“Hey,” he says when he sees me standing before him. He offers up a sleepy smile.
I can’t reply. I can’t do anything but launch myself into his arms, kissing him like he’s the air I need to breathe.
He kisses me back for a long minute. Finally, he pulls away, cupping my cheeks. “What’s gotten into you?”
I let out a nervous giggle and shake my head. “I just didn’t want to waste any more time.”
With that, he moves his mouth back to mine as he picks me up against him. Spinning us around, he carries me into the house and kicks the door closed behind us. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he carries me up the stairs to his bed. He lays me down gently, his hips resting between my parted thighs. He pulls away, staring deeply into my eyes as his thumbs brush the hair from my face.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he asks, making my heart flutter.
I offer him a smile as I gaze into his dark eyes. Moments later, the pull between us becomes too great and he moves his mouth back to mine as his hands get busy freeing me from my clothing.
We’re lying in bed, wrapped up in each other’s arms. The house is quiet around us, the sun streaming in through the window above the bed. All I can hear is the sound of his breathing and the lull of his heart as I rest my head on his chest.
“How was your dad?” I ask.
He takes a deep breath and lets it out. “I didn’t go last night. It was too late by the time I got out of the shower.”
I lift my head up to see his face. “Did you go today?”
He shakes his head.
I rest my hand on his jaw, directing his eyes to mine. “Wyatt, you have to face him. How would you feel if he died tomorrow? You’d regret not going to see him.”
“I know,” he breathes out. “I’m just . . .”
“Scared?” I ask, and he nods. “I understand. I felt the same way when it came to seeing my dad after his stroke. But he’s my dad. He would be there in a heartbeat for me. It’s only right to do the same for him.”
“I know. It’s just hard to make myself go. I always find something that gets in the way—work, going out, you—there’s always an excuse.”
“Well, what if I went with you?”
“You’d do that?” he asks, eyes locking on mine.
In this moment, he seems like a scared little boy and my heart hurts for him. I nod.
“Thank you,” he breathes out, kissing me softly.
We get up and make the drive out to his dad’s house. We exit the car and head up to the door, where he knocks a couple of times.
A woman wearing scrubs answers the door. “Good evening, Wyatt. I’m glad to see you made it over. He’s been asking about you.”
“How’s he doing?” Wyatt asks the woman.
“He’s doing well—eating healthy, getting exercise daily, and staying off the booze. That’s the most important part.” She leads us into the living room where an old man is sitting in his recliner, watching TV.
“Hey, Dad. How you doing?” he asks, walking in ahead of me.
“Wyatt, is that you?” the old man asks, attempting to get up.
“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t get up, Dad. You need your rest.” He leans down and hugs him.
I take a seat on the couch.
“Dad, this is Destiny. You remember her?”
He laughs. “Of course I do. How you been, honey?”
I smile. “Great, thanks.”
“You’re looking good, Dad. I think your nurse may be on to something,” Wyatt teases.
The old man waves his hand through the air. “When it’s my time, it’s my time. I’d rather spend the little time I have left living a normal life. My normal life.”
“Well, all that whiskey can’t be good for you. And you’ve been drinking like a fish for years. I’m surprised you still have a liver.”
“There are already spots on it!” the nurse says from the kitchen.
“Oh, you can just shush it!” Wyatt’s dad yells at her.
“Of course my liver has spots. Look at my arms; they’re everywhere. The inside matches the outside,” he laughs out.
“Next time you come, son, sneak me in a bottle of something, would you?”
“I don’t think so, Dad,” Wyatt says.
“Don’t make me pat your guests down before they come into the house,” the nurse warns.
Mr. Slade shoots daggers at her with his eyes as he grumbles quietly to himself. “Wyatt, I need you to look into getting me a new nurse. This one’s abusing me.”
I manage to hold back my laugh, but I can’t hold off the smile.
Wyatt laughs. “Dad, I don’t think keeping you away from the liquor cabinet is abuse. Why don’t you just focus on getting better so you no longer need a nurse?”
He points at Wyatt knowingly. “That sounds like a good idea.”
We sit and talk with his dad for an hour or so. When we load back up in the truck, Wyatt has a wide smile.
“See, that wasn’t so bad, right?”
“I guess not. I sure did miss that old man. He’s so full of piss and vinegar. You know, that’s going to be me one of these days.”
I laugh. “By that point, I’ll probably be pouring the whiskey down your throat just to get you to shut up,” I joke.
He picks up my hand that’s sitting between us and presses a kiss to the back. “Will you stay with me tonight?”
My mom’s words echo in my head. I don’t want to waste another minute of not being with him. “Of course I will,” I answer. He gives a smile and starts the truck, driving us back to his house for the night.
I wake in the middle of the night with my cell phone ringing from the bedside table. I groan as I roll over to grab it, seeing my mom’s name on the screen. I take a deep breath, realizing I never told her I wasn’t coming home tonight.
I answer the call. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, Mama . . .” I start, but she cuts me off.
“Destiny, it’s about your father. I had to call 9-1-1. I’m on my way to the hospital. Please, come quickly!”
“Okay, I’ll be right there,” I say, hanging up the phone and throwing off the blankets in a hurry.
“What’s wrong?” Wyatt asks, waking up.
“Something is going on with my dad. Mama just called and said they were taking him to the hospital. I have to go.”
He sits up. “Wait, let me drive you.”
I pull my jeans on. “Are you sure? Don’t you have work in the morning?”
He waves his hand through the air as he climbs out of bed and heads for the closet. “This is more important.”
We both quickly pull on our clothes and jump into his car, then he drives us through the darkness. The night air is cold, so Wyatt blasts the heat. I thought it was the temperature that was causing me to shake, but now I know it’s just my nerves. I pray over and over that my dad will be fine—that he doesn’t lose his ability to talk or walk again. Mama didn’t say what was going on, so maybe it’s nothing serious. Maybe he just had a little fall and needed to be checked out. I pray that it’s not another stroke. I don’t know how much more he can take. He already seems so frail and weak.
Wyatt must pick up on my fear. He reaches over and takes my hand in his, his thumb gently sweeping back and forth across the skin as he drives us toward the hospital.
“He’ll be okay, Des,” Wyatt says, nearly making me jump. I was so focused on my own thoughts that I didn’t realize how quiet the car was.
“How do you know?” I ask, biting down on my lower lip.
“I just know. He’s a strong man. This is just a rough patch. That’s what he told me.”
“When? When did he tell you that?” I ask, remembering that Wyatt and my dad haven’t spoken since we’ve been back home.
He takes a deep breath. “Back in high school. It was the day before our graduation and I came out to your house because you’d been avoiding me. I was going to make you hear me out. When I pulled into the drive, y
our dad stepped out of the barn. He knew something was going on with us. He’d figured it out given how you’d been acting, coupled with the fact that I hadn’t been around in a while. I basically cried on his shoulder. But he patted me on the back and said, ‘Son, this is just a rough patch. If you’re meant to be together, you’ll be together. The world always finds a way.’”
I smile from hearing his words. “That does sound like my dad.”
He nods. “He’s a smart man. And he’s strong. Whatever’s going on right now, he’ll overcome it. It’s just a rough patch.”
I rest my head back against the seat and stare out the windshield as we get closer and closer. But Wyatt’s story has helped to calm the fear and worry that were raging inside me. He’s right. My dad is strong. He’s the strongest man I know. I’ve watched the man overcome the drought—he kept our farm going on little to nothing. I’ve seen him battle any illness he’s had and come out stronger on the other side. And now, there’s this. His stroke could’ve killed him, but it didn’t. It only slowed him down some. He’s not giving up and neither am I. We’ll get past this. Wyatt and I will end up together. And my dad will walk me down the aisle when the time is right. Everything will work out.
Fifteen
Wyatt
I’m driving as fast as I can, but it doesn’t feel like we’re getting any closer. I told Destiny a story I hold close to my heart and that seems to have calmed her some. She’s no longer shaking, worrying her lip, or shifting in her seat. Now she seems content, like she knows this is just another storm we have to wait out.
It takes us almost an hour to get to the hospital, and we rush inside the moment I turn off the car. We stop at the front desk and get the information we need to find her dad’s room, then race up to the third floor: the stroke center.
Mrs. Parker is waiting in the hallway as we approach.
“Mama!” Destiny yells, running to her. She immediately pulls her in for a hug. “What’s going on?” she asks.
“I thought it was another stroke, but the doctor thinks it was a TIA.”
“And what is that, exactly?” she asks.
The doctor exits the room and we all turn to face him.
“TIA is short for Transient Ischemic Attack. It’s a stroke-like attack. Sometimes this is a warning sign for a future stroke. However, we’re going to adjust his blood thinner to try to keep his blood from clotting. We’re also going to keep him here just for observation. If he’s preparing to have another stroke, right here is where he needs to be. Time is of the essence when it comes to a stroke. He’s resting right now, but you can go in to see him if you’d like.”
“Thank you,” Mrs. Parker says, turning to Destiny. “Do you want to come in?”
She waves her off. “Go ahead. I’ll give you a little alone time with him.”
Her mother nods before running into the room.
I reach out and pull Destiny against me for a hug. “You okay?”
She nods but I hear her sniffle. “He can’t take another stroke.”
I rub my hand up and down her back. “The doctor said it may be a warning sign. Hopefully they can catch it in time. Everything will be okay. You just need to try to stay calm. Come on, let’s have a seat.” I lead her over to a bench resting against the wall.
We take our seats and I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her to my side. Before I know it, she’s sound asleep, resting her head on my shoulder. I sit and watch the hospital staff moving around us until I finally lean my head back against the wall, my eyes drifting closed.
I wake when Destiny sits up, finding her mother standing before us.
“Why don’t you two head home? There’s nothing here for you to do,” Mrs. Parker says.
“No, Mama, I’m staying with you. Do you need anything? You want us to run home and get you each a fresh set of clothes? Do you want us to grab you some food?”
“Well, your father will need some clean clothes for when he’s discharged. And depending on how long we’re here, I may need some too.”
“Okay, we’ll run home and get some things and bring them back with some food. Hospital food always sucks,” Destiny says.
I stand up and stretch, my back stiff and sore from sleeping in a seated position for the last few hours. When we leave the hospital, I find that it’s daylight. I check my watch to see it’s going on 7 a.m.
“Want to grab some breakfast? It’s a long drive home.”
“Yeah, okay,” she agrees.
We stop at an IHOP and I order an omelet while she gets a stack of pancakes that she tops with strawberry-flavored syrup. She’s quiet while she eats, but not getting much sleep and the stress of her father’s health are probably playing a role in all of that. I try to keep the conversation light and fun, but she’s too exhausted to contribute much. After we eat, we drive straight to her parents’ house, where she gets busy preparing an overnight kit for them. While she’s packing, I make myself useful by letting out the dog and filling his food and water bowls. I sweep and mop the floor where the EMTs must have made a mess. There are muddy footprints cutting straight through the kitchen, along with muddy tire tracks from the gurney. Once all of that is done, I look around the spotless kitchen trying to find another job.
“I think I got everything,” she says, setting a duffel bag down on the kitchen table.
“Do you think we should pack your mom some snacks in case they’re in the hospital a while?”
“That’s a good idea. Oh, and I’m going to grab her knitting bag too. That way she’ll have something to do while she waits.”
While she goes in search of the knitting bag, I rummage through the cabinets looking for snacks to pack. I toss in a box of Pop-Tarts, a couple little bags of chips, a few cereal bars, and some nuts. She comes back and places the knitting bag into the duffel and we’re ready to go.
We load back into my car and I stop at a gas station before leaving town. She insists on paying while I pump, saying she’s also going to go in to stock us up on drinks and snacks for the drive. I’m standing at the car pumping gas when I hear a woman’s voice.
“Wyatt, I didn’t expect to see you!”
I turn around to find Ashely. “Hey, how are you?”
She offers up her best flirty smile. “Better now that you’re back in town.”
My eyes flash to the doors of the gas station, wondering if Destiny is seeing this exchange. God knows I don’t want her feeling jealous or worrying about it. “Listen, Ash, I know we had a thing back in the day . . .” I start, but she cuts me off.
She steps toward me and places her hands on the side of my neck. “We sure did, didn’t we?” She looks me up and down before wetting her lips. “I’m newly single if you want to pick up where we left off.” She steps closer, her breasts almost touching my chest.
I remove her hands from my neck and step back. “Actually, no. Destiny and I are back together, so . . .”
“Oh, well, I don’t care. It can be our little secret,” she says, just as Destiny is approaching the car.
Ashely looks from me, to Destiny, and back. “Well, call me!” she says, turning to walk away. She flashes Destiny a smile to add insult to injury.
Destiny rolls her eyes and climbs into the car. I remove the gas hose and hang it up before replacing the cap and climbing into the car.
“So I got us candy, chips, and jerky. Sound good?” she asks.
I nod and start the car. “Aren’t you going to ask me what that was about?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know if I want to know.”
“She was offering to pick up where we left off,” I tell her, wanting everything out in the open.
“And what did you say?”
“I said I was with you.”
She smiles at me. “That’s good enough for me.” She leans in and kisses me softly. “Now, let’s get back to the hospital.”
I shift into drive and hit the gas. On the ride, Destiny seems more relaxed and carefree. She talks, laughs, and
sings along with the radio, but I wonder what’s really going on in that head of hers. She reacted to the run-in with Ashely better than I thought she would.
I reach forward and turn down the music. “Are you sure you’re okay about Ashely?”
“What do you mean?” she asks, drawing her brows together.
“I just expected more of a response out of you. Especially after I told you about our hookups back in the day.
She shrugs. “I just decided to take my mom’s advice—now more than ever.”
“And what advice was that?” I ask.
“She said she would give anything to get one more day with Daddy before his stroke, and that I shouldn’t waste today by worrying about tomorrow or yesterday. So, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
I pick up her hand and press a kiss to the back.
We stop at a drive-thru and get her mom a burger, fries, and a soda, and take everything back to the hospital. We walk into her dad’s room and he’s hooked up to all kinds of hoses and IVs. He seems thin, pale, and weak. He looks nothing like the man I used to know.
“Wyyy-atttt?” he asks when I step into the room.
I give him a smile. “Hi, Mr. Parker. How you doing?”
He nods. “Ffffff-ine,” he slurs.
I do my best to control my facial expression. I don’t want him to think I’m looking at him with pity. “I bet a strong man like you will be out of here in no time.”
He smiles a crooked smile. Due to the stroke, the left side of his face doesn’t move much.
“Do you need anything, Daddy?” Destiny asks.
“Hooome,” he jokes.
She laughs. “As soon as we can take you home, we will,” she promises.
“Why don’t I go get you a paper or something to do with all your time?” I ask.
He nods and I leave the room, needing a moment to myself. Seeing a strong man like Mr. Parker being taken down like that is life-altering. I mean, you go through life working and taking care of your family, and the next thing you know, everything is being taken away from you and changing. I know it’s killing him to be stuck in that bed after living the way he did for so many years. He was always active—working, laughing, going for a few beers with the boys. He was on the bowling team and he helped coach the local T-ball team in the summers. He was always up and moving, and now he’s confined to a damn bed.
The Slade Brothers: A Complete Small Town Contemporary Romance Collection Page 68
