“Of course,” my brothers and I all agree.
I enter the waiting room where Grace, Presley, and Angie are waiting. I don’t know if I could’ve made it this last month without Grace. She’s been at my side each time I’ve needed her.
“How’s he doin’?” Presley asks.
Zach shakes his head.
Wyatt explains what the doctor said, and we head to the lab before breaking off into separate rooms.
Grace holds my hand, offering me her support as I wrap my mind around the last few hours. I can’t accept defeat. There has to be a way to get him through this.
The nurse comes around and describes the process. “The doctor explained about the increased need for blood?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Most of the time, there’s a good match in the family and we could store blood exclusively for your father. We’re rushing the results so we should know in a few hours.”
“I understand.”
After they get the vial done she asks us to stay close for the results in case one of us is a match. I ask a few more questions, and I pray I can be the one to help my father. I need to do something, and if giving blood will get him there, I’ll give every ounce I have.
“How’s the baby doin’?” Grace asks Angie, breaking the silence as we all sit and wait.
“Good.” She rubs her stomach. “I’m so glad we’re over all the puking and what not. This baby decided to make good on everything that satanic pregnancy book warned about.”
“Especially the mood swings,” Wyatt pipes in.
Angie silences him with a death stare, which makes everyone around them laugh. I love my sisters-in-law. Both of my brothers found women I enjoy being around. I nestle Grace into my side and kiss the top of her head. I was hoping my father’s health would stay stable.
For the last two weeks, I’ve been planning a big trip for us. She’s always talked about wanting to go to the beach. Mama has a friend whose daughter lives in Virginia Beach. Natalie’s husband, Liam, is a Navy SEAL and she’s visiting her family for a month while he’s deployed. She offered us their house instead of staying in some hotel. I haven’t seen Lee since she was eight. She and Wyatt used to be close when they were kids, but then they moved out of town and we lost touch. However, I’m not sure if we’ll get out there next week if Dad keeps getting worse.
“Take a walk with me?” I ask, needing to get out of this waiting room. She nods and we start down the hall. “I hate it here.”
“I don’t think anyone likes hospitals.” Grace holds on to my bicep as we walk. “Your dad is okay, though. He’ll get the blood, and then you guys can figure out a plan. I know it seems like it’s a lot, but I know if any family can find a way, it’s yours.”
“And then what?” I ask. “He goes through another round of chemo and we maybe get another month with him?”
“I know it’s not ideal, but you have to have faith.”
For the first time since all this came crashing down, I understand why he chose to not tell us. There’s no guarantees and what if all of this was for nothing? What if all that fighting only causes him to miss out on living his life because he’s too sick to leave the hospital. If he didn’t agree to fight it, he could’ve spent time with his kids and wife.
I think about the calls that I didn’t answer or when he asked me to go fishing and I blew him off. I’m so fucking mad at myself. I should’ve been there checking on him. He’s my dad and I can’t help but think about the wasted time I can’t get back.
We sit on the bench outside the entrance. I feel helpless, and that isn’t something I’m used to. “If we lose him . . .”
“You can’t think that way, honey. You have to be strong for him because he’s going to look to you.” Grace’s blue eyes fill with emotion. “You’re the oldest, Trent. You have to hold this family together.”
She’s right, but I don’t know what to do. If I push him, am I doing it for selfish reasons? No. It’s not selfish for me to want my father to live. There are things he has left to do. Like seeing Wyatt’s child, watching me finally stop being a pussy and marry Grace, go hunting again and bag the deer, beating up on the three of us when we fight at our annual fish off, and so much more. He’s the glue in this family.
He may not be the vocal one, but he’s the backbone.
“I can’t let him die.” My head drops into my hands.
Grace’s arms wrap around me and she holds me together. I’m not an emotional person by nature. I think my job has forced me to always keep some barrier between me and my feelings. It isn’t as if I work in a big city riddled with violence, but I somehow think that makes it worse. Having to respond to a traffic accident or incident involving someone I know is far worse than one involving a nameless stranger. To do my job, I have to shut it all out. This, though, this is unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
He’s my father.
And I’m going to lose him.
Grace and I head back to the waiting room, and the doctor is there waiting. “Trent, good. I have the lab results.” He holds the papers in the air.
“Are any of us a match?” I question.
“Wyatt is the closest match, so we’d like to get him started first. Zach is the next best option.” The doctor extends his arm as Wyatt steps forward. “Go ahead with the nurse and she’ll get you ready.”
Zach goes back to his seat, and I move toward the doctor. “Doc? Was I not a match?” I ask.
“Your blood type isn’t a match, so unfortunately you won’t be able to donate.”
“I see.” I hate that I can’t contribute in any way. “So, Wyatt will donate and if need be Zach will also? Is that the next step?”
“Yes.” He nods. “Your mother is also a possibility, but she doesn’t carry the same antibodies as your brothers.”
“Well, I’m glad some of us can help.”
“Trent?” He pauses and then shakes his head. “Never mind. I’m going to check on your dad, and I’ll be back with some answers once we start the transfusion.”
“What did you want to say?”
“Nothing, son. I need to get back there.” He drops what’s supposed to be a reassuring pat on my shoulder and walks away.
I had hoped I could do something. The sitting around and waiting is driving me crazy. I want to help, go get a new doctor, find a treatment plan, donate blood, or anything at this point.
“You okay?” Grace asks as I watch the doctor walk down the hall.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m glad you’re here.” We sit so her head rests on my shoulder and I start to calm a little.
“There’s nowhere else I’d be.”
“I should go check on my father,” I say, trying to keep my shit together.
“Okay, honey.”
We walk through the doors, and Grace heads to the waiting room to check if anyone needs anything. Wyatt is still getting his blood drawn, Zach is still in the same fucking chair, and my mother is with Dad.
I’m not sure how it’ll go, but I know that time is of the essence, and I’m not wasting anymore.
I walk closer and hear my mother’s voice animated and frustrated.
Please don’t let this be bad news.
“No, you can’t tell him anything.”
“I didn’t say anything to him because I wanted to talk to you first, Macie, but he has a right to know what the tests came back as,” Dr. Halpern’s voice is agitated but remains quiet. “If he sees this, he’ll know.”
“He can’t know. Do you understand, John? He can’t know, it would destroy him.”
I hang back and listen. My mother has kept quite a few secrets lately, and she’s not going to do that to my father. If there’s something going on, he and my brothers have a right to hear it.
But then I hear my father’s voice. “He doesn’t need to know. Not now.”
“I’m not tryin’ to get involved in your family business, but that boy isn’t dumb, and he’ll figure it out. It should come from you both. B
efore it’s too late. The test results are his to see. I can’t hide them from him.”
“Only if he asks to see them.”
“If he asks, I won’t keep them from him.”
My mother lets out a heavy sigh, and I shuffle forward a bit more, needing to know what the hell is going on. “I know. I know what you’re sayin’,” her voice shakes.
“I’m just bein’ a friend and tellin’ you that if he’s not his son, he should know.”
Every muscle in my body locks as I hang on every word. Then it hits me. Someone in our family isn’t my father’s son. Someone who wasn’t a match. There’s only one someone here who was clearly not a candidate.
This can’t be real. There’s a mistake.
“Trent is his son in every way that matters,” Mama says before falling silent for a beat. “We’d planned to tell him, but—”
“No one tells him I’m not his father.”
And the floor drops out from under me.
I’m not my father’s son.
I’m not a Hennington.
Chapter 18
Grace
“I s Trent doin’ okay back there?” I ask Mrs. Hennington as she returns from where Mr. Hennington is now receiving the transfusion.
I figured he was talking to his parents and getting things in order, but it’s been over two hours. He wasn’t in the greatest shape when he left the waiting room, and I’ve been sitting here worried sick about him.
“I haven’t seen him, sugar.”
“What? He went back there a few hours ago . . .”
Mrs. Hennington looks around. “I’ve been in the room the entire time, and I never saw him.”
I’m confused. I watched him go. “Has anyone seen Trent?” I ask, and everyone says no or shakes their head.
I grab my phone and text him.
Me: Hey. Where are you?
“I’m sure he’s in the cafeteria. Maybe go check there?” Zach suggests.
“I’ll be back.” I walk down the hall with a niggling feeling in my gut. Something’s off. Trent wouldn’t be in the cafeteria for two hours. Not when he said he was going to check on his dad.
I search the cafeteria, but he isn’t here. I check the lab and then the chapel, all with no Trent. There’s still no reply from him, and my heart starts to race.
Me: I’ve been looking for you, are you here?
“Hey.” Presley bumps into me on my way back to the waiting area. “Did you find him?
“No. He’s not anywhere.”
She grabs her phone and raises it to her ear. “Trent, I don’t know where you are, but please call me back.” Presley disconnects the phone. “I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe he went to clear his head.”
“For two hours?”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “I don’t either.”
“I’m sure he’ll turn up. He could’ve gotten called for work?”
That’s possible. A call could’ve come in, and because he’s the sheriff, he would have to go. Although, I’m not totally sure that’s it. He would’ve said goodbye. I can’t put my finger on it, but my gut is telling me something is off.
We head back to the waiting room where everyone is sitting around. Everyone except him. “Did he come back?”
“No.” Wyatt shakes his head and looks around. “Anyone else see him?”
No one has, which makes the knots in my stomach twist tighter. “I’m going to head to the house and check the station.” I grab my purse and turn to the door, but Zach stops me.
“Let us know when you find him.”
I nod and shoot off another text.
Me: I’m getting worried. Please tell me you’re okay.
He doesn’t respond, and now I’m running to the car trying to figure out where Trent would have gone on foot since he didn’t drive here in his own car.
I call him three times, and all of them go straight to voice mail. No text messages back, nothing. This isn’t like him. Even when he would pull away, it was never radio silence. And if it were a work thing, he’d have texted me back.
I pass the station, and his squad car sits in the lot, but he is not there. The deputy on duty hasn’t seen him but promised to let me know if he hears from him, which isn’t very helpful.
This is crazy.
My mind reels as fear starts to take hold. I don’t know where he is or if something is wrong. After the way he was in the hospital, I can’t imagine him taking off like this.
I go to his house, and his truck isn’t there either.
Shit.
I check inside, just in case, and nothing is missing or moved. Where the hell did he go?
There’s no telling why he left like that. I call Presley, giving her the rundown of all the places Trent isn’t. Before I hang up, I let her know to tell everyone I’m headed home to wait for him and I’ll call if I find him.
All I can do now is hope for the best.
* * *
I t’s been fifteen hours and no sign of Trent. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve called him. He must’ve shut his phone off because it doesn’t even ring anymore.
I try to keep calm, but nothing makes sense. He’s changed so much over the last few months. He’s been steadfast, strong, and even with his father being sick, he’s been happy. He wouldn’t leave like this. He promised me he wouldn’t just leave like this.
I head back to the hospital, hoping maybe he’ll materialize there.
Angie walks over and embraces me. “I’m sure he’ll show up. He couldn’t go far without someone seeing him.”
“It’s been hours.” My voice trembles. “No one has heard from him?”
She shakes her head.
Mrs. Hennington comes out from the back and heads right to me. “Where’s Trent?”
I look to everyone, but Zach steps forward. “We’re not sure. He’s been gone for a while now.”
“What do you mean he’s gone?” Mrs. Hennington asks with worry laced in her voice. “Gone where?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since yesterday when he said he was goin’ to see you and Rhett,” I explain. “I’ve checked his house, the station, our place, the ranch, but I can’t find him.”
“Do you think he left?” She looks to Wyatt. “With Dad in the hospital?”
I feel hollow inside. I don’t want to believe he took off without a word. His family, me, and his friends are all mystified. I know he’s in pain, I can accept that, but this isn’t the way to handle things.
Presley puts her hand on my back while Zach starts cursing and pacing. He’s had plenty to say about what he thinks.
Wyatt grabs his phone and dials. “Listen, you selfish son of a bitch. You got two hours to get your shit straight and then I better see your ass at this hospital.”
Wyatt doesn’t run away from issues, for the most part. He’s always been the one who forces us to deal with our issues. If he finds Trent first, I have a feeling someone will have a few bruises.
“I can’t believe he’d do this with his father in the hospital. I mean, I know he can do senseless things, but this seems out of character, even for him.”
Wyatt moves forward. His hands are balled into fists and his jaw is clenched. “He’s an asshole. Always an asshole. Dad’s sick, and he’s bein’ a selfish prick.”
Angie steps over to Wyatt. “Listen, until someone talks to him, I think we should all hold our opinions to ourselves. We have no idea what’s going on. For all we know, he’s handling something we don’t know about. Did anyone talk to Hank?”
“Hank hasn’t heard from Trent, but he promises he’ll call if he shows up.”
Mrs. Hennington sits and puts her head in her hands. “What if something is wrong? What if he’s hurt? Why wouldn’t he call his family?”
Angie shrugs. “I don’t know . . . I’m just hoping for the best.”
Wyatt leans in, kisses her lips, and shakes his head. “I love you, baby, but my brother has some explaining to
do. He’s not at the farm. He’s run off because shit got hard. It’s what he does.”
“Those in glass houses . . .” Angie trails off and takes his hand. “I love you, too. I would really love you more if you could get me some fries.”
He laughs and crouches in front of her belly. “You’re hungry again, little one?”
“He or she has their daddy’s appetite,” she grumbles.
“It’s a boy,” Wyatt says proudly. “I can feel it.”
Angie rolls her eyes.
“I can’t believe y’all won’t find out.” Presley shakes her head. “Mama H. and I are goin’ crazy!”
“I’m sure—” Angie grabs her belly and winces. “Damn Braxton Hicks.” She breathes through a few seconds, and Wyatt helps her to a seat.
“You need to get my daughter-in-law to her bed,” Mrs. Hennington urges. “She’s been on her feet all day . . .”
“I’m fine.” She waves her off. “I’m in the hospital so if anything happens, we’re in the best place.”
“Angie, honey.” Mrs. Hennington takes her face in her hands. “You need to take care of that baby in there.” She turns to the rest of us. “Dad has a few hours before anyone can see him. Dr. Halpern said he needs his rest. Tomorrow, we’re going to talk to the doctor again, but we’ve all been here a while, and nothing is changin’.”
“If anything changes, you’ll call, right?” Zach asks.
She gives a sad smile. “Yes, honey, no more secrets. I promise I’ll call if anything happens.”
Everyone starts to hug and say goodbye. Mrs. Hennington heads back to her husband. Zach and Presley leave. Then Wyatt and Angie are the next to go, but I just sit here. I’m not family, but I don’t want to go home.
I start to rack my brain even more about where he could be.
My phone dings with a text, and I scramble to find the small device buried in my purse.
Hank: Trent called and said he’s going to be out of work for a while. Didn’t say why or for how long, but I thought you might want to know.
Say I'm Yours Page 18
