“Do you not want me there? Will I be in the way?” he asked her matter-of-factly.
“No, it’s not that, I just don’t want to bother you any more than I already have—”
“It’s not a bother.” He reached around her and opened the passenger-side door. “Go on. Your mom will be anxious to see you. I’ll be there in a minute. But if I don’t see you in the waiting area, I’ll just wait. Don’t worry about me.”
She caught his eye. “Thank you so much,” she told him before she got out of the car.
She immediately saw her mother standing near the check-in station. Her usually immaculate hair looked disheveled and her face appeared wan from worry. She immediately launched herself toward Eleanor when she saw her, her arms outstretched.
“I know you’ll think it’s all my fault. All that rich food I give him,” her mother fretted as they hugged tightly.
“It doesn’t matter what I think, Mom. It’s what the tests and the doctors say that counts. If diet is the culprit, then you guys will just have to change it and exercise more. People have to do it every day; it’s not the end of the world,” Eleanor assured through a tight throat. She pushed her mother back and peered at her face closely. “What are the doctors saying? What’s happening?”
“He’s stable.”
“Thank God.”
“I saw him just a minute ago after they finished the EKG. He was groggy, so he might be asleep by now. They’re giving him oxygen therapy and nitroglycerin now. He’ll have to start taking some of that clot-busting medicine.”
“So it was definitely a heart attack?”
Her mom nodded. Eleanor’s own heart swelled uncomfortably at the affirmation. Her mom grasped he
r arms. “But a minor one, honey. The doctor called it a warning sign.”
“Some warning sign. Can I see him?”
“I think so. They were going to move him to a regular room soon. Come with me,” she said, taking Eleanor’s hand and leading her through a pair of swinging doors.
—
Forty-five minutes later, she and her mother walked back out into the ER waiting room. It’d been sobering, but also a huge relief to see her father, and even speak with him a little. Yes, he’d looked unusually small in the hospital bed for a man she’d always considered to be as big and strong as a giant, and his complexion had been distressingly gray. But he’d also smiled upon seeing her and said, “Don’t worry, bug. It’s not that bad. It felt like a really bad case of indigestion.”
“Yeah, your heart is telling you loud and clear it doesn’t like your diet,” Eleanor had teased him back before she’d kissed his temple. His laugh had been weak and gruff, but Eleanor had never been so glad to hear it.
A man had arrived with a gurney to take her father to his hospital room. Eleanor had a chance to speak briefly to the attending physician, and then more extensively with their family doctor, Dr. Chevitz, who had been kind enough to come down to the ER after her mother’s phone call. Chevitz helped them by decoding some of the lab results and explaining her dad’s condition and prognosis in concrete terms. His presence went a long way to soothing her mother. By the time the two of them walked out of the ER, her mother had gone to the bathroom, combed her hair, put on some lipstick and seemingly located most of her typical imperious composure.
Eleanor saw Trey immediately when they entered the waiting room. He sat on a couch, long legs bent in front of him, a magazine in his lap. He looked a little surreal sitting there in his expensive suit, her longtime unobtainable fantasy smack dab in the middle of the harsh reality of a family emergency. Without saying anything to her mother, Eleanor walked over to him. She felt awkward about him being there, but she also was profoundly grateful and touched by his presence.
He glanced up, saw her and stood.
“How is he?” he asked her.
“He’s going to be okay. They’re only going to keep him overnight. They’re moving him to a hospital room now. They told us to wait a little bit before going up, while they get him admitted and situated. There was no major damage done to the heart. He’s going to have to get more exercise, take medication, make some major changes to his diet, but he should be good as new before long.”
“I suppose the last was aimed at me.”
Eleanor blinked at the sound of her mother speaking behind her. She hadn’t realized she’d followed her.
“I wasn’t aiming anything at you,” Eleanor said wearily, turning. “I was just repeating what the doctors told us and what you already knew. Trey, this is my mother, Catherine Briggs. Mom, meet Trey Riordan.”
Trey tossed down the magazine and extended his hand toward her mother. Instead of shaking it, her mom accepted his hand and just held it. Eleanor mentally rolled her eyes at the typical Catherine the Great regal gesture.
“I’m sorry to have to meet you under these circumstances,” Trey said. “But I’m glad to hear your husband is going to be okay.”
Catherine smiled, her gaze running down the considerable length of Trey’s person in a sharp assessment.
“Trey was nice enough to drive me here,” Eleanor said, sensing the questions brewing behind her mother’s polite but inquiring expression. There hadn’t been any opportunity to tell her mom about Trey. “We were out together when you texted me earlier.”