Page 92 of To Belong Together
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The man who’d called had instructed John to get Erin to the hospital immediately.
So she could say goodbye.
Robert had driven down a path not meant for cars in a forest picnic area. He’d gotten out and fallen. The caller said the one small grace seemed to be that, among his injuries, he’d hit his head, rendering him unconscious to the pain and passage of time.
John doubted Erin would find that comforting, so he hadn’t relayed the speculation.
How he’d hated to be the one to break the news to her. Hated that he’d forever be associated with the loss of her dad. Though she’d built some pretty tall walls between them, he’d taken her hands. To comfort her. To give her something to hold onto as she took the information in.
She’d responded better than he’d expected.
She hadn’t cried when he’d relayed the message. Her call to her mom had been quick, relief so evident in her voice he’d wondered if he’d done a poor job communicating the seriousness of Robert’s condition. Erin had hung up, buckled in, and said they could go straight there. A friend was driving her mom.
With that, he’d sped to the hospital. Erin still hadn’t shed a tear when the orderly led her away to be reunited with her dad.
He’d spent the last couple of hours waiting and praying for a miracle.
Unfortunately, he’d been smoked out of the ER waiting room. Because of Awestruck’s involvement in the search, news outlets had picked up the story. The first reporter had shown up outside the hospital not long after John and Erin. The first fans, shortly after that. Someone from hospital management moved John to an exam room in the ER, where only Erin and hospital staff could get to him.
Not that Erin had left her father’s side—and John wouldn’t have it any other way, even if it did mean waiting there alone.
The curtain swayed as the sliding glass door behind it rolled open.
John stood, trying to plan what to say to Erin if Robert had slipped away.
He’d had hours. Why hadn’t he worked this out sooner?
But instead of Erin, Gannon swished aside the curtain, and Philip stepped in behind him.
As his bandmates shut the barriers again, John resumed his seat. “You guys didn’t have to come.”
“Course we did.” Gannon dropped into the seat next to him and shifted immediately, as if already uncomfortable in the stiff chair. Still, he smirked. “We’ve brought ‘Wreckage’ about as far as we can without you.”
Gannon had mentioned the song as a joke, but for the first time since his accident, playing sounded appealing. Since he hadn’t heard of it before, this was new material, and with a title like that, he guessed it would provide the chance to pound out some of his sadness and frustration.
“Waiting alone in these places is the worst.” Philip surveyed the room, eyes heavy with what had to be dark memories.
John’s sadness for Robert, Ellen, and Erin didn’t compare with Philip’s grief over losing his wife in a place like this.
“You pulled out all the stops to find him. This result has to feel like a failure.” Gannon could use a lesson in sugar-coating.
Philip shot the lead singer a dirty look as he pushed the last chair in the room, a double-wide seat, closer to the two of them and settled in. “I hear there’s a girl.”
The understatement drew a wry chuckle from John. “I’m sure you did.”
By now, the whole nation had.
“Trouble in paradise?” Philip asked.
Gannon grunted. “You call this paradise?”
John weighed how much to share.
Gannon might not have a master’s in the art of subtlety, but he was a strong believer with John’s best interests forever in mind. And Philip, though younger than both of them, had already been married, had two kids, and lost his wife to cancer before joining Awestruck. That made him more of an expert on family—the very thing John wanted so badly—than either of his seniors.
“I think it’s on hold.” At best.
