Page 60 of Before I Tell You

My eyes flutter open, but when I begin to remember where I am, I sit up in a panic.

The hospital.

A rush of raw emotions floods over me as I look over to where my dad was sleeping last night.

He’s awake.

My dad is awake.

My eyes get misty. He’s sitting upright in the bed, fixated on the TV in front of him.

“Dad!” I shove Jason’s massive legs out of the way and get up from the couch. Gently, I wrap my arms around my dad, scared I might hurt him if I squeeze too tightly.

“Well, good morning, sweetheart,” he responds after turning the TV off and reciprocating the hug. “I’m surprised you could even sleep through Jason’s snoring.” We laugh a little, but then I immediately turn the conversation back to him.

“How are you feeling? I was so worried last night when mom called me. I got here as soon as I could.” I look around at all the monitors and wires still surrounding him, beeping reliably. It’s almost like they are trying to reassure me everything is ok.

“Oh, I’m fine. These things happen at my age. It’s no big deal,” he says calmly.

“Dad, a heart attack is a big deal. Even a minor one.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere. Not today,” he says as he takes my hand in his. “But I am very glad that you’re here. It means a lot to me.” His eyes begin to water, which prompts my avalanche of tears. “Aww, come here, kid. You know I can’t stand to see you cry.” He holds out his arms wide for me.

“I can’t help it,” I say through a sob as I welcomingly let his arms wrap around me again. But this time, he holds on to me a little bit longer.

“You know, when you were a little girl, I could always get you to stop crying with a visit to the ice cream shop downtown. How about we make an ice cream date after I get out of here? Just the two of us. Would you like that?”

“I’d like that a lot.” I wipe the tears from my eyes and allow a small smile to form.

“See, look at that. Even just the promise of ice cream makes you stop crying,” he notes with a hint of laughter.

“Blame mom. She’s the one I got my sweet tooth from.” We both laugh in unison with equally watery eyes. “I love you, dad.”

“I love you, Natalie.”

The door to the room swings open, and my mom walks in humming a tune I don’t recognize but stops when she sees us. She’s balancing a tray of coffee cups in one hand and a glass of water in her other hand. “Oh, good morning, Natalie! Did you sleep ok?” She places the tray on the little table by the window.

I comb my hair out with my fingers and use a napkin to wipe away at the mascara stains under my eyes. “Oh, you know, as good as one can sleep on a tiny couch with their giant brother hogging the only blanket.” This makes my parents chuckle, and we all glance over at Jason, who is still sleeping soundly. God, this guy can sleep through anything. Actually, no. That’s not true. There is one sound that always manages to wake Jason up. Me. Or, more precisely, the screams of terror I let out in my sleep when my nightmares feel too real. It’s always Jason running to my rescue on these nights. I guess I never realized that not only do these nightmares have a hold over me, but they have a hold over Jason as well, which suddenly makes me feel guilty.

My mom hands me one of the cups of coffee and my dad the glass of water. He makes a humph noise, which my mom ignores.

“Thanks,” I say before taking a sip. She can probably tell how much I need some caffeine right now.

My mom looks solemnly at my dad. “So dear, the doctor says he would like to keep you here for another night or two for observation and a few more tests.”

My dad rolls his eyes. “But I’m fine!”

“Robert, you may think you are, but your body is telling you otherwise.” I can see her eyes glisten as she holds her tears in, trying not to show her true feelings. Trying to stay brave for all of us. “There are some changes we need to make when we return home. I have a nutritionist and personal trainer scheduled for immediate appointments this week. And I will not be hearing any complaints about it,” she states with one hand on her hip while the other hand brings a cup of coffee to her lips.

My dad looks like he is going to put up a fight, but then with one look at my mom, he immediately decides against it, lets out a frustrated sigh, and drops his shoulders. “Alright. Let’s talk about something else.” His eyes turn to me. “So, Natalie, what time did you end up getting here last night?” He takes a big gulp of his water and then puts it beside him as he waits for my answer.

My mom looks down at her coffee, avoiding all eye contact with me.

“Umm, I don’t actually remember. It was pretty late. You were sleeping when I got here.” I walk back to the couch to sit down and put my shoes on. Did someone turn the heat up on the thermostat?

“Hmm …” I can tell he is finally noticing the outfit that I have on. “And may I ask how you got here last night?” He looks over at my mom who is now pretending to wipe something off her blue blouse.

“Oh, umm …” I can’t lie to him after everything that just happened to him, so against my better judgment, I tell him the truth. “Nathan Thomas drove me here,” I blurt out. I take longer than necessary to put my shoes on, avoiding my dad’s gaze. When I finish, my fingers unconsciously reach for a piece of my hair to twirl as I nervously wait for his reaction.

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