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“You don’t know anything about my dad’s current care, and even if you did, it’s none of your business.”

I put my hands up in an effort to stop her as she turns and looks for the museum exit. “Okay, I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m explaining this clearly.” I scrub my hands down my face. When Paul had talked about it, it made a lot more sense. What did he say, again? I blurt, “People always marry for love nowadays, and over 50% of those marriages end in divorce!”

She halts and whirls to face me. “Oh! So you’re saying I should just marry you because I’ll never have a real happy marriage?”

“No!” This is officially worse than I imagined. “I’m making a mess of this. Please wait and I can–”

“No, I think you’ve been perfectly clear.” She stomps toward the exit, throws the door open, and leaves without so much as glancing back at me.

I let her go, confident that nothing I say at this point will rescue me from the hole I just dug myself into. Maybe she needs some time to think like I did? Or maybe I’m just horrible with words and insulted her so terribly that she’ll never speak to me again.

I groan and scuff the floor with the tip of my shoe. I only did this to save my campaign, but the thought of Odette never speaking to me again leaves an ache in my chest.

Chapter 8

Odette

A few days after the random offer of marriage from he who shall not be named, I’m home alone. My parents went out to get some last-minute Christmas gifts for me and insisted that I stay home. I rarely have the house to myself, so I’m soaking up the quiet by reading a book by the Christmas tree.

Despite my best efforts, though, I’m distracted and frustrated. Madden’s proposal was so out of line and insane. I couldn’t even tell my parents about it because I was too embarrassed. I wish I could just forget the entire thing.

As I turn the page in my book, skimming the lines without actually reading anything, my phone lights up. I glance at the screen and see my Mom calling. She probably wants to know what size of sweater to get me.

“Hey, Mom!” I answer cheerfully

“Sweetheart.” Her voice is shaky. “I need you to come to the hospital. It’s your dad.”

My heart stops inside my chest. “What happened? Is he okay?”

“He’s going to be okay, but he fell pretty hard. I’ll explain when you get here.”

“I’m on my way.”Grabbing the keys to the Buick, I rush to the hospital. Once I park and run to the emergency room, the nurse behind the counter directs me to my dad’s room. I burst in–chest heaving, dreading the worst–but the room is calm. My mom is seated on a small armchair by the hospital bed, stroking my dad’s hand as he sleeps comfortably under the thin blankets. They probably gave him something for the pain.

“I got here as fast as I could.” I pant.

She crosses the room and wraps me in a tight embrace. “They’ll take him back for x-rays soon.” She walks back to Dad’s side and gently caresses his face.

“Tell me what happened.” I grab a chair from the wall and drag it next to hers.

“We went to Target to do some Christmas shopping, but when I was helping your Dad back into the car, he slipped and fell pretty hard onto the asphalt. The doctor thinks he fractured his hip.” Her voice cracks on her last word.

Tears stream down my cheeks. “If I had been there to help, this never would have happened.”

“This isn’t anybody’s fault. You can’t be with us every second of every day, and we would never ask that of you. Don't beat yourself up.” Mom hands me a tissue from the bedside table.

Over the next several hours, they confirm that my Dad’s hip is broken and take him back for surgery. It takes several excruciating hours until, finally; the nurses roll him back into the room. He’s groggy, but it’s a relief to see him with his eyes open, awake and alert.

The doctor strides into the room then. He’s a familiar-looking man with a surgical cap, hazel eyes, and broad shoulders, followed by an older woman with a sleek, bobbed haircut, wearing a brown sweater along with dress pants and loafers. She reminds me of the super-suit designer from The Incredibles.

The doctor’s mouth pulls up in a smile on one side, and that’s when I recognize him as Dr. Windell’s coworker, Drew.

He shakes my Mom’s hand with a gentle smile. “Sorry it took us so long to make our way over here. I was with another patient.”

Dad speaks up in a hoarse, tired voice. “That’s okay. I had these beautiful ladies to keep me company.” At least his sense of humor is still intact.

“Very true.” He smiles. “I’m Dr. Reed, and I performed your husband’s surgery. We met on Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, yes! I knew you looked terribly familiar. It's nice to see you again, although I wish it were under better circumstances.” She musters up a smile, even though she must be exhausted.