Chapter 29
Willow
Istare blankly at my computer this morning, thinking over the conversation I had with Aspen yesterday, when my phone rings, I pick it up, and see a number I don’t recognize.
Answering, I bring it to my ear, “This is Willow.”
“Hi Willow, I am a nurse here at the hospital in Windy Peaks. Your grandfather, Vern, is here. You were one of his emergency contacts, and we were wondering if you were in the area and if you could head this way?” The woman's voice is calm, the polar opposite of what her words have done to me.
“Yeah, I can be right there. Is he okay?” I stand up from the chair, grabbing my purse.
“He’s being evaluated right now; it’s looking like he potentially had a heart attack. We should know more upon your arrival.”
“Okay, I will be right there.” The second the call ends, I run to the truck as fast as my legs will let me. My hands shake as I fumble with the key, trying to put it in the ignition, tears blurring my vision.
I won’t believe he’s okay until I see it with my own eyes. He’s all I have left in this world. The only person who has ever chosen me, and the thought of him not being okay, makes my heart feel like it’s being torn apart.
When I turned the key over in the ignition, the engine made a rumbling sound. This truck is older than I am; hell, it’s probably older than Jack, and sometimes it takes a few times to get going. I try again and again and again, no luck, no sound of the engine roaring to life.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why today?” I say, as I angrily slap my hand against the steering wheel, my breath coming in quick, heavy pants.
My head sinks into my hands as tears stream down my face. I can feel the panic taking over, all sense of logic and rational thinking is out the window.
Reaching over the cab, I pull my phone out of my purse and search for Aspen’s contact.
I click on the call option and press it to my ear.
Aspen’s voice comes over the speaker, but unfortunately, it’s her voicemail.
Why today of all days is this woman not answering her phone? She’s supposed to be off work today.
I go back to my contacts and click on Weston’s contact. He picks up after the first ring. “Are you on your way to the hospital?” He spits the words out so quickly, I have to take a second to process them.
“No, the stupid truck won’t start, and I couldn’t get a hold of Aspen, and I really need to get there, West.” My voice cracks as emotion floods through me.
“Okay, I was already on my way to you. I’ll be there in about three minutes.”
“Thank you, I’m sorry.” I feel bad for taking more time out of his day. He’s constantly having to switch things up for me.
“Don’t be. I was on my way to you the second I got the call.”
Confusion halts my panic attack, and I’m grateful, but so very lost. “How did you know he was there? I just got the call.”
“Well, when you moved away, he needed a new emergency contact that could, you know, be local, so he put me down.” He says the words slowly, as if he’s walking on eggshells.
An overwhelming feeling blooms in my chest. “You’ve been my grandpa’s emergency contact while I’ve been away?”
A wave of emotion runs through my body. Gratitude.
Longing. Thankful, but most importantly, forgiveness.
I’ve been trying to edge him out the entire time I’ve been here.
Scared that he’s going to let me down and hurt me again, but I don’t think that he will.
I’ve been suppressing my feelings for him since the second I pulled back into town, but I can’t anymore, not after this.
“Are you mad?” He has his voice sounding tender and soft.
Throwing my head back against the seat, I let out a huge breath, mostly of relief, relief that I can finally let go of this resentment and darkness that has been clouding over me.
“I’ve never been more grateful for you in my life.
Thank you, West. I will never be able to thank you enough for being there for him when I couldn’t be. ”
The difference is I could be there. I could’ve been here this whole time, but instead I chose to chase a dream in New York, a dream that never panned out; that’s all New York was.
If I had any question in my mind if I was thinking about heading back, this absolutely seals the deal.
I’m going to finish this project, and that’ll be my last day working for them. I think it’s time I come home for good.
“There's no reason to thank me, Sunshine. I’m happy to fill your shoes when you can’t be here, as best I can.”
I didn’t think it was possible to smile in a time like this, but somehow he has managed to brighten a dark situation. “You're one of the best people I know, West. I’m sure you filled my shoes just fine.”
He’s quiet on the other end of the line, and I wonder if maybe I said something wrong, but he clears his throat and says, “That means a lot hearing it come from you. There’s not a lot of people's opinion I care about, but yours, yours matters.”
Not knowing what to say to that, I stay quiet. “Please stay on the phone with me till you get here. I’m scared.”
“I know, baby, he’ll be fine. He’s a hell of a lot tougher than people give him credit for.”
His words help calm my racing heart, but the anxiety of losing the only family I have left stays on my mind. “I know I just can’t lose him. He’s my only family. Well, my only family who actually wants me, I should say.”
“Anyone who doesn’t want to be in your life is a fucking idiot, take it from somebody who thought letting you go was the right thing to do. It wasn’t.” There is no hesitation in his words.
“You mean that?” My voice comes out softer than I want it to. A whisper of hope, and maybe the start of something new.
“With every ounce of my being. Where are you at? I’m pulling into the ranch right now.”
“I’m in your office.” Really, I could work from anywhere. But being in his space has been the only hidden way I could feel close to him.
Weston’s truck comes into view, and I let out a sigh of relief.
It’s like my body knows that when he’s near, I’m safe and everything’s going to be ok.
That I can breathe, break down if I need to, and someone will be there to put me back together.
It’s funny how quickly my trust in him came back.
Maybe I’ll regret it, but I think I might regret not letting it go more.
His truck comes to a stop beside me, and he flies out of his driver’s door, running over to me.
His hands come up and cradle my face, his thumb swipes under my eyes, wiping away the tears that won’t stop falling. “The doctor said he’s okay. I know it’s scary, but he’s gonna be fine. Come here.”
He drags me to his chest and wraps his big, muscled arms around me, and I swear I’ve never felt safer in my life.
A sob rocks through me. I know he’s probably fine, but hearing that he had a heart attack made my heart drop.
Because he’s fine this time, but what about next?
What if I don’t get to make up for any other time I wasted?
Weston’s hand wraps around the back of my head, smoothing my hair down as he tries to calm me down.
“I know I’m being ridiculous, that call just scared me.”
“You’re not being ridiculous, being scared for someone you love is absolutely justifiable. Let’s get you to the hospital so you can lay eyes on him yourself.”
“Okay.” I pull away from his chest and nod.
Weston takes my head back into his hands. “Everything is going to be okay. I promise. Take a deep breath.” He doesn’t let my face go until he watches me take a deep breath, which does help.
He laces his fingers with mine when we walk to the truck, not letting go until I get into the truck.
He hops back in, backing out far enough until he can turn around and get back on the main drive to get on the road.
Right about now, I wish he would have driven the old truck, the one where I could sit in the middle seat and still be close to him.
That’s all I want right now. There are one billion people on this planet, and I think he’s the only one who makes me feel okay when my world is crashing down.
I wish I could ask him to hold my hand, but I don’t know how. It feels scary to bridge that gap.
It’s almost like this man can read my mind, because his hand comes over the center console and grabs the hand I was toying with. He gives it a squeeze, and I look over to him and give him a small smile of reassurance.
When we pull up to the hospital, we park in the ER parking lot. It takes everything in me not to full-out sprint inside.
I get out of the truck and wipe my tears from my eyes. But it’s no use. My mascara has streaked halfway down my face, and my hair is a mess from me running my hands through it so many times, and my distress, in short, I’m a hot mess.
The walk to the sliding glass doors is short and the walk to the waiting room and check-in desk is even shorter.
“Hi, I’m Willow, and my grandpa Vern is here.
I was wondering if we could get back there to see him.
” The receptionist must be in her late sixties, lowers her glasses to get a look at Weston and me, with a knowing grin, she says, “He said you guys would be on your way. Let me take you back.” She waves her hand for us to follow.
Weston comes up behind me and places a reassuring hand on my lower back as we walk into the treatment bay area.
When my grandpa comes into view, my hand flies to my chest. He’s connected to all sorts of wires and has an oxygen hose up to his nose. I hate seeing him like this.
I rush to his side. “Grandpa, how are you feeling?”
“Oh, Lolo, I’m doing fine. There’s no need for all those tears. Weston, what are you doing here?” But he says it sarcastically enough that I’m pretty sure he somehow knew we would be together when we arrived.
“I told you to lay off the bacon.” My voice is full of authority. “And he’s with me. I needed a ride out here.” Because my luck with vehicles since I’ve been here has been downright terrible.
“Hm. Well, it looks like my health crisis might’ve done some good after all.” He wags his eyebrows at me.
My eyes roll. "Yeah, yeah. Did they say what the plan is?” Clearly, he’s doing pretty darn well. He’s back to his meddling.
“Well, looks like I’m gonna need a stent.
I think they’re gonna have me stay here tonight and transfer me out in the morning to a facility with a cardiologist to do the stent.
But you know, doctors and all their medical mumbo-jumbo, who knows.
But I do know they said I’m gonna be all right and that they caught it in time. ”
I pull up a chair to sit beside him and grab his hand. His skin feels warm, and when he gives me a little squeeze, he still feels strong, which gives me more reassurance that he’s feeling strong too. Weston comes up beside me and places a hand on my shoulder, grounding me as always.
After about twenty minutes of chit-chatting, the doctor walks in and extends his hand to me. “You must be Willow, the granddaughter.”
“That would be me. I’m hoping you can give me more information than this old man can.”
“Your grandpa has coronary artery disease and will need a stent as of right now. I don’t believe he’s in any major danger.
We have an accepting facility that we will ambulance him to in the morning, and he has surgery scheduled for eleven am tomorrow.
We’re going to keep him overnight for observation.
I have no reason to believe he’s not going to make a full recovery. ”
Hearing it come from the doctor's mouth himself has me finally believing that he’s really okay.
Well, mostly, apart from the coronary artery disease, but realistically, that’s relatively common in people his age.
But I’m definitely going through his fridge while he’s in the hospital and restocking it with healthier foods.
I want this man around as long as humanly possible.
We stay and visit, the nurse even has a deck of cards, so we challenged Grandpa to a game of rummy. With no sleeves, Grandpa couldn’t cheat, so he only won one of the games.
He lets out a big yawn. “You two should get out of here. It’s getting late and I already know you’re gonna be following me around tomorrow.”
“You scared me so bad that I’m probably gonna be following you around for the rest of your life.” He’s probably never going to be allowed out of my sight again.
He widens his eyes as he looks over to Weston for help. “Looks like I’ll be changing the locks at the house.”
“Grandpa!” I scold him as I stand up out of my chair.
“I’m only joking. Weston, you take care of my girl tonight. Make sure she gets something to eat.”
Weston nods as he slips his hands into his pockets, a lazy smile on his face. “I can do that.”
Judging by the smile on his face, I think he’s all too happy to be taking care of me. And judging by the way my heart is racing right now, I think I’m a little too happy, too.