Page 65 of Before You Go

Thank God. I sag in relief.

“I found it.” Mom stumbles over her own feet as she runs back into the kitchen. “I’m okay,” she assures us as she rights herself, looking between me, Dad, and Dayton, who is trying to take over my spot under Dad’s arm. “Why are you moving him?”

“I think he’d be more comfortable on the couch.”

“I think he should stay where he is. He shouldn’t move around.” She opens the bottle she’s holding and shakes out one aspirin. “Chew this up,” she orders.

“Give me some water,” Dad tells her, but she shakes her head.

“No, chew it up. It will work faster.” She juts her hand toward him to urge him to take from her.

My dad rolls his eyes. “I’m not chewing it up, hon?—”

“Chew up the fucking pill!” she shrieks, and my eyes widen.

My mom never curses. Or yells. Ever.

“Okay, honey. I’ll chew it up,” Dad agrees, using a tone he’s always reserved for calming her when she’s overwhelmed. He takes the pill from her and puts it in his mouth.

“Where is the ambulance?” Mom asks Dayton.

“How far out are you guys?” he asks whoever is on the phone, then looks at Mom. “They’re about five minutes away.”

“Jacob, go wait out front to let them in,” Mom tells him, and when I look over, he’s still frozen in horror.

“I’ll get them,” Dayton says, leaving the kitchen.

“I’m going to be okay, honey. Just calm down,” Dad tells Mom, taking her hand, and seeing the contrast in their complexion, I stop to take a breath.

I’ve heard people described as turning gray when they’re sick, but seeing it happen to my dad, I know whatever is going on inside him isn’t good.

“You better be.” Mom leans into him.

“I’m sorry, Dad.” I lean into his other side and wrap my arms around him.

“This isn’t your fault.” He kisses my head, and tears fill my eyes.

He’s wrong. My news was the catalyst for whatever is happening with him right now.

It feels like forever before Dayton walks back in with three EMTs, but mere minutes after they arrive, Dad is on a stretcher being wheeled out of the house, with Mom clinging to his side.

“We’ll meet you at the hospital,” I say as we follow them down the front steps to the open back doors of the ambulance.

“Okay, honey.” Mom barely spares me a glance as she climbs into the back with Dad.

With my heart in my throat, I watch the doors close and feel Dayton wrap his arm around my waist.

“Let’s go grab whatever your mom might need, baby.” He turns me toward the house as the ambulance takes off with the lights on top of it flashing.

I leave him in the foyer when we get inside and run upstairs to my parents’ bedroom, grabbing Mom’s purse along with a sweatshirt for her out of her closet, since all she had on is a tank top and shorts when she left. When I get back to the kitchen a minute later, I find Dayton talking quietly to Jacob, who hasn’t moved from his spot at the island.

“Ready, baby?” Dayton asks a moment later, and I nod at him, then focus on my brother again.

“You’re coming to the hospital, right?”

“Yeah.” Jacob gathers himself enough to follow Dayton and me outside to the SUV.

No one says a word on the way to the hospital, but that doesn’t mean I don’t spend the whole ride praying to whoever will listen.

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