I laugh because I’ve created a monster. Turning to look at the clock on the dresser, I observe, “We do have at least an hour before I have to be over at sound check.”
“Lots of stuff we can do in an hour,” she ponders.
Yup… totally invigorated, and I think I’m ready to go again. But before I can roll over on top of her, my phone rings. I recognize Midge’s ring tone.
With a sigh, I roll away from Emma and grab my jeans off the floor, fishing my phone out. When I connect, I say drily, “You have impeccable timing, Aunt Midge.”
I expect her to laugh and demand to know what I’m talking about, because we share the same wit. Hell, my wit is patterned off hers. Instead, I go cold when she says, “Evan… I’m calling about Emma’s father.”
My eyes cut to Emma as she lies on the bed, smiling at me softly.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, although I can tell by the tone of her voice that I’m going to need to get Emma on a flight back East as soon as possible.
CHAPTER 20
Emma
I take a deep breath as I look at the electronic sliding doors of Rex Hospital’s patient tower. I’m exhausted, and I feel grungy from the long flight across the country. It’s almost eight AM, and I came straight here from the airport via a taxi.
Releasing my hold on my small carry-on suitcase, I reach into my purse and pull out my phone. I shoot a quick text off to Evan.
Made it. Getting ready to go into the hospital. Will update later.
I hit send and then drop the phone back into my purse, square my shoulders, and grab the handle of my rolling case. Halfway through my first confident stride to the doors, which cause them to open, my phone rings.
Evan.
I once again release the handle of my suitcase so I can grab my phone. Stabbing at the connect button, I take a step back from the doors so they can slide closed.
“What are you doing awake?” is the first thing I say into the phone, because it’s only five AM in California and I know damn well Evan probably just went to sleep a few hours ago.
“We pulled into San Francisco about an hour ago, and Red and I went out for a very early breakfast,” he says softly. “We couldn’t sleep.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmur back. I know he has to be exhausted.
“We’re worried about you,” he returns.
“Well, don’t be,” I assure him. “I called Dad as soon as I landed and he sounds good. I’m going to go up and hopefully talk to the doctor on morning rounds, and I’ll let you know what’s going on.”
“Okay. I miss you.”
“Miss you too,” I whisper back. “Now try to get some sleep.”
“Okay, babe,” he says, and I disconnect.
And God… how I miss him. Gone less than twelve hours and already I’m yearning to get back to Evan. To life on the road. With a rock star. Law practice be damned.
What in the hell has happened to me?
With shoulders squared once more, I march into the hospital a woman on a mission. To verify for myself that my dad is okay, figure out what we need to do to get him back on his feet, and then figure out my life. While I still technically had another week promised to Evan for our original thirty-day agreement to tour with him, he asked me a very important question just before I left.
He couldn’t take me to the airport as he had a little thing called a concert he had to give, but he had me wrapped up in a very tight hug as a taxi idled nearby, one that Tyler had apparently arranged along with my flight.
“I want you to come back as soon as you can,” he murmured against my ear.
I didn’t hesitate in the slightest. “Okay.”
“And I want you to stay for the entire tour,” he added on.
Again, no hesitation. My heart was making quick decisions for me. “Okay.”
So it seems I’m going to be touring with Evan for the next few months, and I have no clue in what capacity. I’m assuming girlfriend, but perhaps I’ll still work for him. We’ll have to iron out those details.
I make my way to the fourth floor—the cardiac unit—and start looking for his room.
4005.
My dad assured me all was well and ordered that I was not to worry about him when I talked to him last night while waiting for my flight to board. Turns out, Dad went into work that morning and after about an hour, started having some chest pain.
He ignored it.
It didn’t go away.
He also started feeling a bit nauseated and the pain got worse.
He popped an aspirin, but ignored it a little longer.
Only after he mentioned the chest pain to Midge did he go to the emergency room. It was at her insistence, and I owe her a huge debt of gratitude for making him go.
Turns out, he had two blockages in his heart—which freaked me out—but they were able to put stents in—which alleviated some of my alarm, and it appears that’s corrected the problem without the need for bypass surgery.
It seems as if all is going to be well, and my dad sounded strong and jovial when I talked to him a bit ago after I landed.