“Ruby and I have had an amazing life together, and I can only hope that…”
Ruby touches his forearm.
Ryan looks out into the crowd, but he seems to be seeing something else. “My brothers stood beside me in the backyard of this very house. I wore a black suit, no tie, and Talon and Joe both wore blue-gray. The weather cooperated beautifully for November. The orange and gold colors of fall surrounded us, and the temperature was a balmy sixty-two. Ground had already been broken for Ruby’s and my house. It was Thanksgiving Day, and Ruby and I thought it was a perfect day to exchange our vows and begin our life as husband and wife. We had so much to be thankful for. Then Dale and Donny…” He trails off for a moment, and Ruby grabs his hand.
“They had put on a little weight and wore suits matching Talon’s and Joe’s—which I didn’t realize were so uncomfortable, Don.”
Laughter.
“Melanie was pregnant with Brad, and Jade had just found out she was pregnant with Diana. Ruby’s mother, Diamond, was there, wearing a soft-pink dress. A string quartet played. Marjorie wore light blue, Jade a shade darker, and Melanie darker yet. Melanie, my wife’s best friend and her matron of honor. And I’ll never forget”—he gazes at his wife—“the sight of you as you walked toward me in dark-blue silk.” He smiles. “I expected white, but you surprised me that day. Your skirt billowed in the soft breeze. Your hair was darker then, and you wore it swept up. And your arm sparkled. You wore the sapphire bracelet—”
The microphone drops to the ground with a thud that reverberates from the sound system.
Ruby tugs on his arm. “Ryan, are you all right?”
Ryan says something, but I can’t hear what it is.
Ava rises and runs up to the stage. I follow her.
Talon and Joe are at Ryan’s side. Another few seconds pass, and they’re helping him off his feet.
“Daddy,” Ava says, her voice catching, “what’s the matter? Are you all right?”
Then Ryan finally speaks.
“Hospital,” he rasps. “I need to go to the hospital.”
Chapter Eleven
Ava
“I don’t understand,” my sister whines. “He’s not even sixty years old. And he’s in perfect health. What’s going on?”
I gasp in a breath. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
Brendan sits next to me in the emergency room waiting area, holding my hand. “I’m sure we’ll have news soon,” he says. “Your mom is back there with him.”
The rest of the family stayed at Uncle Talon and Aunt Jade’s home to see to our guests. Only Mom, Gina, Brendan, and I came to the hospital with Dad. Brendan, God love him, drove us all in Dad’s truck. Mom, Gina, and I were in no condition to drive, and we knew that waiting for an ambulance would take longer than if we just drove into Grand Junction ourselves.
All that time I was so scared my mother was ill. It was my father. My father is ill, and somehow I feel I should’ve known.
He’s fifty-eight years old, my father, and he doesn’t look a day over forty. He eats a lot of beef, of course, but it’s grass-fed Steel beef, which is lower in saturated fat. He drinks wine, but never to excess. Plus he takes care of himself. He works out, stays lean. In fact, his body hasn’t changed in the twenty-four years I’ve been alive. No beer belly on Ryan Steel. Only hard and solid muscle.
I wish I had my tarot deck. I need some guidance now. All I can see in my mind is that damned tower card. Is this what it was warning me of?
Perhaps. But my intuition says no. My intuition says this isn’t related.
But how can it not be? For the first time since I began practicing the tarot, I doubt my interpretation and intuitive skills.
How could I have missed this?
The tower.
This was its warning. My father is ill.
Perhaps Darth Morgen doesn’t mean grandmother. Perhaps it’s something else that I haven’t figured out yet.
I need to ask my mother. I promised everyone I would wait until after the party, but now the party has been ruined.
And honestly? I don’t give a rat’s ass about the party. I don’t give a rat’s ass about those messages. I don’t give a rat’s ass about anything except my father right now.
I can’t lose my father.
I need him. I need his strength, and I need his compassion.
Brendan squeezes my hand. “It’s going to be okay, baby.”
I don’t reply. I appreciate his optimism, but I don’t share it. I’ve known something devastating was coming. Something involving my family.
I just didn’t expect it to take my father with it.
An hour has passed.
And nothing. Nothing from any doctors or nurses or even my mother.
Finally I rise, disengaging my hand from Brendan’s. “I can’t stand this. I’m going to go see what’s going on.”
“Honey,” Brendan says, “they’ll tell us when they know anything.”
I curl my hands into fists. “Damn it, Brendan. That’s not good enough. I want to know what’s going on. Now.”
Gina rises then. “Me too. He’s our father, for God’s sake!”
“All right, all right.” Brendan rises. “You two sit down. I’ll see if I can find anything out.”
I plunk my ass back down, and so does Gina.
Fine. Brendan will find out.
But he returns a moment later. “There’s nothing new, and even if there were, they wouldn’t tell me anyway. I’m not a family member.”
“Fine.” I rise again. “I’ll find out.”
I walk briskly to reception. “I’m Ava Steel. My father, Ryan Steel, has been back there for over an hour. I’d like an update, please.”
“I just told your friend that I don’t have an update,” the receptionist says. “I’m sorry, but that’s the best I can do. When there’s news, someone will be out to tell you.”
I tap my foot on the tile floor, my army boot making a clomping noise. “I want to talk to my mother. She’s back there with him.”
“We can only allow one person back in the ER with the patient. I’m sorry, but that’s all I can tell you.”
“Damn it.” I bring my fist down on the counter. “That’s just not good enough.”
Brendan is beside me then, his arms around my shoulders. “Come on, baby. She’s just doing her job.”
“I don’t care. Doesn’t anyone understand that this is my father? This is my father, who’s celebrating his twenty-fifth anniversary today. My father!” Tears well in my eyes.
“Baby,” Brendan soothes, “come on. We all know how much he means to you. I’m sure there will be news soon. But until then, you need to keep a positive attitude.”
“There’s nothing positive about any of this. Ever since I drew that tower card, I’ve known this was coming. I just didn’t expect it to be my father.”
He takes my hand again, rubs his fingers into my palm.
I know what he’s doing.
He’s placating me. He doesn’t believe in the tarot. He’s trying to relax me so that I’ll forget about that card.