Jesus. I’d just admitted my love for Heather to my ex-wife but never to Heather herself. I’d held that in long enough. Telling her I loved her was long overdue.
It was the middle of the day, and I was pretty sure she was in class. Still, I wondered if she’d pick up if I called. The need to get this off of my chest felt urgent.
To my disappointment, the phone just kept ringing. When her voicemail picked up, I left a message.
“Hey, baby. It’s me.” Scratching my head, I said, “I, uh, guess you’re in class. Figured that would be the case but thought I’d give it a try. Anyway, I have something important I need to say to you. So when you get home, give me a call. It can’t wait till the regular time. Hope you’re having a good day. Talk to you later.”
I reached over to the framed photo of Heather.
I’m a damn lucky man.
Feeling antsy, I decided to do some much-needed food shopping since I didn’t have any work scheduled. Bonnie was due to have her babies anytime now, and in the meantime, she was eating double. I needed to replenish my supplies.
The supermarket was pretty crowded for the middle of the day. I laughed when “Young Girl” by Gary Puckett and The Union Gap came on as I rolled down the frozen aisle. The guy in the song is warning the girl to stay away from his old ass. That was ironic as hell—especially since my father used to tease my mother with that very same song. Instead of letting the song freak me out, I decided to take it as a blessing from the universe.
The checkout line was long, and I felt a headache begin to pound. It had been lurking all day, but finally moved to the forefront.
The old man in front of me started a conversation about how vegetables give him gas. He must have thought I could relate given all of the roughage I was purchasing for the guinea pigs. Rubbing my temples, I admitted that all the greens were actually for my pets. Undeterred, he asked me some questions about that.
I tried to answer, but it became difficult to make sense of what he was saying. Finally, I just drew a blank.
A rush of dizziness washed over me, and everything went black.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
* * *
HEATHER
There was no answer when I called Noah back. His message had me curious. Had he thought better of where things were going with us? Was he having doubts? What on Earth did he need to talk to me about that couldn’t wait until our evening phone call?
When the phone rang a little while later and I saw it was him, my heart sped up a bit.
With a smile on my face, I answered. “Hey!”
My stomach dropped at the sound of a baritone voice I didn’t recognize.
“Is this Heather?”
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“This is Neil Cavallari, Noah’s father.”
Noah’s…father?
“Oh. Hi. Where’s Noah? Is everything okay?”
His voice was shaky. “I’m afraid not. Noah collapsed while out shopping today. The doctors think he has a ruptured aneurysm.”
It took a few seconds for his words to compute. “Excuse me? What?”
“They just took him into surgery. We don’t know—”
“He’s alive?”
“Yes.”
My heart started beating again.
His words were all jumbled. “They don’t know how much damage was done to his brain. We won’t know anything until he’s out of surgery. I wish I could tell you more, but there’s no news yet. I know how much you mean to him. They gave me his phone, and I found your number.”
I felt frozen. I couldn’t speak.
“Are you there?” he asked.
“Yes…”
“They expect the surgery to last about five hours. He just went in. They can’t tell me anything until it’s over.”
Five hours. I have five hours to get there.
“Will you text me the address? I need to get on the next plane.”
“Yes, of course.”
Somehow I got off the phone with him, though I wasn’t sure I even said goodbye. Ming walked in and saw the frozen look on my face.
“Are you okay?”
I silently shook my head.
“What happened?”
Barely able to get a word out, I muttered, “Noah…”
“Oh my God. What’s wrong?”
Everything came out in fragments. “He…I…need to get on a plane. I need a ticket. He’s in surgery. Aneurysm. I can’t—”
“Okay. Calm down. It’s okay. Just tell me which airport?”
I rubbed my temples. “Uh…Philadelphia.”
“I’m calling right now. Grab your stuff.”
I ran to my chest of drawers and threw clothes into a tote.
Ming rushed me downstairs where her father was waiting in the car normally used for food delivery. It smelled like crab rangoon and egg rolls.
She kept ordering him to drive faster. “Hurry!”
That was the only thing I understood because everything else was spoken in Chinese.
“When does the flight leave?” I finally managed to ask.
“An hour from now.”
I felt her hand on my back, rubbing. What would I be faced with when I got to Pennsylvania? I couldn’t accept anything less than Noah being absolutely okay. He was my strength, my rock—my entire world.
I couldn’t let my mind go to the dark side. I needed to be there. I needed to be strong for him.
After Ming’s father parked the car at the drop-off area, I expected her to say goodbye. Instead she grabbed my hand and prompted me to run with her. “Come on.”
“You don’t have to come with me. I can board myself.”
“Are you kidding? I’m not letting you go to Pennsylvania alone.”
She’s coming with me?
“You don’t even have a bag.”
“I don’t need one. Come on.”
“Thank you,” I breathed, overwhelmed by her gesture.
“Of course.”
We managed to board the plane in the nick of time. When the engines roared, it was the first moment I could breathe. I was on my way to him. Ming grabbed my hand as we took off, and once again I thanked my lucky stars that I didn’t have to go through this by myself.
As I stared out at the night sky from thousands of feet in the air, I tried not to think the worst. I tried not to focus on the fact that I knew damn well that aneurysms were bad news. In high school, I’d lost my beloved music teacher to one. But that wasn’t going to happen to Noah. No. No. It couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to think about that.
Focus on the raindrops on the window. Focus on the sound of the juice cart being wheeled down the aisle. Focus on the feel of Ming’s hand.
***
The hospital was about a thirty-minute drive from the airport. I’d done a good job of not focusing on the negative while on the plane, but things felt different now that I was on land again. I wanted to be better prepared for whatever I might find, so I made the mistake of Googling aneurysms on my phone in the car.
Fifteen percent of patients die before ever reaching the hospital.
Four out of seven people will have disabilities.
Even if people survive a rupture, there’s a chance of re-bleeding. Approximately seventy percent of those people die.
My phone fell out of my hands, and I felt myself hyperventilate.
Ming held on to me. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
“Nothing can happen to him,” I cried.
I kept wanting Ming to tell me everything was going to be okay, but she never did. I knew she didn’t want to promise something she couldn’t guarantee.
When we got to the hospital, Ming did all of the talking to find out where we needed to go. As we entered the surgical waiting area, I realized I didn’t even know what Noah’s dad looked like. Just when I was about to text Noah’s phone, someone called my name.
“Heather?”
I turned around to find an older man with Noah’s big brown eyes staring back at me—eyes that looked red from crying.
“Yes!” I cried. “Hi.”
“No news yet. He’s still in surgery,” he said as he pulled me in for a hug.
His warmth was comforting. So relieved to finally be here, I expelled a breath. At least nothing had changed for the worse. There was still hope.
“Are you alone?” I asked him.
“Yes. Noah’s mother and brother are flying in from Minneapolis, but they won’t get here for another few hours.”
It broke my heart that he’d been waiting here by himself.
“Oh, um…this is my friend Ming. She accompanied me here.”
“Hi,” he said.