Page 79 of The Art of Loving Lacy
Dane shook his head.Stop thinking about Lacy. That’s over. Focus on Sheila and Rob.He wiped his eyes with the crook of his elbow.
“Tell me what you need and it’s yours. Don’t worry about finances. I’ve got you covered forever. Rob always knew I would if anything ever happened, but what can I help with? The kids? Anything?” He remembered from when his mother was sick and they didn’t know which way she’d turn the next hour, or day, or week, that there were no words to heal the despair that buried itself in a person’s soul while they waited for a loved one’s body to decide its fate, but knowing Dane was there and willing to do whatever she needed might give her comfort.
She shook her head. “I just want Rob. He’s my best friend, Dane. He’s my life.”
Dane leaned over and kissed Rob’s forehead. He took his healthy cheek in his palm and whispered, “You can pull through this. You’re the strongest man I know. Your run’s not over yet. I love you, man.”
“He knows you do,” Sheila said.
I’m not so sure.
Chapter Thirty
STOP THAT INCESSANT banging!Lacy lay on the bed staring up at the ceiling. She’d been in that position for hours, thinking about Sheila and her children, worried about Rob. She wondered if Rob had had any final thoughts when he was whipped with the tail of the shark as it careered through the water, or if he went from excitement over seeing the stupid thing to nothing. Unconscious. And then her mind traveled back to Dane.It always comes back to him.She wondered for a moment if it was him banging on the door, but that thought disappeared with her next breath. She’d seen the finality in his eyes.
She curled up in a fetal position, praying that whoever was banging would go away. How could she move with a broken heart? The reality of the dangers of Dane’s job were staring her in the face, and they’d apparently hit Dane like a bullet train.He said what I’d been thinking but was too weak to admit. We’re doing the right thing.That didn’t mean she didn’t feel like she’d been run over by a Mack truck.
The banging stopped, and Lacy flipped over to her other side and stared at the curtains. How could the sun be out when Sheila was sitting in a hospital room wondering if her husband would live or die?Oh, no. Rob could die.
“Lacy, open the door!”
Kaylie?Lacy’s body went rigid.
“Lacy! It’s us. Please open the door. Lacy, are you okay?” Danica banged on the window again.
Lacy sat up, wanting to climb through the window and run into her sisters’ arms, but she also wanted to wallow in her pain and sadness. She wanted to feel the pain of losing Dane, if only to help her believe it was true.
“Lacy, it’s us,” Kaylie said. “Please open the door. If you did something stupid like overdose, I’m going to kill you.”
I almost wish you would.
“Kaylie!” Danica chided.
Lacy pushed herself from the bed and peered through the curtains at her sisters’ worried faces. They were staring at each other, whispering something Lacy couldn’t hear. They didn’t notice her. She released the curtains, went out the front door, and listened to them arguing about calling the police. Lacy stepped off the porch and stumbled through the grass. Her legs felt like lead, and she grabbed hold of the side of the cottage to keep from falling over as she reached the side yard.
“Oh my goodness. Lacy, honey, are you okay?” Danica wrapped her arms around her and pulled her against her chest. “I was so worried.”
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Kaylie asked. “We’ve been calling since last night.”
Lacy couldn’t talk. She closed her eyes, hoping that somehow Danica’s body would absorb her own and she would disappear.
“Come on. Let’s go inside,” Danica said.
Lacy felt her sisters guide her into the house and to the couch.
“Lacy, you need to talk to me.” Danica crouched before Lacy, staring into her eyes. “Look at me, Lace.”
Lacy lifted her eyes.
“Good. You need to talk to me, honey. Max called and told us what happened. No one could reach you or Dane. We were worried sick. Please talk to me. Please, Lacy,” Danica urged.
“Rob’s unconscious,” Lacy whispered. “Yesterday morning he was fine. Now he might die,” she said.
“We know, honey,” Danica said.
“Dane said he can’t put me through what Sheila’s going through.” Lacy’s voice was flat, emotionless, and that’s how she felt, like someone had stolen her will to feel anything. She’d gone numb. She was the living dead.
Kaylie brushed Lacy’s hair from her face. “Oh no. We didn’t know that. Oh Lacy, I’m so sorry.”
