“No, thanks. I’m good.”
“Very well. Would you be able to keep Joan company? I won’t be gone long?” I nod, and Stu heads off.
Joan, who’s sitting beside me with her head in her hands, lets out through a sob, “Oh Dylan, it was so bad. I saw the cars on the road. It was so bad.”
I can feel my stomach turn. “Do you know what happened?”
She shrugs, lifting her head to look at me. “The horror in his eyes, Dylan. Stu saw the whole thing. When I looked into his eyes, it’s like all his life had been removed from them—Dylan, he saw the whole thing.”
I hadn’t thought about it, but she’s right. Stu was there and saw it all. Velyn’s like a daughter to him; he must be dying inside. I don’t say anything; there’s really nothing to say. I just wrap my arms around Joan’s shoulder, and she leans in. I haven’t prayed since I was little, but right here and now, I say a silent prayer in hopes that there’s someone up there listening.
It seems that hours have passed and still nothing. I’m going crazy waiting to hear anything about either of them. I stand from my chair about to head to the reception when Stu walks in with two men. The one undeniably his brother, the other—shit, is that Velyn’s dad?
I watch from the other side as he walks in, but just barely, Stu’s brother has had to steady him a couple of times.
Joan walks over and in a lowered voice, says, “That’s her dad. I’m not sure what you all heard about him.”
Still focused on the three men, I keep my eyes forward and reply, “She hasn't told me much other than he’s a broken man. Those are the words she uses for him all the time.” I let out a breath looking down at Joan. “He just looks like a drunk to me.”
“We need to be civil here, Dylan. We’re all scared, and adding to that won’t help.”
I nod. “I won’t say a word. Hell, at least he’s here. I can’t say the same about my father.”
“Mi hijo!”
As soon as I hear the familiar voice, I move to find her. “Connie, we’re over here.”
She spots me from over on the other side of the room and makes her way to me. “How is my boy? How is Velyn?” Her sobs break her words, and I’m sure she can’t see through the tears welled up in her eyes. “Oh, mi amor, my little boy.”
I take her into my arms, pulling her in tight. “He’s going to be okay. He has to be.”
She pulls from my arms, placing her hands on either side of my face. “He be okay. He be okay. Ay, mi amor.”
Joan lays a hand on Connie’s shoulder, and just as quickly, Connie takes Joan into her arms. I have to step away for a moment while the two women console one another. I don’t think I can be the strong
shoulder they need. I’m just as bad off, if not worse. I’m dying inside here. Why can’t I fix this?
I smell him before he says anything. So, when I turn to look at him, I think I catch him off guard.
“H-hi, I’m Velyn’s father. You must be Dylan? She’s mentioned you.”
He’s fidgety. I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol, the nerves or a combination of both, but I’m sure my less than welcoming demeanor at this moment isn’t helping.
Remember what Joan said—play nice.
“Yes, I’m Dylan.” I try, I really do, but biting my tongue has never been an easy thing for me; sorry, Connie, but I can’t. “You realize you smell like cheap wine?”
Ashamed, he looks down at his hands. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not the one that needs your apologies,” I let out.
When I look at Velyn’s father, I imagine at one time before he started drinking, he would’ve been a bigger man. With his actual height, he’d probably have matched my size.
“I’ve wronged my daughter in so many ways. But most of all, I hate that it’s taken this to happen for me to see that. I do want to make this right,” he explains.
I have no patience right now, so his heartfelt words come through to me more like empty promises. “Talk is cheap, Mr. Adler.”
He moves in front of me. Now, eye to eye, I have no choice but to listen and not just hear.
“You’re right, it is. I don’t expect you to believe me or even care. But I do want to make this up to Velyn. Fix what I’ve broken over the past two years.”
“That’s where you’re wrong; I do care. I love your daughter; that’s why I’m skeptical. I don’t want to see her hurt even more when you fail.”
He nods almost conceding. “And I probably will. The difference is, this time, I’ll get back up and try again. That much I can promise. I will keep trying to make it right until it is.”
I hold my gaze with his, and I see it. I see what Velyn’s defended this whole time—the man he used to be.
Extending my hand, he looks down at it, slowly raising his to take it. “Mr. Adler, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Is the family of Evelyn Adler here?” A woman dressed in hospital scrubs appears in the doorway.
“Yes, I’m her father.” The woman approaches both of us looking up to me when she stops in front of Mr. Adler. “It’s fine he’s family,” he informs.
She nods then starts. “I’m Dr. Adams. I was the surgeon that operated on your daughter.
