“You don’t mean this. You don’t.” It’s half sob, half scream, like getting louder can get through to him. I grab for his wrist. His hand. My heart won’t beat. It hangs in pieces. “Please. Don’t do this. Please, let me stay.”
He pats my cheek, sarcastic and mean. “We’re finished now, Haley. Done. Don’t come back.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Haley
The public hospital at the outskirts of Bishop’s Landing is a threadbare place. It’s not like the gleaming hospital wing where Leo went when he was shot. Where I went. This place is all fluorescent lights and yellowing tile and the sharp smell of disinfectant. I look ridiculous in my pink coat. I feel worse than ridiculous. I feel like there’s a giant bloody hole in my chest that everyone can see and no one can fix.
“This way,” says the nurse who’s taking me to see my dad. “He’s in room number nine. We’re going to be monitoring him very closely through the night. The surgery will be first thing in the morning.”
“He’s—” I hate this. I hate this. “He’s awake? He’s talking?”
The nurse puts a compassionate hand on my arm. “He’s shaken up, but he’s talking. The man just survived a heart attack. You’ll have to take things slow.”
I don’t know what that means, but I don’t get a chance to ask, because we’re here.
My dad is tucked into a narrow hospital bed, the rails up on one side and a lamp burning behind him. He doesn’t look any better than he did on TV. His face is colorless and clammy and he looks so small. So helpless. His eyes go to me the second I step in the room. “Haley,” he says. “Sweetheart.”
He lifts his arms to me. I drop down on his bed and hug him back like he’s made of glass. He’s so much older now than he used to be. There’s so much more gray in his hair. I didn’t pay much attention before. The change was gradual, and we were busy, and he was happily consumed in his work. We weren’t rich. We were never that kind of Constantine. But life was simple. “Hi, Daddy.”
His sigh sounds off. “I’m so sorry, honey. I’m sorry you had to see that.” A tired laugh. “I didn’t mean to have a heart attack in the middle of my speech.”
“Daddy—” I let myself listen to his heart for a few more beats, and then I sit up so I can see him. “Why were you doing that? Did you really think I’d been taken? I told you it was all right.”
The corners of his mouth tremble. “I didn’t think you’d been taken. I heard what you said. And Cash said you were doing fine.”
“Then why?”
“Caroline came over.” His eyes cloud. “You know my mind is always on my work. It’s hard to stop it from wandering. There’s so much to do, and now that you kids are grown up, I don’t have to worry. Not quite so much, anyway. But she said so many things, Haley. She had so much to say about you, and about Leo, and about my work. She said—” His brow furrows. “She said if I made this one speech, I could have you back. My work would be protected. There were more cameras than I expected. I didn’t feel well.”
I touch his cheek, and my dad closes his eyes.
“Caroline made it impossible to refuse that speech. But everything I said was real. Even if she forced me to say it. I want you to come home. I want you to be safe and happy. I want—” He closes his eyes again. “I just want you where I can see you. I know you’ll be out in the world soon enough, but it doesn’t have to—” His eyebrows lift like he’s trying to stay awake, but he doesn’t look at me. “Not quite yet. Not yet.”
My dad’s breathing evens out.
I ease myself off the bed and fold myself into a hard plastic chair nearby.
“Miss Constantine?”
“Yeah?” I watch my dad’s chest rise and fall under the hospital gown and scratchy sheet.
“Could we speak in the hall?”
“Of course.” I leave my coat on the chair and follow her out. This is a different nurse from before. One with green scrubs and a clipboard. She has dark hair and kind eyes.
“I wanted to talk with you about your father’s situation. The doctor can go over things with you in more detail in an hour or two, but I like people to have their bearings.”
I’m not going to have my bearings for a long time. Maybe forever. I feel perpetually off-balance, like my head is swinging heavily toward the walls, a different direction every time I move my eyes. My heart keeps searching for Leo. He’s not here, and he’s not going to be. I can’t go back.
And I can’t think about that now.
“Thank you,” I tell the nurse.
“You’re welcome.” She pats my elbow, then flips over the page on her notebook. “Your father has suffered a major heart attack involving at least two arteries. The surgeon can tell you more about the procedure in the morning, but for tonight we’re focused on keeping him stable. The event sapped a lot of his strength, so after the surgery, he’ll require a lot of assistance to recover. First steps, we stabilize his condition for the surgery. We have all the signatures we need to go forward with that, but we can’t help you with funding for in-home care.”
“Signatures?” My brain hangs up on that word. My dad is one person.
She flips another page and scans down it. “Your father is currently in a gap in his insurance coverage. There’s a chance you can apply for reimbursement after the fact, but hospital admin won’t let us proceed with the surgery without a funding agreement. It’s so lucky that his sister was here when he arrived.”
“That was my aunt. She’s his sister-in-law.”
“She’s a good one.” The nurse shakes her head, her eyes going wide and sympathetic. “It takes a little finessing with the paperwork, and we have to check for her approval at several points along the way, but your father’s surgery and care here will be paid for.” She leans in and studies my face. “Are you all right, Miss Constantine?”
“I’m—” Dying. I’m dying. “I should call my siblings. Is there anything else I need to know?”
“Not for now. Go make your calls.”
Another plastic chair waits outside the door to my father’s hospital room. I lean in to check on him before I dial Petra.
He’s asleep, but it’s a restless sleep. His hand is up on his chest. Every so often, it flutters up and comes back down again. I can’t watch for very long, or else I’ll cry, and I have to hold it together.
I sink down onto the rigid plastic and dial Petra’s number with my hand over my eyes. She answers on the first ring. “Hey, Hales. What’s up?”
“Hey, listen.”
That’s all I manage before the sobs get the better of me. The more I try to keep them quiet, the worse they sound. Petra makes a bunch of soothing noises over the phone, but I can tell she’s freaked out. I would be, too. I feel like I’m swallowing broken glass but I do it until I can speak.
“So.” I wipe my whole sleeve over my eyes. “Dad had a heart attack.”
Petra drops her phone. It thunks against her kitchen counter and there’s a static sound as she grabs it back up. “Is he okay?”