Crista groaned as if this was just more bad news on her heart. “I talked to him for a while last night. Really nice kid with a disarming sense of humor for a dentist-to-be. I can’t believe he…”
“He’ll be okay,” Vivien assured them, looking from one to the other. “It was serious but could have been much worse. Eli knows,” she added. “I told him last night. I’ll be back in a bit.”
She blew a kiss and headed out the front door. When Maggie heard the door close, she exhaled and leaned forward, knowing their private time together was going to come to a close.
“This family will hold you,” she told Crista. “No matter what.”
Crista nodded, tears threatening as if Connor’s bad news had somehow made hers worse.
“And about the house, Mama? You can see why I started thinking about…selling. If we get…” She swallowed noisily. “If I’m right and we aren’t together…” A sob squeezed. “I’ll need money,” she managed to finish.
Maggie leaned over her, hands on Crista’s shoulders. “Lots of ‘ifs’ in that shaky plan, Crista.Ifyou are wrong…”
Crista exhaled. “Then I wouldn’t sell this dream house. But I’m not, Mama. A woman knows things.”
She couldn’t argue that. But Maggie also couldn’t believe Anthony would cheat. She simply couldn’t and therehadto be a way to get to the truth.
She’d just have to find it.
Vivien reread Peter’s last text after she pulled into the parking lot of the HCA Fort Walton-Destin Hospital.
Connor’s awake. In some pain. Going to be fine.
Three short sentences, clinical in their reassurance, yet still taut with something else—relief, possibly, or exhaustion. Maybe just the lingering aftershock of a phone call no parent ever wanted to get.
She turned off the engine and sat for a few seconds, hands resting on the steering wheel, looking at the three-story hospital building. The creamy stucco was bathed in morning sunlight and surrounded by cheery palm trees, with a few people moving in and out under a large portico.
She watched a nurse in scrubs, a patient pushed in a wheelchair, a random visitor with a phone pressed to his ear looking like he’d rather be anywhere else on Earth than at this small-town hospital.
Vivien exhaled slowly.
When she’d tapped on Eli’s door last night and told him what had happened, her brother had instantly dropped his head and moved his lips in prayer. And this morning, he looked a little tired and she’d noticed an open Bible on his bed. Hopefully,faithful Eli had a direct line to The Big Guy and Connor was protected and would heal fast.
She wrapped her hand around the two paper cups of coffee she’d just picked up. One black with a “drive-by” of real sugar, as Peter called his coffee preference. Hers had cream and sweetener, though she suspected she wouldn’t touch it.
Her stomach was burning, but it would be better when she could see Connor, the kind and serious twenty-eight-year-old young man she’d met yesterday.
He was Peter’s son, so she loved him already.
Slow down, Viv. Peter still thinks you want space and you’re blowing in with coffee and love.
Holding the cups, she jostled her bag higher on her shoulder and headed toward the main entrance.
Inside, the hospital smelled slightly metallic, with sleek tile floors and a front desk manned by one rather sleepy-looking receptionist. She bypassed the desk for the elevators to the third floor, following the directions Peter had texted.
He hadn’t called her, which was a bit of a disappointment. But why would he? She wasn’t his girlfriend, just a concerned family friend.
Obviously, this new turn of events had nothing to do with them as a couple. But how long would their talk have to wait? She didn’t know, but she’d find out soon. Since she was ready to tell him she didn’t want all that space after all, waiting would be interminable. But the timing had to be right and respectful, even if it delayed her confession by a few days.
Based on the way he’d looked at her last night—a little guarded and uncertain—she had to wonder how he’d respond. What ifhehad changedhismind in the few months they’d been apart?
She shook her head as the elevator doors slid open.
None of that mattered now.
What mattered was Connor. And Peter. And the fact that she could be here to show him he wasn’t alone.
She tried not to rush down the hall, silently observing the hospital surroundings. An IV pole rolled by, directed by an orderly who looked at his phone as he walked. Nurses at the station murmured to each other. A television played softly behind a half-closed door. Somewhere, a call bell chimed.
