Page 69 of Ten Christmases Without You
I need him more than you do, Mom.Emmy sent the message up to the heavens, hoping it would reach her.
Later that night, Mitchell called to check in. His call meant a lot, considering it was the final night of the Fashion Innovation Conference.
Emmy closed herself off in Jack’s home office and told him all she knew about her dad’s prognosis. It was the first time they’d talked about her personal life. The year had been so busy that they hadn’t had time for anything other than instruction.
“I’ll call you again tomorrow after we’ve both gotten some sleep,” he said.
“Okay. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Oh, and Emmy? Your taffeta Brilliance Nocturne piece got a standing ovation.”
Emmy gasped. She’d been so immersed in her family’s needs that the show already seemed like a distant memory.
“You did good, kid. I see a bright future in design for you.”
“Thank you.” She’d never been told anything like that before, and she had to wonder if it was because she was doing what she was built to do.
“I hope you like New York. You’re not going anywhere.”
“That means a lot, Mitch.” That was incredible praise, but she couldn’t really celebrate it until she knew her dad would be all right. Her success paled in comparison to what she was dealing with right now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Emmy rose before the sun, her mind still full from last night. Her thoughts kicked in the moment she’d gained any semblance of consciousness. Had her dad woken up in the night to find himself in an empty room? Should she have stayed with him in case he did? He was in a precarious state, and she’d heard of people slipping into death once they were alone. She sent up a prayer that God would keep him breathing long enough for her to get back to him, and if it was in God’s will to take him, to at least let him have one final Christmas.
She opened her stinging eyes. It was still dark outside. A click of her phone told her it was 5:30 in the morning. A chill slithered up her legs when she pushed the covers off and stood, her bare feet freezing against the hardwood in the guestroom. Her other family members had canceled their New York accommodations and found a couple of hotel rooms in Richmond. Madison offered for Emmy to stay with her and Jack.
She padded downstairs and tiptoed into the kitchen, but the hearty scent of brewed coffee told her she wasn’t the only one awake.
Madison was already at the kitchen table, facing the back window, a mug in her hand. She turned around when Emmy entered.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” Emmy asked.
“No.” Madison gestured toward the coffee maker. “Want some?”
“Absolutely.”
Emmy went over to the cupboard and pulled out a mug. She filled it with the warm liquid and added some sugar.
“I wasn’t planning on everyone being here. In fact, we’d already eaten all the food to empty the fridge, because we were supposed to be in New York. I need to get groceries at some point.”
“Yeah,” Emmy said, worry for her dad burying the monotony of her sister’s observation. “What time do visiting hours start at the hospital?” Milky-brown liquid pooled in a spoon sitting on the counter, so Emmy used it to stir her coffee.
“Eight a.m. to Eight p.m.”
Emmy took her mug to the table and sat down next to her sister.
Eight a.m.Two and a half hours seemed like a lifetime. She wanted to get back to her dad and see how he was doing. No news was good news, right?
“I’m so sorry we missed your show,” Madison said.
“Don’t be worried about that in the slightest.”
“Ihavebeen worried about it. So much. I know how hard you worked.” She twisted around. “Have you stopped to consider what you’ve accomplished?”
Emmy pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them, and put her feet on the chair. “What do you mean?”
“The PR job Vivienne gave you was a waste of time. You and I both know that. Then, you were a waitress and a barista—neither of which were jobs that showcased your specific talent.So the first time you’ve been able to use your God-given skills, in a single year, you made it to New York’s Fashion Innovation Conference. Holy cow, Emmy.”
