“What’s she doing here?”
Gavin’s mother shot Mick a look. “Not now, Michael. Focus on your father.”
Gavin reached for Elizabeth’s hand and twined his fingers with hers.
“I can go sit in the waiting room.”
Gavin pinned her with his gaze. “I need you here with me.”
She nodded. “I’m here for you as long as you want me.”
The doctor finally came out. “We’re going to run some tests. It’ll be a while before I can tell you anything for sure.”
“Was it a heart attack?” Gavin’s mother asked.
Gavin and Mick put their arms around their mother.
The doctor nodded. “Yes. We’re going to examine the extent of the damage next. Once we run more tests, we’ll know. Why don’t you all go to the waiting lounge, and I’ll have someone come and get you after we’re finished.”
“Can I see my dad before you take him for the tests? I just got here.”
“That’s fine. Only for a few seconds.”
Gavin pushed through the sliding glass door, his heart dropping as he saw his dad, pale and hooked up to a bunch of beeping machines. His eyes were closed.
Gavin had never once in his life seen his father look so frail. He fought back tears and put on a smile as he walked in and took his father’s hand.
“Hey, Dad.”
His father’s eyes blinked open. “Hey, kiddo. Guess maybe I took on one too many home-improvement projects.”
Gavin slumped in relief. His father’s trademark sense of humor was still intact. “I blame the lawn mower.”
His dad laughed. “Damn thing. I’ll beat it yet.”
“That’s the spirit. You’re going to be fine.”
“Yeah, I am. Don’t you forget it. I’m not leaving you yet.”
“Didn’t think you were.” If he fell apart in front of his father, it would be the worst thing that could happen.
“Stay strong for your mother. She needs you and your brother most of all.”
Gavin lifted his chin and nodded. “You got it, Dad. Don’t worry about anything.”
A nurse came in. “We need to prep your father now.”
He squeezed his dad’s fingers. “Buck up. We’ll see you soon.”
His dad squeezed back. “I will.”
Gavin stepped into the hall and waited. When they wheeled his dad out, his mom gave him a kiss, then they all watched as he was taken down the hall. When his mother broke and fell against Mick’s chest, Tara and Jenna comforted her.
Gavin felt . . . lost.
They moved to a waiting area one of the staff directed them to, a room with a television and magazines. They sat in silence, all of them no doubt absorbed in their own thoughts. That lasted for about fifteen minutes before Gavin stood and started pacing the room.
“Mind not doing that in front of the television?” Mick asked.
“Since the TV is in the middle of the room, that’s kind of hard unless I leave the room.”
Mick gave him a pointed look.
“Tough shit,” Gavin said. “Deal with it.”
Mick stood.
So did their mother. “Boys, please. I have enough to deal with.”
Tara stood and pulled Mick back into a chair, whispered to him. He looked pissed. Gavin didn’t give a shit.
Elizabeth stood and linked her fingers with Gavin. “I’d love a cup of coffee. Go with me?”
He knew she was trying to defuse the brewing fight between Mick and him, which was probably a wise move. He didn’t feel like putting up with his brother right now.
Instead, he turned to Elizabeth and nodded. “We’ll be right back.”
No one acknowledged his comment, so he walked out the door with Elizabeth. She led him through the maze until they found a vending machine where they bought two coffees. They found a waiting area that was deserted, so they sat and sipped their coffee in the quiet.
“This is terrible coffee,” she said.
“Yeah,” he replied, though he hadn’t even noticed the taste of the coffee. It was a caffeine jolt, so that was good enough. Not that he even needed the caffeine. He was wide awake and would stay that way as long as it took to . . .
To what? To cure his father? How long did it take to cure a heart attack? Was there even a “cure,” or did you just change your lifestyle and move on from there?
Shit. So much he didn’t know. He leaned over and laid his forearms on his knees.
Elizabeth rubbed his back.
“That feels good.”
“You’re doing a lot of thinking.”
“How can you tell? Are my brains leaking out my ears?”
She let out a soft laugh. “No. But you go really quiet when you do a lot of thinking. Want to talk about it?”
He sat up and faced her. “I don’t know anything about heart attacks. What’s going to happen now? Does he modify his diet and do more exercise, and then he’ll be fine? Or does he have to have surgery?”
“I imagine that depends on the severity of the blockage. If it’s not too bad, a change in diet and exercise might help him.”
“And if it’s more than that?”
“Then they’ll need to do more.”
“Like?”