“Caden,” I growled, taking the phone from Emily. “Just have them kick the ball back and forth and give them snacks in between. No need for sabotage.”
“Fine,” he sighed. “But we got this. Just take care of your mom.”
“Thank you,” Emily said before jabbing the screen to end the call.
“I really hope he doesn’t tell the kids to trip anyone.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks.
“I think he was kidding. Mostly. But Sabrina will keep him in check.”
She nodded, her eyes roaming my face as another heavy silence fell over us.
“Ms. Patterson?”
Emily jumped up from the seat as a doctor came up to us.
“Yes. How’s my mother?”
Emily’s chest deflated when he smiled.
“Lucky. Her hip has a minor fracture, so I don’t think she needs a replacement. But she will need surgery. Orthopedics will be by this afternoon to look and come up with a plan moving forward. She has a nice bump on her head but just a minor concussion.”
Emily leaned against me as the tension melted from her shoulders.
“Can I see her?”
“She’s up and awake and asking whatever nurse stops in when she can eat.”
She pressed a hand to her chest.
“That means she’s going to be okay,” she said, turning to me with a watery smile.
“I’d say so,” I said, chuckling as I wrapped my arms around her waist.
“You can go see her now,” the doctor said, motioning to the double doors behind her. “She’s in curtain three.”
“Thank you,” Emily croaked out.
She cried into my chest, her shoulders shaking as she let out a soft sob.
“Don’t cry,” I crooned as I rubbed her back. “It’s going to be fine. She’s okay. And if we don’t find her a muffin or something, she’s probably going to raise some hell back there.”
She backed away with a soggy chuckle, her face still in her hands.
“Come with me,” she said, grabbing my hand.
“It’s okay, Em. I’ll wait out here for you.”
She shook her head. “She needs to get used to you again.”
The beautiful and easy smile spreading across her lips, along with her assumption I’d be sticking around, ignited a glimmer of hope in my chest.
“Hey, Mom,” Emily whispered after she pulled the curtain open.
“Why are you whispering?” Mrs. Patterson crinkled her nose. “It’s morning, isn’t it? Everyone’s awake.”
Mrs. Patterson had always been a petite woman, but she seemed even tinier in the hospital bed. Her cropped blond hair was now white and shorter, sticking up as she ran an IV-covered hand through it in frustration.
“They told me you had a concussion, so I didn’t want to make your headache worse. Thanks for the scare, Mom.” Emily kissed her cheek and took a seat next to the bed.
