An ambulance crew came up behind her, the wheels on the bed rattling and the man in the bed moaning. She couldn’t help but look at him as he passed. His face and bare chest looked as though it had been eaten away. She recoiled, covering her mouth at the horror. The fact that the man was still alive tugged at her heart, and almost without thinking, she whispered, “Please, God, heal him.”
The man’s eyes popped open, and for a brief moment of suspended time, they locked gazes. His celestial blue eyes cleared, and he mouthed the word “you” as if he knew her.
Bella searched her memory, but the only pair of eyes that captivating had belonged to the man at the courthouse. The paramedics burst forward towards an open elevator, and the connection was lost.
Bella’s heart jerked painfully at the separation. Her eyes followed his black-clad leg and his shiny shoes, and she realized itwasthe man from the courthouse. The one who had called her lovely. Something inside of her yearned to be there for him, to hold his hand and ease his pain as he had lightened her day. Her rather dismal day.
Her phone dinged a text—Leo telling her where to go—and she pushed the button for the 5th floor several times before clasping her hands together in front of her chest. “Please let him be okay. Please,” she prayed for her father—and then, because her heart wouldn’t let her forget him, she prayed for the stranger too.
* * *
“Your father has HCM, or hypertrophic cardiomyopathy.”
Bella reached for Leo’s hand as the doctor laid out the situation with the calm that came from years of telling people horrible news. She stared at his mouth as it moved, wondering how many times he had to stand in front of families like this each day. Probably several, considering he was a cardiologist.
“… six hours of surgery …”
She knew how long the surgery had taken, because she’d spent every minute of it inside an emotional blender.
“… patients with HCM have a higher chance of developing other heart conditions, including hyperlipidemia, coronary artery disease, and hypertension …”
Bella took each word like a punch to the chest. Her father—the strongest man she knew, the man who had raised her on his own and given her the courage and determination to follow through with her dream of becoming a lawyer—shouldn’t be described by terms that indicated weakness.
“He will be in a rehab center for a few weeks. Even when he’s feeling better, his physical activity will need to be regulated. No sports. Light aerobic. Nothing that could stress his heart. There’s also the chance of pneumonia.” The doctor clicked off his tablet. “You’ll need to be tested too, because the heart issue is hereditary.”
Bella nodded numbly. “I’ll get right on that.”
The doctor strode from the room, his movements a study in confidence Bella could only wish she felt at the moment.
Leo squeezed her hand. “Chin up, now. He’s alive, and that’s what’s important.” He was an ox of a man with hair that was never longer than a military-approved length. His murky green eyes were laced with exhaustion, and his shirt was untucked and wrinkled in a manner that spoke volumes of the stress he’d endured.
“I know.” The backs of her eyes prickled with tears that could only be held at bay for as long as it took for the doctor to take her father’s heart out, carve away tissue, and put it back in his chest. “I was just so scared.” She heaved a couple breaths, trying to get her emotions under control. The clock read just after seven at night. She hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, and her stomach realized it. “I’m going in to visit him for a minute, and then I’m going to get something to eat so that I can stay here tonight.”
Leo nodded. “I’ll come back in the morning and relieve you for a bit. Trudy won’t mind having me out of her hair for once.”
Bella nodded. Trudy was Leo’s wife. He’d semi-retired the month before, and they were going through a bit of an adjustment. He often visited Dad around lunch just to get out of the house—said his wife wasn’t used to having him underfoot all the time. “Thank you, Leo. You’re a good friend.” She leaned over and kissed his whiskery cheek. He smiled in return before heading out the door.
The hallway was well lit and the nurses busy but quick with smiles. Dad’s room was the third door down and the night nurse was inside, checking his charts on the computer. She greeted Bella and said, “We’ll make that chair into a bed for you, if you’d like.”
“That would be wonderful.” Her very bones were weary.
“I’ll see to it in just a bit. He may be in and out for a while. That’s normal.” The nurse typed a few things and then shut the door behind her as she left.
Bella approached the bed, not wanting to wake up her father but needing to see his chest rise and fall with her own eyes. Her Superman looked old. Gray whiskers graced his lined cheeks, and his pale skin was sallow in the dim light. He stirred and took a deep breath before opening his eyes. “Bella,” he rasped.
She reached for the cup on the side table and offered him a drink. The water went down with a large gulp and he sighed with relief, licking his dry lips. She’d stop by the gift shop and find some ChapStick for him before coming back up. “Hey, Dad.”
He reached for her hand. “I’m in trouble, baby girl.”
“No, Dad,” she hurried to reassure him. “The doctor says your heart is going to be fine.”
“No.” He chuckled weakly. “I’m in trouble at work.”
She leaned closer. “Dad, work is hardly your main concern right now. Let’s just worry about getting you better.”
“Listen to me. I’m under contract to finish The Cove on time, or I’ll lose everything.” Dad sank deeper into his pillows.
“What do you mean,everything?”
