“Yes. I hope you like red.”
“Chianti is my favorite and it goes perfectly with lasagna.”
“Grampa, can we go outside?” Charlie comes into the room bouncing on his toes. “Preeze? You promised!”
Mr. Denali momentarily softens. “In a few minutes, buddy.”
“We can pray soccer!” He seems to be having trouble pronouncing Ls and it’s pretty cute.
“Rod, why don’t you and Jordan take Charlie outside? He needs to burn off some energy before dinner.” Mrs. Denali gives her husband a pointed look and he grunts.
“Fine. Come on, Charlie.”
“Yay!” Charlie races out the back door with his grandfather and I trailing behind him. They start kicking around a soccer ball and I stand off to the side watching, unwilling to interfere in their bonding time.
Mr. Denali is a different man when he’s with his grandson, which is nice but also frustrating. Hopefully, that means he’ll be equally attentive to the child Victoria is carrying.
They kick the ball around but Mr. Denali seems to be tiring out, and he comes to stand next to me in the shade, breathing a little harder than warranted for the game they’re playing.
“You know I don’t like you,” he says when Charlie chases after a runaway ball.
“I do,” I say, “but I’d like to find a way to change that.”
“If you hurt her?—”
“I’m never going to hurt her,” I interrupt fiercely. “She’s the only woman I’ve ever loved. There’s nothing I won’t do for her. Including coming here today even though I know you don’t want me here. Even though I know you don’t like me.”
He doesn’t respond and when I glance up at him he seems a little pale.
“Are you…okay?” I ask after a moment.
“I’m fine,” he says. Then he shakes his head and uses his right hand to massage his left arm. “Just a little pain…”
Worry gnaws at the edge of my psyche.
“You want to sit down?” I pull a chair from the patio closer to him.
“I’m okay, just need…” His voice trails and he clutches his chest. “Fuck…”
Before I can figure out what’s happening, he starts to collapse. Somehow, I manage to catch him and break his fall.
“Mr. Denali!” I yell his name, but his eyes are closed and he’s not moving.
It’s a heart attack.
There’s no doubt in my mind.
“Charlie! Go get Grandma! Now!” I hate to yell at him but my tone of voice must get through to him because he bolts into the house.
I lower my ear to Mr. Denali’s mouth, listening for a breath but there isn’t one. Fumbling with his wrist, I look for a pulse but I don’t find one.
Jesus. Fuck.
“What’s happened?” Mrs. Denali comes running outside with Victoria behind her.
“I think he’s having a heart attack,” I yell. “Call 911!”
Most of our inner circle got certified in CPR because Chloe insisted it was important, and suddenly the training kicks in. I start doing chest compressions, hoping I remember how to do them correctly.
