“It’s not really something you say over the phone.” He shrugs. “I was worried you’d overreact.”
I pin him with a glare.
He chuckles. “I was right.”
I don’t know why I keep allowing fear to hold me hostage, but I need to stop. It steals precious moments. It roots me in the past when the future could be bright.
“Come on.” Ricky slings an arm around his shoulder. “Love you, Alicia.”
“Love you, too.” I lean into him, wrapping my arm around his waist as we walk back to the waiting area. I offer Lucía what I hope is a friendly smile and take the seat next to her. Mom watches us with an inquisitive stare and it adds to my nerves.
“I’m sorry about before,” I whisper, hoping she gives me another chance. “I put my fear and frustrations on you and that wasn’t fair.”
She nods, her eyes cast down.
“I’d like to get to know you. That is, if you want to?”
Her gaze lifts and she nods, her lips curving with the hint of a smile. “I would like that very much.” Her accent is thick. It makes me wonder about her life and everything she’s been through. She’s a stranger for now, but I hope not forever.
I look over to Eddie. “Did they say how long it’ll be?”
“At least two more hours.” He exhales a weary sigh. “But it could be more. Depends on how things go once they . . .” He trails off, his gaze darting to check on Mom.
I nod, not wanting to upset anyone further. The minutes pass painfully slowly. Mom stares aimlessly at the wall, Eddie and Ricky take turns getting up to pace, and Lucía’s prayer beads tap together each time she shifts them in her lap. I check my phone obsessively, though I don’t expect anyone to call.
“That is your son?” Lucía motions to my phone. My screen saver is a photo of him from his second birthday.
“Yeah. His name is Matthew.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but our attention moves across the room.
Exiting the elevator is Chase. His hands are full with two drink carriers and a fast food bag cradled to his chest. He moves toward us, his features soft with a gentleness that contrasts his size. “I thought everyone could use some coffee.”
I’m frozen. Overcome. I blink to make sure I’m not hallucinating.
“You are my hero.” My brother Eddie shoves to his feet and rushes to take one of the drink carriers from Chase’s hands. “We didn’t get a chance to meet earlier. I’m Eduardo, Alicia’s brother.”
“I’m Chase,” he says before glancing at me as if he’d like to say more, but isn’t sure he should.
I stand and walk over to join them. “Chase is Matthew’s father.” Pride fills my chest as I make introductions. I’ve kept Matthew’s paternity private for so long, it’s freeing to speak the truth. “This is my other brother, Ricky.”
Ricky’s gaze bounces from me to Chase and back again, his jaw slack with shock.
“Coffee?” Chase holds out the tray of drinks. “I got breakfast sandwiches too. I wasn’t sure what everyone liked, so there’s a bit of everything.”
“Thank you.” Ricky recovers quickly. “This is so thoughtful.” He takes the food to pass out.
I step forward, warmth filling my chest. “Hey.”
Chase hands me one of the coffees, our fingers brushing in the process. Neither of us pulls away. “Hey.”
I want to ask why he came back. I want to confess everything in my heart. All the fears that hold me back. All the love I still have for him. I don’t even care that it’s in the presence of my family in the middle of a freaking hospital waiting room.
But the shuffle of movement near one of the doors draws our attention before I can mutter a simple thank you.
Two medical professionals enter, one man and one woman. Their faces are exhausted and the mood in the room shifts at their presence. Unease prickles down my spine as a chill runs through my body.
“Mrs. Martin.” The man calls my mother’s name.
It’s then I know. Even before the words leave his lips. Even before the world as I know it stops spinning.
I don’t even process what the surgeon says, but the sobs of my mother when they tell her my daddy’s gone will haunt me forever. Tears stream hot on my face. My head feels light. My body is outside of itself, as if I'm not even here. But my soul, it feels everything, and the pain is indescribable.
It’s too much.
I’d do anything to make it stop.
38
Chase
I’m no stranger to death or tragedy. Unfortunately, in my profession I deal with it often. But there is something excruciating about watching the woman I love as she’s told her father is no longer with us. The grief of her family makes me suspect he was well loved in spite of his faults.
I stick by her side through it all. I hold her. Offer words of assurance in an attempt to soothe her pain. But nothing makes this better.
I offer to drive Alicia and her mom home and her brothers agree, promising to come by in a few hours. The ride is uncomfortably silent. Alicia huddles into her seat, her body curling away from mine. She’s despondent, and my worry grows with each passing minute. I can’t tell whether she’s in shock or simply processing her grief. Either way, I feel totally helpless. I wish I could take this from her, carry the load, but all I can offer is to stay. To be witness to her pain. It doesn’t feel enough.
Her mom sits in the back seat, staring out the window. She stopped crying a few minutes ago and now appears almost numb. I don’t know which is worse. Both are heartbreaking.
I pull into the drive and park as close as possible to the front
