“It’s okay.” He stroked her back. “It’s all right to cry.”
“What was I thinking, I never should have let him go up there in the first place.”
“You couldn’t have known. At least you were with him. Think of that.” He drew her close as she sobbed into his chest.
“But I haven’t been there for him. I’ve left him alone. I don’t mean today but all this time. He never complained, never asked for help. I should have come more often. I might have noticed something.”
“Don’t beat yourself up.” He kissed her forehead gently. “You’re here now and that’s what counts.” He let her cry, holding her until she was too wrung out to shed another tear, until she had nothing left.
She sat up, quivery and exhausted. Andrew had come back and was watching her worriedly.
“Hey sweetie,” she said, wiping her eyes. “We still haven’t heard anything.”
“Andrew, you hungry?” Glenn said. “It’s after six. How about we go down to the cafeteria and see what they have?”
Andrew looked at Cassie, who nodded. “I guess I am a little hungry,” he allowed.
“Go on,” she urged with a grateful glance at Glenn. “I’ll be here.”
As soon as they left, the doctor appeared. A very young doctor with dark curls and tortoiseshell glasses who barely looked older than Andrew. Her heart sank at the sight of him. How could someone so young know anything?
But the doctor, who appeared slightly more mature up close with surprising flecks of gray in his hair, reported that her father was stable.
“You mean he’s alive?” Cassie stammered.
“Very much so.” He smiled briefly. “One of the arteries was completely blocked, but he was lucky. We performed angioplasty to open it up, then put in a stent. It doesn’t look like too much damage to the heart muscle, but we’ll know more in a day or two.”
“Can I see him?” Cassie asked, a bubble of happiness rising in her chest. She would see her father again. They would have time to spend together. They had both been handed a reprieve.
“He’s still in the CCU.” The doctor checked his watch. “They’ll probably keep him there overnight then admit him to the cardiac ward. Might be better to come back in the morning.”
He turned to go, but Cassie said, “He has memory issues. He might be confused.”
“I’ll note that in his chart.” The doctor hesitated. “Just so you know, this might make it worse. Hospitals can be disorienting, especially after a major trauma like this.”
But she refused to be dampened. She hurried to the cafeteria to find Andrew and Glenn. They would bring her dad home andhe would recover. She would handle whatever came next. And Shelly would be here too.
She caught up with them as Glenn was paying for sodas and sandwiches. The two of them were talking, and Andrew was actually smiling. She felt a rush of gratitude for Glenn’s easy way with him. When Glenn saw her he gave Andrew a nudge. “Your mom’s here.”
She hugged Andrew and then Glenn and the cashier beamed and wished them well. “He’s resting now,” Cassie said. “We can come back in the morning.”
They brought the sandwiches home, turkey for them and a veggie wrap for her. The house seemed empty without her dad, who filled it even in his diminished state. They would need to set up a bed for him in the family room; he wouldn’t be able to manage the stairs. And there would be rehab. But she couldn’t think of all that now. Tonight it was enough that he’d made it.
They took the sandwiches out to the porch. The birdhouse her dad had built years ago swung as a pair of wrens bustled in and out, stuffing it with bits of twig and brush. One of them always in flight, the males and females equal partners in the business of outfitting a home. It seemed impossible the day had gone on so long.
All at once Andrew set down his sandwich. “We need to get his cane. We forgot it in the woods.”
“Right, the cane.” Cassie jumped up. It seemed intolerable to leave it there.
“It’s not going anywhere,” Glenn said. “Why don’t you wait until the morning?”
One of the wrens was pouring its heart out from a nearby branch. For such small birds they were surprisingly loud. She sat back, utterly exhausted. The thought of returning to the woods in the near dark was too much. “I guess you’re right, he doesn’t need it this very minute.”
“I’ll get it first thing,” Andrew promised.
“I’ll let you.” She settled into the wicker chair and the three of them sat companionably on the porch, finishing their sandwiches and watching the wrens until the birds disappeared for the night.
Tomorrow was another day.
