When she had herself under control again, she looped her arms around him and gave him a friendly hug in return before stepping away.
“Thanks, I needed that hug,” she said on an embarrassed laugh. “Jeez, what am I like?”
“You’re like someone who had to rush their father to the hospital because he was badly hurt. It’s okay to be upset about it.”
Carole scrunched up the used tissue and tossed it to the table. “At the time, you just react because you need to help the person who’s injured. But now that dad’s home and I’m home too and the emergency is over, it’s just sinking in how… vulnerable and sore and helpless he looked. It broke my heart a little.”
“Of course it did. He’s your father and you love him. No one wants to see something like that happen to someone they love. It’s a shock, even if his injuries turned out not to be too bad, thank God. It was still a terrible fall and an upsetting thing to see.”
“Sorry for blubbing like this.”
“Stop apologising.”
“Sorry.” She rolled her eyes and laughed. “I’m sure I’ll feel better after some sleep. I’m knackered. You must be too.”
Tom took this as his cue to leave. “You’re okay now?”
“I’m okay.”
“If you think there’s more tears coming, I can be here for that.”
Carole laughed. “You’ve more than fulfilled your wedding wingman duties, Tom. At ease, soldier.”
With a salute that made her laugh again, Tom turned for the door. “Let me know how your dad is tomorrow once you’ve chatted with him. Give him my best.”
“I will.”
He stepped outside. Light was already flickering on the horizon, and he realised it wouldn’t be long before the sun came up. Twenty-four hours ago, he’d only just collapsed into bed after driving home from his work trip to Manchester. He hadn’t expected this day to end even later than yesterday had. The unexpected turn of events at the wedding had the effect of twisting time and making it feel like that work trip and been weeks ago, instead of only hours.
He smiled at Carole, searching her face to make sure she was okay before he left. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Truly, I’m okay. I’m mortified I burst into tears right in front of you, but otherwise fine.” Her tone was amused as she waved him off. “See you soon and thanks again, Tom.”
He walked up the garden path and through Carole’s front gate, then did the reverse trip through his own front gate and up his own path. Carole was still lingering at her door as he slid his key into the lock.
“Night, Tom.”
“Night, Carole.”
Her smile was a mixture of embarrassment and exhaustion as she lifted her hand in a wave. Tom waved in return as she slipped back inside her house and closed the door.
He really hoped she was okay and that she’d sleep once she climbed into bed, instead of tossing and turning while worrying about her father and replaying his awful fall inside her head. Carole, he’d realised tonight, was a woman who cared very deeply about those she loved, and it stood to reason that what had happened to her dad would leave her upset and still reeling, even all these hours later.
When they’d been walking the hospital grounds and killing time, Carole had said she wished she’d punched Steven Weaver for his stupid behaviour. Tom wished he’d punched him, too. It was no more than he deserved for acting like a complete tosser.
Tom wondered what Carole could possibly ever have seen in the man. She was about as far out of his league as it was possible to get.
Pausing on his front step, he sucked in a lungful of cool air. From somewhere further down Foxglove Street, he heard the first notes of the dawn chorus as a blackbird began singing, the sweet music drifting on the breeze. A yawn escaped him as he stepped inside his house, tired and dazed and yet thoroughly happy that he’d been able to help Carole tonight.
And happy that he’d been the wedding wingman she could rely on.
