Chapter Nineteen #3
“I need to call Aunt Shelly,” she said, suddenly remembering her sister didn’t know any of this and would be going about her day as if nothing in the world were the matter.
She squeezed Andrew’s arm and stepped outside into the glare of the parking lot.
Only a little after five but it felt like decades since she’d started down the driveway with her dad.
If only they’d stayed on the pavement and not attempted the woods.
What had she been thinking, allowing him to climb that hill?
They could be home right now, her dad settled in front of the TV or fussing over a puzzle.
But maybe his heart had been waiting to give out, treacherously biding its time.
Maybe it would have turned on him no matter what he did.
“Shel,” she said when her sister picked up.
For half a beat, she thought wildly of not telling her.
Shelly had always been the diligent one—checking on their dad even from a distance, making sure he was okay.
Keeping Cassie, so consumed with her own life, updated.
She should spare her sister this anguish now.
What could Shelly do from California anyway?
But the sound of her sister’s voice did her in.
“Hey,” Shelly said, “what’s going on? You don’t sound good.”
“It’s Daddy,” Cassie said and began to cry.
She recounted it all—what had started as a promising walk, his increasing discomfort, how she’d run for her phone.
She told her everything—the CPR, the monstrous defibrillator.
Shelly let her tell it and only when Cassie had finished asked the thing she’d forgotten to say. The most important thing of all.
“What do we know now?”
“Nothing,” Cassie said, exhausted. She’d moved a few steps away from the door, all the while keeping an eye out for a doctor. “He was alive when they took him, but I don’t know if he is now,” she said bleakly.
“If he wasn’t, they would have told you.” Her sister at her sensible best, even with her own fear.
“You think?” Cassie had no idea if this was true, but she clung to it like a lifeline.
“Believe me, they always tell you the bad news.”
“Oh Shel.”
“It’ll be all right. I’m sure it will. Is Glenn there with you?”
“I called you first.”
“Call him. You need someone there. As soon as I get off the phone I’m going to book a flight.”
“You’re coming?” Cassie’s heart, battered and bruised, lifted ever so slightly.
“Of course I’m coming, you idiot. And don’t even think about picking me up at the airport. I’ll get an Uber.”
After she hung up with Shelly, she called Glenn, who was there in ten minutes. He folded her into his arms, and even Andrew looked relieved to see him.
“He’s tough,” Glenn said, taking a seat next to them. He’d come straight from someone’s hives and was in his work boots with bits of mud clinging to them. “When that bee stung him in the eye it hardly slowed him down.” She knew this was for Andrew’s benefit, but it bucked her up too.
“Yeah, but this was a heart attack,” Andrew said. “Cardiac arrest. That’s when the heart stops beating and—”
“We don’t know anything for sure yet,” Cassie said, setting a hand on his arm to prevent him from pulling up another article.
It had been forty-five minutes, and no one had come out to tell them a thing.
Every time the doors swung open she jumped but it was always someone in scrubs, walking briskly in or out. No one with news about her father.
“They got him here quick,” Glenn said. “These days there’s all kinds of stuff they can do.” From the adjoining chair, he held her hand. He was strong and calm and she wanted to believe him.
“How you holding up?” he said, moving to the couch when Andrew got up to stretch his legs.
She leaned into him. She’d been trying to hold it together, staying upbeat for Andrew’s sake. But Glenn’s solid warmth undid her. She dropped her face into her hands and cried.
“It’s okay.” He stroked her back. “It’s all right to cry.”
“What was I thinking, I never should have let him go up there in the first place.”
“You couldn’t have known. At least you were with him. Think of that.” He drew her close as she sobbed into his chest.
“But I haven’t been there for him. I’ve left him alone. I don’t mean today but all this time. He never complained, never asked for help. I should have come more often. I might have noticed something.”
“Don’t beat yourself up.” He kissed her forehead gently. “You’re here now and that’s what counts.” He let her cry, holding her until she was too wrung out to shed another tear, until she had nothing left.
She sat up, quivery and exhausted. Andrew had come back and was watching her worriedly.
“Hey sweetie,” she said, wiping her eyes. “We still haven’t heard anything.”
“Andrew, you hungry?” Glenn said. “It’s after six. How about we go down to the cafeteria and see what they have?”
Andrew looked at Cassie, who nodded. “I guess I am a little hungry,” he allowed.
“Go on,” she urged with a grateful glance at Glenn. “I’ll be here.”
As soon as they left, the doctor appeared. A very young doctor with dark curls and tortoiseshell glasses who barely looked older than Andrew. Her heart sank at the sight of him. How could someone so young know anything?
But the doctor, who appeared slightly more mature up close with surprising flecks of gray in his hair, reported that her father was stable.
“You mean he’s alive?” Cassie stammered.
“Very much so.” He smiled briefly. “One of the arteries was completely blocked, but he was lucky. We performed angioplasty to open it up, then put in a stent. It doesn’t look like too much damage to the heart muscle, but we’ll know more in a day or two.”
“Can I see him?” Cassie asked, a bubble of happiness rising in her chest. She would see her father again. They would have time to spend together. They had both been handed a reprieve.
“He’s still in the CCU.” The doctor checked his watch. “They’ll probably keep him there overnight then admit him to the cardiac ward. Might be better to come back in the morning.”
He turned to go, but Cassie said, “He has memory issues. He might be confused.”
“I’ll note that in his chart.” The doctor hesitated. “Just so you know, this might make it worse. Hospitals can be disorienting, especially after a major trauma like this.”
But she refused to be dampened. She hurried to the cafeteria to find Andrew and Glenn. They would bring her dad home and he would recover. She would handle whatever came next. And Shelly would be here too.
She caught up with them as Glenn was paying for sodas and sandwiches. The two of them were talking, and Andrew was actually smiling. She felt a rush of gratitude for Glenn’s easy way with him. When Glenn saw her he gave Andrew a nudge. “Your mom’s here.”
She hugged Andrew and then Glenn and the cashier beamed and wished them well. “He’s resting now,” Cassie said. “We can come back in the morning.”
They brought the sandwiches home, turkey for them and a veggie wrap for her.
The house seemed empty without her dad, who filled it even in his diminished state.
They would need to set up a bed for him in the family room; he wouldn’t be able to manage the stairs.
And there would be rehab. But she couldn’t think of all that now.
Tonight it was enough that he’d made it.
They took the sandwiches out to the porch.
The birdhouse her dad had built years ago swung as a pair of wrens bustled in and out, stuffing it with bits of twig and brush.
One of them always in flight, the males and females equal partners in the business of outfitting a home.
It seemed impossible the day had gone on so long.
All at once Andrew set down his sandwich. “We need to get his cane. We forgot it in the woods.”
“Right, the cane.” Cassie jumped up. It seemed intolerable to leave it there.
“It’s not going anywhere,” Glenn said. “Why don’t you wait until the morning?”
One of the wrens was pouring its heart out from a nearby branch. For such small birds they were surprisingly loud. She sat back, utterly exhausted. The thought of returning to the woods in the near dark was too much. “I guess you’re right, he doesn’t need it this very minute.”
“I’ll get it first thing,” Andrew promised.
“I’ll let you.” She settled into the wicker chair and the three of them sat companionably on the porch, finishing their sandwiches and watching the wrens until the birds disappeared for the night.
Tomorrow was another day.