“I wish you felt the same way about me.”
My lips went slack and I turned and stared at him. He held my gaze, his unwavering. Patient.
“Two weeks ago I snuck out of the house and almost robbed a store.” As the confession fell from my lips, my stomach went with it. I doubled over and vomited on his rug, splashing some bits on the legs of his desk.
Dad didn’t move.
I wiped my mouth, gasping for air, wondering if he hated me now.
“Why do you want to be a cop?”
Because he asked so calmly the story spilled out faster than the puke had. I told him how it felt to be on the wrong side of who I was, how good it felt to stand up to Lou, to do what was right. “I want to do that for a living. I want to be on the right side of who I am, Dad!”
He nodded, rising to open a window, contemplating what I’d said. “I don’t know if I was that self-aware when I was your age.” Pushing the curtains wider to let a breeze in, he turned and crossed his arms. “Do you want to be a cop just to feel better about what you almost did?”
“I know in here I want to be one.” I punched my chest.
“We’ll see how you feel when you’re eighteen.”
“It won’t change.”
“Hmm. Get a mop, a bucket, and you know the rest. Your punishment is cleaning up that mess because wow.” He waved a hand in front of his face, brown eyes dancing with amusement.
I grinned, heartbeat still racing as I ran to get them.
I stopped at his voice, no more laughter in it. “I’m proud of you.”
Looking over my shoulder I asked a confused, “Dad?”
“You trusted me today. I know that was hard.”
Pointing to my mess I asked, “Ya think?”
He laughed and I ran for the mop.
“When I came back to you at seventeen, a year ahead of schedule, you talked Uncle Justin into helping. He was against it.”
Dad nods, seeing the memory, too. “But I wasn’t. Didn’t matter if he saw what I saw in you. I never underestimated you, son. And you never did, either. Be your own man. They’ll see what you show them.”
“She’s awake!”
CHAPTER 35
WYATT
Everyone crams into her room, Grandpa kneeling again. “Mom? Can you hear me?”
Zoe pushes through to lodge herself between Nathan and I, clutching our hands. Didn’t know she was this strong.
Whispers fly around with confirmations that Grams hasn’t spoken yet, and Aunt Sarah runs for the doctor. With so many of us, and such a small staff, the hospital wasn’t hovering. They knew we’d come for them when they were needed.
Grams’s white eyelashes are barely fluttering, but yes, she’s conscious.
Nobody is breathing but her.
We are waiting for some sign that she’s still our Grams. Did she suffer brain damage from the coma? We don’t know, until she whispers, “Michael…”
“I’m here, Mom!” He tenderly lifts her hand. “I’m here.”
Her drawl is heavy, voice a whisper, “I saw your father!”
Grandpa blinks hard, eyes filling up. “You did?”
Her smile spreads as she stares at her son like nobody is in the room but him. Her daughter, Marie, passed last year. He is her only child now. From him sprung every connection in this room. But it all began with her and my great-grandfather, Jerald.
“I wanted to go to him, Michael. I miss him so! But I heard you calling my name.”
Tears break free as he chokes, “Mom, you were in a coma. I didn’t…” The room is a mess. He closes his eyes, and begins the sentence he couldn’t finish. “I didn’t know you wanted to leave me. Leave us.”
He covers his face, letting go of her hand. She reaches for his white hair, caressing it. “I’m tired of being without him, Mikey. You have enough love to hold you now.”
Zoe burrows into my side, silently crying. I put my arm around her, tears streaming down my cheeks now. Nathan is wiping his eyes, shaking his head. Everyone is just like us.
The doctor arrives, but Caden pushes through to stop her from coming in. “Just give us a second.”
“I have to—”
“Just a few more minutes!”
“This is very out of the ordinary.”
“Yeah, well, that’s us.”
A huge voice we all recognize breaks through. “Grams!” Jett runs up standing on his tip-toes to see her over our heads. “Where the fuck is my Grams?”
She cries out, “Language!” and the whole sobbing room cracks up, wiping their eyes.
It’s a strange feeling, grinning through this much pain, but I wipe my cheeks, clear my throat and look over to see Uncle Jett’s wife, Aunt Luna, behind him with Sofia Sol and Luke. Jett pushes through while they stay back, just outside the door where they can still see everything.
We’re all happy to see them, happy for the respite, our eyes on Jett as the biker we rarely get to see bellows, “Glad I knocked some sense into you people. Why’re you all crying?”
Nancy whispers, “Everyone, look,” and all heads turn to Grams. Her eyes are closed, mouth slack. Grandpa is sobbing over her hand, clasped in both of his.
Jett turns to Jaxson, his best friend, the two eldest Cocker Brothers. They hug and Jett breaks down, silently letting go of the sorrow he was holding back.
Jaxson whispers, “She must have been waiting for you.”
“Don’t say that, Jax!” Jett rasps. “God, I’m so glad I made it. I can’t believe I made it!”
Caden tells the doctor, “Now you can see her.”
Over the top of my sister’s buried head I can see Diana running up, the sight before her unmistakeable in its meaning. Grief-stricken Sofia and Luna don’t notice her. But Luke does and when she asks him, “Is she gone?” he nods.
I whisper, “Nathan,” and motion to Zoe.
He locks eyes with me, and pulls her into his arms. She melts into him, shoulder shaking.
“Excuse me,” I repeat over and over as I squeeze
