“What kind of incident?” I ask, my blood back, my veins pulsing in my neck.
“Are you in New York? You need to come to Mount Sinai.” There’s an edge in his voice that I can’t place. There’s something he’s not telling me.
“What happened. Is he conscious?” I pat down my jeans, trying to locate my keys. I find them and head toward the car.
“We won’t know anything until he’s seen by doctors.”
“Is he conscious?” I bellow into the phone.
“Yes, I think we can say he’s conscious. But you need to come as quickly as possible.”
“I’m in Colorado,” I say. “I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
He’s not telling me something. Is he dead already? My mind goes blank at the thought and I head out of Wilde’s Farm.
Back to Manhattan.
Back to being an Alden.
THIRTY
Jack
I head to the hospital straight from the helipad. It’s already nine in the evening when I step out of the elevators into the hospital corridor. The smell of disinfectant hangs in the air, and all I can hear is the sound of machines beeping and clattering furniture.
I try to ready myself for what I’m going to find. Greg’s not been very forthcoming about my father’s condition and I don’t know what to expect. Of course, my mother’s not answering my calls. I don’t know if I should take that as a good sign or a bad sign.
I told Iris to stay in Colorado when she offered to come with me. I told her that Wilde’s Farm needed her and that I’d keep in touch and let her know how everything was.
My overriding reason for telling her to stay in Star Falls wasn’t because she was needed on the farm, although that was technically true. I just knew it would be easier dealing with my mother on my own. Especially if my father was sick. I didn’t want to make the situation more tense by bringing Iris with me.
And I didn’t want Iris feeling uncomfortable. I didn’t want her abandoning her family. Mine wouldn’t be as welcoming to her as the Wildes have been to me.
She heard the whole truth in my voice. I know she did.
The half lie feels like a chink of distance between us that threatens to bottom out into the Grand Canyon. But I can’t think about that now. I just need to deal with my mother and see my father.
“Mother?” I call out. Where is she?
“Jack,” my mother says, her voice a little shakier than I’m used to hearing it. “Is that you?”
Greg appears in the corridor. “In here.”
“Jack,” my mother says as I enter the room. I glance around, expecting to see a bed, a patient—my father. Instead, there are four chairs around a low coffee table. A vase containing pink faux flowers sits in the middle on it.
“He’s next door,” my mother says, her voice wobbling. “On a ventilator.”
“A ventilator?” That didn’t sound good. “Is he going to be okay?”
My mother just stares into her lap, stifling a sob. My heart steps up, pounding against my rib cage, but I try to keep calm.
“What happened?” I ask. I’ve had no further information than when Greg first called me. “Is he okay?”
“Your father had a stroke,” my mother says, her eyes glassy.
The room tilts and my vision blurs. I fist my hands, trying to resist the emotions that threaten to overwhelm me. “How is he?” I glance between Greg and my mother. Why isn’t anyone saying anything? Were they keeping him alive until I got here?
My mother nods at Greg, giving him permission to speak. Usually my mother likes to control things. Things must be bad if she’s letting Greg speak for her.
