“She’s under observation right now, but she will likely be discharged in the next couple of hours. Is there someone close by who can pick her up?” the nurse asks.
Tears well in my eyes, and I pinch the bridge of my nose. My mind is racing a million miles per minute. I wish I could teleport to California. I don’t have contact information for any of my mom’s friends. Brooks and Tyler are nearby. I’ll try Brooks first. That way I can avoid adding awkwardness to this clusterfuck.
Only…shit. He’s at a film festival in San Francisco this weekend.
Heels click-clack on the bathroom floor, and the stall door beside me swings shut, but I ignore the intrusion. “Yeah. I’ll call them.” I hang up without even saying thank you or goodbye.
For weeks after we broke up, Tyler called and left message after message, begging me to take him back. After several failed attempts to win me back, the rude texts began. Eventually he stopped contacting me altogether, so I hold mybreath, worried that when he sees my number on his screen, he’ll hit decline or block me.
But after the second ring, the phone connects, and I exhale.
“Joey?” He sounds dumbfounded, and rightfully so.
“Oh, thank god you answered. Tyler, it’s my mom,” I whisper, my voice cracking.
“What happened?”
“She’s at the hospital. She fell and needed stitches. I’m in New York, and I don’t know what to do. I didn’t know who to call.” The tears are flowing now, and my body is shaking. “Do you—do you think you can go get her?”
My chest is tight in anticipation of his reply, but he doesn’t leave me waiting long. “Of course. Which hospital?”
The vise threatening to cut off my airway loosens immediately. “Santa Monica Medical Center.”
“Okay, I’m on my way, Beck,” he assures me. “It’s okay.”
“Thank you. I’ll book a flight. Hopefully I can get out of here tonight.”
After a hasty goodbye and a promise from Tyler that he’ll contact me as soon as he gets eyes on my mom, I exit the stall. I startle when I catch sight of Stephanie at the sinks, and my face heats when I catch my own reflection in the mirror behind her. My hair is falling out of its knot, and my eyes are smudged with mascara.
She picks up a white cloth and dampens it, then guides me to a captain’s chair in the lounge area of the restroom.
“Want to tell me what’s going on?” she asks, handing me the cloth. The crow’s feet next to her green eyes deepen when she offers a warm smile.
Trying my best to conceal my emotions, I give her a very basic rundown.
“Oh, honey.” She crouches before me and rubs my arm. “Is she all right? Is she in LA?”
I nod.
“How can I help?”
Cam was right about his mom. She has a caring soul. I’ve only just met her, yet she’s ready to jump in and help in any way she can. I’m not used to that kind of treatment.
“Umm, I don’t know,” I hedge, feeling uncomfortable with such concern from a virtual stranger. “I’m going to try to get on the red-eye.” I hold up my phone to check the time.
“Our driver will take you to your apartment, then to the airport,” she says, her eyes warm and her expression soft. “It’ll be faster that way.”
My lips quiver and my chest tightens. Accepting her help may make me all squirrelly inside, but she’s right—the town car will be much faster.
“Thank you,” I choke back tears.
I don’t have time to find Cam. God, I hope he understands. I need to grab my clutch and go. I’ll book a flight in the car. I stand and head for the door, ready to ask Stephanie to relay the message to him, when a husky voice in the hall mentions his name. I freeze in the doorway, and Stephanie does too.
Mr. Connelly and Dr. Draper stand a few feet away, both wearing scowls.
“I wish that son of yours would get his head on straight,” Dr. Draper asserts. “What’s he doing bringing that girl to my fundraiser anyway, after what he did to Hayden?”
Oh, does he not know it was his daughter who rocked the boat?
