, Tess pulled away. Her face was splotchy, her eyes red, and she pulled her hair forward to cover her embarrassment.
“Tess, you did the right thing by calling me.”
Tess blew her hair out of her face. “You were the first person I could think of. I’m sorry I worried you. He’s fallen before and it’s not usually a big deal, but he’s been acting weird lately and I just wanted you to be here.”
“Don’t worry about me. Why don’t you take me to your dad.”
As she led her inside, she looked over her shoulder at Hannah. “He’ll be really mad at me for doing this.”
Hannah patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”
“He’s in there.” Tess pointed to the kitchen from the safety of the hallway.
Hannah peeked around the doorway. The counter was messy and things had fallen to the floor. An overhead light brightened the room. It wasn’t until she stepped in that she saw him, sitting in a chair brought in from the dining room. His face was contorted in a grimace. His good leg was bent and he was trying to lever himself to a standing position. He moaned.
A shiver of fear passed through her. She knelt by his side, hand on his arm. “Dan?”
He opened his eyes, locked his gaze with Hannah, before he shut them again. His face turned a dark red. “What are you doing here?”
“Tess called me. Are you okay? What happened?”
“I don’t want you here. I’m fine.” He tried to stand up, winced, and sat back on the chair, hands fisted on the edges of the seat, jaw clenched. He ignored Hannah’s outstretched arms.
Tess spoke from the doorway. “Daddy, you needed help and she was the only—”
“Tess, I’m fine,” he ground out as Tess entered the kitchen.
Hannah led Tess out of earshot. “Bring him a pillow for his head and maybe another for his leg. Give him pain killers—”
“He won’t take those.”
Seriously?“Okay, how about ibuprofen?”
Tess shook her head. “He won’t take anything at all.”
“But he needs it!”
Now Tess raised her hands.
“Okay, give him an ice pack and a heating pad. Alternate between the two in twenty-minute intervals.”
“I can do that.” Tess bit her lip, before backing out of the room.
When she was gone, Hannah turned her attention to Dan, trying to assess his injuries. There didn’t seem to be any obvious ones, which only made her feel a little better. She stroked his wrist.
“I said go.” He took short breaths through his teeth, which were bared in a grimace. He pulled his hand away. “She’s a teenager. The last time I checked, adults didn’t have to listen to them.”
“Smart ones do, though.”
He blew a breath through clenched teeth. “Why are you being so stubborn?”
“Because Tess is scared and I’m trying to do what’s best for her.” Which means helping a man who doesn’t want it.
Dan pushed himself forward, one arm braced against the counter. His face was pale. Beads of sweat popped on his forehead. “And you think I’m not?”
Hannah’s eyes widened at the tone of his voice. “Dan, this isn’t a me-versus-you thing. She’s worried about you.”
“For the last time, I’m telling you I don’t want your help.”
She rolled back on her heels and dropped his wrist. She searched his face, looking for some hidden desire for her to stay, a trace of his affection for her. There was nothing except anger. She tried to squelch her own anger and hurt simmering below the surface. No matter how horribly he was behaving, he was in pain. Now was not the time to discuss her feelings.
“Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”
“This has happened before, I’m fine.”
That damned word again. “Fine.” She strode out of the kitchen. “Tess,” she called, as she returned to the living room, “your dad…” What the heck was she supposed to say? Did she even know they’d broken up?
“What? Is he okay?” She held an ice pack and heating pad in her hand.
Hannah shrugged. “I don’t think it’s anything other than his normal leg pain, albeit more severe. I think he’d be more comfortable without me here.”
“He kicked you out?”
“No, but I don’t want to make things worse.” Hannah gave her a hug. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this yourself. I wish there was something I could do. He’ll be fine.” She hoped she spoke the truth. She was trying to comfort a teenager. Short of arranging for a boy band to serenade her, she didn’t know what to do. But her words seemed to do the trick. Tess nodded and seemed to relax.
“I’m going to go. If you get scared, you can call me. I’ll check in again with you later.” She turned to look at the math and science books strewn across the sofa and glass coffee table. “What do you need to do today? Anything I can help with?”
“No, I just have homework. I might go over to the JCC later to tutor, depending on how Dad is feeling.”
“Do you have enough food in the house? Did you eat breakfast? What about lunch?” Tess looked at her askance and Hannah laughed. “I sound like my grandmother, don’t I? Well, you know Jewish grandmothers—not having enough food is a sin.”
Tess shook her head.
“You don’t know that? Okay, well, trust me. My grandmother would forgive me for murdering someone. However, if I didn’t have enough food, I’d be banished from the family.”
At Tess’s wide-eyed look, Hannah patted her back. “Well, practically. Anyway, the point I’m trying to make is if you need anything from the grocery store, I can get it.”
“Nope, we’re good for today.”
“Tomorrow too?”
“Yup.”
She gave Tess a last hug, tossed a glance toward the kitchen and left. Dan was being an ass. She didn’t know why or for how long, but as soon as he could string two sentences together without gasping in pain, she was getting answers.
Dan lay in bed that evening, listening to Tess putter in the kitchen. Okay, he hoped she was puttering, rather than whipping up a poison milkshake to murder him. The sounds coming from the direction of the kitchen sounded harmless enough. For now.
She was angry.
He saw it in the set of her shoulders, in her flashing brown eyes every time she looked at him, right before they switched over to a combination of fear and anxiety. The fact she could manage any anxiety at all, no matter how delayed, killed him.
After Hannah left, Tess had helped him hobble into the bedroom. He wasn’t sure who suffered more—Tess straining under his weight, or his pride for having to depend on his daughter. But they’d managed.
“I thought you’d be hungry. I made some scrambled eggs and toast,” she said without making eye contact. She’d found a tray and arranged his meal on it to look like something straight out of the 1950s. The eggs, which were fluffy and perfect, sat in the middle of the plate, which sat in the middle of the tray. To its right was a glass of orange juice; to its left was a small plate with toasted bread, buttered lightly. All it needed was a flower.
Dammit. His daughter was not supposed to be the caregiver.
“Thank you. I am.” He raised himself to a seated position and spread the blanket on his lap in order to put the tray on top of it.
“Oh, I forgot silverware and a napkin. I’ll be right back.”
After not eating breakfast or lunch, he was starving. The aroma from the food made his mouth water. She might be a kid, but she made mean scrambled eggs.
Returning to his room, she placed the silverware and napkin on his tray without making eye contact. He reached for her and she looked at their clasped hands. He waited. After a few moments, she met his gaze.
“Are you all right?” she asked. “Do you need something else?”
He needed Hannah. Despite what a bastard he’d been to her. That was the problem. “No, I’m fine. I feel better. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She tried to pull away, but he held on. She frowned.
His heart squeezed in his chest. “I want to thank you for all you did for me today, sweetheart. I know you were scared. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for scaring you, and for the way I treated Hannah.”
Uncertainty flickered in her expression, her chest heaved, her nostrils flared. He could see the gold flecks in the brown irises, the individual eyelashes curl from her lids, the arch of her eyebrows. She was losing her “little girl” look and he caught a glimpse of the woman she would be. His hand lifted of its own accord, to bring her toward him in a hug, but he paused mid-lift and lowered it on the bed. He couldn’t bear the rejection he knew he would get.
He could tell by the set of her shoulders she didn’t want a hug from him.
What he wouldn’t give to go back ten years when life made sense. Before Beth died and he’d fallen apart, when Tess had been a little girl and everything could be fixed with a kiss. This time, he couldn’t fix things. He couldn’t explain to Tess why he needed to send Hannah away—it would scare her. So he stayed quiet, to absorb Tess’s anger and hoped they could move past it together.
From outside, thunder boomed. They both jumped. Lightning flashed, and rain—the same rain that had hovered since yesterday, and had caused him such knee pain—pelted the window. Another clap sounded, another flash of lighting seared through the window.
“Storm broke.” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded raspy. He cleared his throat.
Tess shuddered. “I hate the noise. I hate what you did to Hannah.”
He should explain…if he even had an explanation. But how could he discuss his fears about becoming addicted to Hannah to his little girl, who was growing up and would be trying to figure out her own way of loving someone soon?
Before he could figure out what to do, Tess rose and turned toward the door. With a wary glance out the window, she spoke. “I’ll let you eat in peace.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes I do. I’m Facetiming Lexi for homework. I have to go to the JCC to tutor.”
Dan’s stomach dropped. She was leaving. “You can’t go out now. You’ll get soaked.”
“I’ll wear my rain jacket. It has a hood.”
She left without another word. Later, he listened to the soft giggles from his living room as Tess talked with Lexi, and wondered for the hundredth time how things had changed so fast.