Her own heart lurched in fear.Oh Christ. He was having a heart attack.
The downslope of the embankment loomed before them. A nothing little hill, but she had to get him down and out to the road.
No. She needed to call 911.Now.
She fumbled for her phone, then realized with a swoop of panic she’d left it at home.
How could she have forgotten her phone?She could see it, charging innocently on the kitchen counter. She hadn’t even thought about it; she was going for a walk with her dad, practically within sight of the house. What on earth could happen?
He was trembling now, his face glistening with perspiration. She shouted for help, but her voice came out tinny. No one could hear, the neighbors too far away. Even the earthmovers were quiet today.
She tamped down a rising panic. No time to get him out of the woods. She needed help.Now.
“Dad, listen to me.” She took a breath, trying to steady her own galloping heart. “I don’t want to scare you, but we need to get you to the hospital.”
“The hospital? I don’t need to go to the hospital. I just need to lie down.”
She looked into his face, which was sheened with a fine sweat. “I want you to sit right here and don’t move. I’m going to run to the house and call for help.” She didn’t want to use the word ambulance. That would terrify him.
He allowed her to ease him to the ground. No flat rock to sit on, nothing even for him to lean against. A stout pine a couple of yards away but he would never make it. He sat heavily where she put him, crushing a small bed of ferns.
“I don’t feel right,” he murmured. “Got a tightness in my chest.”
She squatted in front of him, white hot with fear. She could lose him. He could die right here in the woods. “Daddy.” In spite of her effort to stay calm, her voice shook. “You’re going to be okay, you hear me? I’ll be right back. Don’t try to move. Just stay here and wait for me.” She sprang up, her heart exploding. Then quickly squatted again.
“I love you,” she said fiercely. “You hear me? I love you.”
Then she was off, taking the embankment in two long strides. She nearly stumbled at the bottom, then quickly regained her footing. She choked back a sob. So many irritants between them. And for what? She’d abandoned him after her mother died, secretly, shamefully wishing it had been him instead. Appalled she felt that way. She’d been a miserable daughter. That was the truth. She lived an hour away and rarely came to see him. And now he was having a heart attack, and she’d left him crumpled and alone in the woods.
She dashed blindly across the road, not even checking for cars, pounding up the driveway, pebbles flying. Her own heart racing like a trapped, terrified animal.
“Andrew!” she yelled as she plunged through the door. One small mercy at least. They never locked it. “Where are you? Grandpa’s having a heart attack!” Saying the words out loud seized her with a bottomless fear. It couldn’t happen like this. Not now. Not when she was finally beginning to find her way back to him. The father who’d loved her the best he could. Who’d always tried, even if she hadn’t seen it.
Her phone was right where she’d left it on the kitchen counter. The face ID was balky so she keyed in her password with shaky fingers. A howl of frustration as it denied her. She wiped her hands on her shirt and tried again. She was in! She tapped in911in a fury of impatience.
“I think it’s a heart attack,” she barked. “No, he has no history. Yes, he’s having trouble breathing. He’s in the goddamn woods, that’s where he is!”
Andrew stumbled downstairs, his face pale with fear. “Grandpa’s having a heart attack?”
“They’re sending an ambulance.” She raced out the door, phone in hand. “We’re across the street. Wait at the bottom of the driveway!”
She pelted back across the road and up the hill, shouting for her dad, but got no response. How long had she been gone? Three minutes, maybe four. The dispatcher was still on the line, a disembodied voice clutched in her hand.
Her father was in the same spot, lying in the fetal position now, gray and still. One of his pant legs had ridden up, exposing a pale leg.
She crouched down, rigid with fear. His breath was shallow, eyes glazed with pain.
But he was alive.
“Daddy.” She stroked his face, which was wet with perspiration. “They’ll be here any minute. Hang on.”
He nodded faintly. He’d heard her at least.
She cast about for something to keep him tethered to her.
“Remember when Mrs. Rostov almost had her baby at home, how fast they got there? They sent a fire truck, and we always joked that Warren would grow up to be a fireman, remember? Only he didn’t. I think he’s a stockbroker in the city somewhere. And the next time with Frannie she was two weeks late.” Why onearth did she even remember all this? The Rostovs had moved away years ago.
She strained to hear a siren. For God’s sake. Wherewerethey?
