Emery bent over Dad, hugging his shoulders, resting her cheek on his gray hair. “Everything’s going to be all right.” She tried to sound confident, though she knew nothing more than Joanna had collapsed. “What’s the final diagnosis?”
“They ran tests,” Elianna said. “She’s dehydrated, and her blood pressure is whack. Between the cafés and the wedding, she’s been going nonstop. This past weekend she worked in our warehouse without air conditioning or any fans. Never stopped to drink or eat.”
“The temperature was ninety-five in that windowless building,” Ava said.
“Em, can I get you something to eat?” Blakely rubbed her hand down Emery’s back. “Cafeteria is closed, but the vending machine has Clif bars.”
“I’m good.” She pressed her hand on Blakely’s. “I ate my weight in road-trip junk.”
“I’ll bringgoodcoffee and pastries from the café tomorrow.” Elianna stood on the other side of Dad, one hand on his shoulder, her attention on the silent machines checking Joanna’s oxygen, blood pressure, and heart rate. “No offense to the hospital cafeteria.”
Of all the scenarios Emery imagined she’d walk into—formed from Ava or Jamie’s distracted, spotty updates—a cocoon of family was not one of them.
“They gave her something to sleep,” Dad said. “But someone should stay with her. I don’t want her waking up alone.”
No, he wouldn’t. He feared Mom dying between hospice shifts while he was teaching at the university. Or while Emery was at school. Or if someone stepped into the kitchen for lunch.
“Let’s figure out who’s staying,” Ava said. “Dad, you need some rest. Elianna, you’ve got the cafés in the morning, and, Blake, you have school. I’ll stay if someone can bring my laptop. I can get work done in the quiet.”
“I’ll stay,” Emery said, glancing at Joanna, who looked so helpless and frail under the hospital blanket.
“Are you sure?” Dad said. “You’ve had a long drive.”
“Positive.” She patted the back of his chair. “I can sleep here. I did lots of chair sleeping with Mom.”
Dad squeezed her hand as if to say,We’vebeen here before,haven’t we?
There was some debate over the next morning’s schedule—who would relieve Emery—but in short order, she found herself alone in a dark room with Joanna.
Sitting in Dad’s chair, she fixed a wrinkle in the blanket, then finger-combed Joanna’s platinum hair, which was rarely out of place. Then cupped their hands together and waited, listening.
“Hey, you,” she whispered. “You’ve been in my life as long as my mom. Maybe going forward, I could try a little harder? Because this is making me realize how well you’ve loved me. But I’m so tired. Why don’t we just rest?”
She fell asleep on her folded arms, waking with a start when something touched her head.
“Emery?” Joanna said in a hoarse whisper. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey, Jo.” She shoved a lock of hair from her eyes and scootched the chair closer. “I was going to askyouthe same thing.”
“Oh, you know, a girl likes a little drama once in a while,” she said. “This is some pickle, isn’t it?”
“A very sour one.”
Joanna smiled. “Your dad likes to remind us how much you loved pickles as a girl. Is that why you’re here? A big pickle moment?”
“I’m here because you scared the wits out of me, Joanna.”
“Ah, just a bit of overwork. I knew I wasn’t drinking or eating enough. That warehouse was so hot, but I wanted to get it organized before the wedding. Why, I couldn’t tell you. I can’t remember the last time I slept more than five hours.”
“Listen, you can’t do this to Dad and me.” She pressed Joanna’s hand to her cheek, washing it with a tear. “He’s lost one wife. He can’t lose another.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Too stubborn.”
“And I’ve already lost a mom, Joanna. Icannotlose another.” Her gaze locked with Joanna’s glistening one.
“You’re not going to lose me. Not anytime soon. And it’s good to know you want me around.”
“I deserve that, don’t I?”
