Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Stay as long as you need. We’re fine here.” Eric’s voice was firm, which was a relief. Ever since his late husband had died, I’d lived in his basement to help out with his four teens. This trip was the longest I’d been away since the funeral, and my guts had been twisted for days with worry over Eric and the house. “Oz is doing great with Rowan and John walking him. The kids miss you, but everyone’s fine. Tony and Caleb are pitching in, and Maren will be here for winter break as soon as her finals are done.”
“Good.” I swallowed hard. The stark conditions at the hospital made me miss home and my dog that much more. Being back in Utah had me on edge the second we crossed the state line. I felt strangely fragile, like I’d forgotten to pack a coat or like some protective layer of skin had been stripped away. “I feel guilty—”
“Don’t. Sean and Denver need you more. You made the right call to go. Now, take care of yourself too.”
“Thanks.”
I wasn’t sure how much more compassion I could bear, so I breathed easier as Eric wrapped up the call in short order. I wasn’t the one with the injured kid, nor was I the one recovering from the loss of a spouse. I didn’t need caretaking. That was my role in our friendship circle.
After ending the call, I returned to the ICU waiting area, where Denver had used an empty chair to stretch his long legs out in front of him. His eyes were shut, but he opened them as soon as I neared.
“How’s Eric?” he asked, voice rough like he’d been dozing. Not surprising, considering none of us had had much sleep.
“Okay. Things are running well at the house, apparently.” Something in my tone must have revealed my ambivalence because Denver gave a sage nod.
“Which is good, even if you do like to think you’re indispensable.”
“I don’t…” I exhaled hard because Denver was one of those people with the uncanny ability to make lying impossible. His brown eyes always seemed to know the truth. “Okay, maybe I do like to be useful, but I’m glad Eric is managing the household with some help from Tony and Caleb.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” Denver wasn’t the sort to be overly emotional, so the gruff compliment was high praise. “Wish one of us could make Sean eat and rest.”
I’d found a hotel room within walking distance of the medical complex, but so far, only Denver and I had taken turns power-napping and grabbing showers there. Sean had passed the point of running on fumes days ago and was heading toward a breakdown, not that he wanted to hear that. And not that anything would get him to move even a few inches from Declan’s bedside.
I, however, had tons of experience with stubborn family members of patients. “Let me try.”
“Hey, buddy,” I said softly to Sean as I stepped into Declan’s area, which was more spacious and private than an ER cubicle but more visible to nursing staff than a typical hospital room. The ICU had a policy of allowing only one visitor per patient at a time, but the nursing staff hadn’t objected to Denver or me checking in on Sean. In fact, the nurse I’d spoken with most recently had welcomed our concern because the staff had noticed how rundown Sean was getting. His eyes were bleary and red, his skin blotchy, and he had days’ worth of reddish-white beard bristle. “How are you holding up?”
“His numbers are staying steady. He’s breathing on his own.” Sean gestured at the bed where Declan was hooked up to an impressive assortment of wires and monitors. I took the opportunity to look over Declan’s vitals for myself. What was left of Declan’s hair was darker than his father’s, more auburn than bright red. The last time I’d seen him, it had been artfully styled. He wouldn’t be happy with the present state of affairs. The rest of him hadn’t fared much better with various casts and splints. Something about his vulnerability made my breath catch as Sean continued his rundown of Declan’s improvements. “And the EEG is promising. That’s a good sign.”
“They’re all great signs.” I crouched next to Sean’s hard plastic chair. “But I asked about you, not the patient.”
“I’m fine.” Sean waved away my concern with a frustrated noise.
“You are not.” I could be stern when I wanted to, and I added a harsh look. “By my count, you’re on hour seventy-two or more with no real sleep. And you’ve eaten about enough to keep a fly alive.”
“I don’t want to leave Declan.” Sean’s voice cracked. “I don’t want him to wake up alone and confused. What if he can’t find a call button? Or panics? The nursing staff is overburdened as it is…”