“Have a seat,” the receptionist told her. “It could be a while.” She looked past Cassie to a middle-aged couple behind her, the man hunched over his stomach in a protective way.
“How will we—” Cassie began, but the receptionist waved her off. “Ma’am, you need to have a seat. Someone will let you know.”
An ambulance with lights and sirens barreled past to the emergency entrance where patients were unloaded. She hurried to the wall of windows, her stomach hiking in alarm. But her dad was already here. She knew that. Somewhere inside this byzantine building they were trying to save him.
She sank onto the couch next to Andrew, who glanced up anxiously. She shook her head. “They don’t know anything yet.”
“You think he’ll make it?” His voice was small.
Something big and terrifying rushed up inside her, and she pressed a hand to her mouth to keep it from escaping. “I don’t know, sweetie. I really don’t know.”
“They got him here in the golden hour. I was just reading about it. There’s a much better chance of a good outcome within the first sixty minutes after a heart attack.” He showed her the article on his phone, trying to steady himself with facts, so much like his grandfather. But she couldn’t concentrate. All she could see was her dad lying in the dirt, the hand with the wedding ring he still wore shuddering as the current coursed through him.
“I need to call Aunt Shelly,” she said, suddenly remembering her sister didn’t know any of this and would be going about her day as if nothing in the world were the matter. She squeezed Andrew’s arm and stepped outside into the glare of the parking lot. Only a little after five but it felt like decades since she’d started down the driveway with her dad. If only they’d stayed on the pavement and not attempted the woods. What had she been thinking, allowing him to climb that hill? They could be home right now, her dad settled in front of the TV or fussing over a puzzle. But maybe his heart had been waiting to give out, treacherously biding its time. Maybe it would have turned on him no matter what he did.
“Shel,” she said when her sister picked up. For half a beat, she thought wildly of not telling her. Shelly had always been the diligent one—checking on their dad even from a distance, making sure he was okay. Keeping Cassie, so consumed with her own life, updated. She should spare her sister this anguish now. What could Shelly do from California anyway?
But the sound of her sister’s voice did her in.
“Hey,” Shelly said, “what’s going on? You don’t sound good.”
“It’s Daddy,” Cassie said and began to cry. She recounted it all—what had started as a promising walk, his increasing discomfort, how she’d run for her phone. She told her everything—the CPR, the monstrous defibrillator. Shelly let her tell it and only when Cassie had finished asked the thing she’d forgotten to say. The most important thing of all.
“What do we know now?”
“Nothing,” Cassie said, exhausted. She’d moved a few steps away from the door, all the while keeping an eye out for a doctor. “He was alive when they took him, but I don’t know if he is now,” she said bleakly.
“If he wasn’t, they would have told you.” Her sister at her sensible best, even with her own fear.
“You think?” Cassie had no idea if this was true, but she clung to it like a lifeline.
“Believe me, they always tell you the bad news.”
“Oh Shel.”
“It’ll be all right. I’m sure it will. Is Glenn there with you?”
“I called you first.”
“Call him. You need someone there. As soon as I get off the phone I’m going to book a flight.”
“You’re coming?” Cassie’s heart, battered and bruised, lifted ever so slightly.
“Of course I’m coming, you idiot. And don’t even think about picking me up at the airport. I’ll get an Uber.”
After she hung up with Shelly, she called Glenn, who was there in ten minutes. He folded her into his arms, and even Andrew looked relieved to see him.
“He’s tough,” Glenn said, taking a seat next to them. He’d come straight from someone’s hives and was in his work boots with bits of mud clinging to them. “When that bee stung him in the eye it hardly slowed him down.” She knew this was for Andrew’s benefit, but it bucked her up too.
“Yeah, but this was a heart attack,” Andrew said. “Cardiac arrest. That’s when the heart stops beating and—”
“We don’t know anything for sure yet,” Cassie said, setting a hand on his arm to prevent him from pulling up another article. It had been forty-five minutes, and no one had come out to tell them a thing. Every time the doors swung open she jumped but it was always someone in scrubs, walking briskly in or out. No one with news about her father.
“They got him here quick,” Glenn said. “These days there’s all kinds of stuff they can do.” From the adjoining chair, he held her hand. He was strong and calm and she wanted to believe him.
“How you holding up?” he said, moving to the couch when Andrew got up to stretch his legs.
She leaned into him. She’d been trying to hold it together, staying upbeat for Andrew’s sake. But Glenn’s solid warmth undid her. She dropped her face into her hands and cried.
