“How long does he have to stay?” I ask.
“He’ll stay tonight for observation, and then, provided there are no further complications or bleeding issues, he’ll be able to go home in 24 to 48 hours,” Dr. Stowe chimes in.
“And then, once he’s home?” Melanie quirks her eyebrows in concern. “What will that look like?”
“Well, we’d like him to enroll in cardiac rehab, which offers exercise, diet and lifestyle, and emotional support,” Dr. Comfort says. “He won’t be able to drive or lift anything more than ten pounds for a week or so. We’d love for him to start slow walks daily. And he’ll be on some new medications that we’ll go over with his discharge. Make sure you ask all the questions, so you know how to best support him.”
“Thank you so much, doctor,” I say, offering my hand.
“Of course, absolutely. I’ll let the nurses know to come get you when they’re moving him to his room.” The doctors turn to go, and Melanie lets out an audible exhale.
“He’s okay,” she whimpers.
I pull her close to me and kiss her temple. “He’s okay.”
* * *
Meland Idecide to stay one more night in the hotel. The plan is to come back tomorrow and hopefully take Frank home. After spending all day watching the rise and fall of his chest, we let him and Joan have some quiet alone time.
“Try to rest, Daddy,” Melanie says, kissing his forehead.
“Joan, are you sure you’re okay to drive back to Cape May tonight?” I ask, watching her closely.
“I’ll be just fine, Josh, thank you.” Joan pats my arm, like I’m not a foot taller than her.
“Okay, well call me if you need anything,” I say, meaning it.
I offer Frank a fist bump. “Frank, my man. You are a warrior.”
Frank huffs a tired laugh. “Hardly. I wouldn’t have gotten through it without you all.”
“We wouldn’t have been anywhere else.” Melanie squeezes his hand. “Josh and I will be back tomorrow to take you home.”
We say our goodbyes, and then Mel and I are on our way back to the hotel and suddenly the air between us is thicker.
“I am DoorDashing us dinner,” Melanie says, clicking her seatbelt into place.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to…” She pauses, then quietly continues, “to say thank you for everything.”
I glance at her and her eyes glisten. “God, Josh, I don’t know what I would have done without you here.”
“You would have figured it out,” I tell her, because I believe it. “You’re stronger than you think.”
“No, I’m not.” Melanie shakes her head.
“Youare.” I press. “Liam told me how you held him up all those years ago.”
“For other people maybe. I’m never strong for myself.” Her hands are in her lap, twisting together.
I don’t argue, I pull into the hotel lot and cut the engine. The silence between us shifts. Heavy, but not cold. Just full of everything left unspoken.
We sit for a minute, neither of us eager to get out of the truck.
Then we’re speaking at the same time.
“I’m sorry—” we both say.
