“I know… I just…”’
“I don’t regret it. Do you?”
She bites her lower lip, and I do start to regret not having the chance to finish what we started.
“No. I don’t regret it one bit.” She laughs and I enjoy how that makes me feel.
We take the elevator to the seventh floor and walk down the hallway to Dad’s room. Austin, Jane, and Mom are all inside the room when we get there. Dad’s sitting up in his bed, and he turns toward the door when we walk in.
“Son,” he whispers, and my lip trembles when I hear his familiar voice.
“Dad.” The word nearly chokes me, but I rush to his side and shove my hands behind my father’s back and pull him in for ahug. His large body feels frail against my fingers, so I loosen my grip.
“It’s so good to see you,” he says. His voice is low and rough, but it’s strong.
I clear my throat. “It’s even better to see you, Dad.”
“Yeah, well, it took a heart attack to get you here, Casey. Maybe don’t make me work so hard next time.” His lips stretch into a semblance of a smile despite his stern eyebrows.
“That would be a good idea,” says Mom. Then she looks over at Sage and rakes her gaze across her body. Sage uses her arm to cover her chest, trying to conceal her nipples.
“Do you not own any decent clothes?” she whispers harshly.
“I didn’t have time to change,” Sage tries to explain, but my mother isn’t listening.
“Sage was at home when we received the call. I rushed us both out of there. It’s not her fault.”
“You were at her house?” my mother asks, the clothing debacle completely forgotten.
“Yeah.”
“Why were you there?”
I raise my eyebrows and tilt my head toward my father. “Maybe we can talk about that later, mmm?” Turning back toward my dad, I ask, “How are you feeling?”
He looks at me and then at Sage and his weak smile grows stronger. “A lot better now.”
8
Sage
Sitting on my living room floor crossed-legged on a purple mat, I inhale deeply, nearly tasting the eucalyptus scent from my diffuser. I count to eight and exhale slowly through my mouth for another eight beats.
I’ve been trying to meditate for what feels like an hour, but it’s impossible to clear my mind. Every time I close my eyes, I see Casey’s fingers gently fixing his father’s sheet, then reaching for my hand as we leave the hospital room. My mind wanders to how he stared at me with those blue eyes in the elevator and kissed me slowly.
A shiver runs down my spine and I shake it off. But it’s no use, my body hums whenever he’s near, and my mind replays memories of him when he’s not.
A knock on the door startles me and I exhale once more. Rising, I raise my arms above my head and lift my chin to the ceiling, one final stretch before I end my practice.
Casey’s eyes are bright when I open the door, his smile broader than I’ve ever seen it.
“Good morning,” he says with his hands in his jean pockets.
“Morning.”
“Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, I just need to grab my sweater.” I reach over to the coat rack and grab a pullover I bought at one of the weekend markets.
