She barely eats and isn’t herself. The stress is becoming a problem, but to be honest, I have no idea how to help.
Ria’s been talking to Danger a lot in their downtime before interviews, and their closeness is disturbing. It just doesn’t sit right in the pit of my stomach. Jealousy is not a good color on me, I know that, but I get such little time with Ria as it is, and knowing that she confides in him does my fucking head in.
My keepcool, calm, collectedmantra is slowly fading and no longer has the same effect on me as it used to. Whisper’s Fung Shui obviously doesn’t work the further I am from him, or maybe he’s just a hack, and it’s all bullshit like I thought.
What the hell am I thinking? Ofcourse it is!
Lunar seems to be having trouble with it all, like I am, because she snaps at Ria constantly, but Ria’s either too busy or too sick to take it in.
We’re on our way to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, and the bus is pretty quiet when suddenly, Ria’s cell phone rings, startling us all. She winces as if in apology and answers, “Hi, Mom,” she says in a monotone, but then her face changes. “Wait! What? Slow down,” she says, making me look up at her. “He what?” Her face turns pale as she stands from her seat and starts pacing. “Oh my God… how bad?”
My ears pick up. I know the signs—she’s becoming too agitated. Tears well in her eyes as she continues to pace the floor.“Is he gonna be okay?” There’s a small pause where she exhales and slumps her body in a sign of relief. “Thank God.”
I step up and wrap my arm around her waist to hold her up, just in case. She’s turning a slight shade of green instead of her usual white. I have to say, I’m pretty concerned about her.
“I can’t leave, Mom. I’m under contract. But if he’s gonna be okay, that’s all that matters. Mom, I have to go. Love you…” She ends the call and then bolts toward the bathroom.
I chase after her, getting there in time to see her throw up in the bowl. Leaning down, I pull her hair back as she heaves.
Rubbing her back, I try to comfort her as best I can. “Hey, you’re okay. Let it out. I’m right here.”
She coughs and splutters until there’s nothing left.
My chest is heaving, watching her, and how upset she is.I wish I could help her. “Babe, you feel like you can tell me what’s happening?” I ask, handing her some tissues to wipe her mouth.
She nods, sitting back as I hold onto her. “Patrick had a heart attack.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“He’s okay, they caught it, and he’s having bypass surgery and should make a full recovery.”
“Right, we’ll get on a plane at the next stop and go to see him.”
She takes a deep breath, shaking her head. “No, Mom said he’s going to be completely fine. Nothing to worry about. We only have two more weeks on the road anyway. I can wait.”
“Ria, you’re so stressed. This isn’t healthy for you. You’re fainting all the time. Now you’re puking as well. Babe, you need to be with your family.”
“Honestly, Nate, I’d rather be here. Like I said, this is a distraction from the chaos, and being around a sick dad with Mom in crisis mode won’t be my idea of less stress.”
I pull my brows together. “Okay, whatever you think is best. But I’m here for you every step of the way.”
“That means so much.” She closes and opens her eyes. “Hey, I’ve been thinking… when we get back, you should look into getting your gallery up and running,” she says, changing the subject abruptly.
I raise my eyebrow at the one-eighty change in topic—like she hasn’t just been told things at home are not great. To be honest, it’s weird. “Ah… yeah, I hadn’t really thought about it much.”
She stands, then flushes, facing me. “I really think it’s something you should do, Nate. Seize the day. If today has shown me anything, it’s that you have to act now because there may be no tomorrow.”
I sort of half-nod because I don’t know what else to do. “Okay, I’ll look into it. I’ll need to find a manager to run it while I’m away, I guess.”
“Exactly. Someone to sell your paintings and run the gallery while you’re not there. Someone to sell you to the world. You could even be one of those exclusive artists who sell the paintings, but no one knows who the actual artist is. You can be…artist anonymous.”
I chuckle, pulling her to me. “I like the sound of that. Having a gallery but being an anonymous artist. I think I’ll go with that.”
“I can help you find a curator slash manager, and they can help you run everything. It will be amazing, Nate!”
Smiling, I nod. “It really will. But right now, let’s get you to bed, yeah?”
“Okay… sorry you had to see me like that.”
