Page 70 of Day Break

He nodded. “I’d hoped it would be after we’d heard something.”

Just then, the doors opened, and a doctor stepped out. Since we were the only ones in the waiting room, he moved over to us.

“Evening. You’re the Robinson family?” he asked.

“Yes.” Lane jumped up. “How is he?”

“Resting. Your grandfather was seriously low on potassium. We’re running a drip now. I don’t like his blood pressure and want to keep him for a few days, if possible.”

“Can we see him?” I asked.

Lane took my hand again, and we followed the doctor back through the doors into a private room.

George was lying in a hospital bed with tubes in his arms and an oxygen mask covering his face. He looked so small. So frail. I finally lost control of my tears and had to wipe my face with my sleeve as Lane spoke to him.

I didn’t know why I was crying. Was it fear about losing my stability there or had George come to mean more to me than almost anyone else in my entire life?

When the tears became too much, I stepped out of the room, searching desperately for a bathroom.

“Right here, honey,” I heard a nurse say. She took my arm and led me to the bathroom.

I locked myself inside, sat on the floor with my back to the door, and cried until I finally got myself under control.

Had it really been just two months since I’d started working for George? How had the man wiggled his way into my heart so quickly? I never let anyone in. Never. Just the thought of losing him brought on a panic attack.

George and Byron meant more to me than anything else ever had. It wasn’t because my entire livelihood rested on his kindness. I didn’t care if I went back to living on the beach or the streets.

It wasn’t as if I’d ever had material things before. Nothing had ever been mine until that day Lane had taken me shopping.

Growing up, before my marriage, everything I had belonged to everyone. My clothes, my bed, my toys—it had all been communal. Much like it was in prison. After marriage, everything had belonged to my husband. He had never let me forget that fact.

When a soft knock sounded on the door, I jumped up, washed my face, and pulled myself together. Then I stepped out and realized it was Lane waiting for me outside.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes running over my face.

I nodded and swallowed the pain and worry before I asked, “How is he?”

“He’s asking for you,” Lane answered. Then he pulled me into his arms, and I almost lost it again right there.

He pulled back, took my hand, and led me back to the private room.

George was now sitting up, sipping some water.

“There you are, girl,” he said with a smile.

I dropped Lane’s hand and rushed to George’s side and gently hugged him.

“You scared me,” I said softly as more tears rolled down my cheeks.

“There, there.” George patted my hair as he handed Lane the water cup so he could wrap both arms around me. “I’m okay. Feeling much better since they poked me and are shoving some potassium in me. I guess you’ll have to add bananas to the shopping list,” he joked.

I sat on the side of the bed and ran my eyes over him. His coloring was getting better. Not back to normal, but better.

When he noticed the tears on my cheeks, he lifted a shaky hand and brushed them away.

“What’s all this? For me?”

“No, never,” I joked.