“Are you back in town?”
“Yes, I got in last night.”
“We need to talk, but I can’t leave the house. Can you come over?”
The cheerfulness dropped like an anvil from Beau’s voice. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, no, I don’t know.” He leaned his head down on the desk, unsure how to handle any of this.
“I’m out the door.”
“Can you call Lacey and see if she can come too? I may need her help.”
“We’ll be right there.” Beau hung up without further direction.
No wonder Beau had ended the call with an urgency. Rex had never asked for help and this was a first. He wished his brother already knew about Monica—it would have made the call less awkward.
He left the desk and plodded to the kitchen, found Monica’s phone still lying on the kitchen floor. Searching the contacts, he found Ron Hughes’s number and called him from his phone. His heart beat erratically as the line rang.
“Hello?” Monica’s dad sounded years older than his early sixties.
“Hi, this is Rex Fontenot.” He swallowed the emotions in his throat, but they wedged in his chest.
“I’m glad you called. I’ve been trying to reach Monica and check on her, but she won’t answer.”
“She’s asleep now but otherwise okay considering. I’m very sorry about Carrie, sir.”
“Thank you. We are all in shock and disbelief right now.”
“How is the baby?” Rex was torn on whether he should ask, but that’s the first thing Monica would want to know. If it was good news, she would be happy, but if not, he wanted that time to prepare how to tell her.
“Little Emily is miraculously doing great. She’ll be in the hospital for several weeks, but they expect her to be released by the beginning of November. We’ve only been able to see her through a window, but she looks just like her momma.” Bittersweet tones reverberated through the phone as the men stood stoic, being the strength.
“That’s wonderful news, sir. I won’t keep you long, but I just wanted to give my condolences and let you know we will be flying in tomorrow evening.”
“Thank you for calling, and thank you for taking care of Monica. She’s my only baby left.” Ron ended the call as his cries mounted and the grief threatened to take over. They quickly disconnected the call, allowing Ron his moment of private sorrow.
Knowing it would be a long night, Rex put on a pot of coffee. By the time he poured himself a cup, Beau and Lacey were knocking at the door, full of worry and questions. He had no idea where to begin, so he led them to the table and offered them a drink.
All the insecurities from Monica’s time in the hospital flooded his memory, and he found himself fighting back a tear when he thought of her today, wracked with mourning, inconsolable in his arms. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shed a tear. Not even when his dad had passed.
“Monica’s sister was killed in an accident this morning.”
“Oh, dear goodness. The baby?” Lacey gasped, ran her hand over her pregnant stomach.
“They were able to perform an emergency c-section and save the baby.”
Lacey exhaled as she let her tears flow. Rex envied her freedom to express her emotions.
Beau stared at his brother, putting the pieces together. “In Charleston, you also came because Monica was hurt, not strictly because of Lacey, didn’t you?”
Rex nodded.
“You love her, don’t you?”
Again, Rex nodded.
Beau held his brother’s shoulder in a show of his support. “How long have you been together?”
