Looking Inside

“I know I’ve told you how much I value honesty,” he said after a pause wherein her stomach had started to grow fluttery with anxiety about what he’d say next. “And that hasn’t changed. The thing of it is . . .”

“What?” she asked breathlessly when he faded off, as if he was trying to find the right words.

“Telling me that you’re some kind of sales executive instead of a preservation librarian at the museum . . . well, that’s not really the kind of lie that I’m concerned about.” His face looked serious, but she thought she saw a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. He glanced up at the cabdriver, but the partition was muffling the radio he had playing. There was little chance he could hear their conversation. “We agreed from the beginning this was only going to be a physical relationship, so I can’t really blame you for trying to put on a sexy show for me, can I?” Her heart palpitated in her chest at the word show. Did he realize she was playacting at being sexy? “You didn’t know me well enough at first to guess that I think your real job is a hell of a lot more interesting—and sexy, for that matter—than your made-up job description.”

Her breath stuck in her lungs when he started to lean toward her, a lean, hungry look on his shadowed face. She jumped when her cell phone buzzed loudly in her coat pocket at the same time the cab pulled into her building’s turnabout. She gave Trey an amused, apologetic glance and dug in her coat pocket for her cell phone, while he paid the driver.

He’d gotten out and was holding open the door for her while she read the text she’d just received. It was from her mom.

Come to the Evanston Hospital ER as soon as you can. Your father has had a heart attack.

Shivers poured through her body.

“Eleanor?” she heard Trey say, but it was like he spoke through insulation. She blinked in disorientation, looking up at him. The stark vision of him made reality jerk into place with the seeming force of a snapped whip.

“It’s my dad. He’s had a heart attack,” she said numbly.

He pulled her out of the cab and slammed the door. He took her phone from her. She stared at his rigid features while he read the text. He handed her back the phone and took her free hand in his. “Come on. You call your mom and find out what’s going on.”

She started to dial, but as she did so, a call from her mother came through.

“Mom? What’s happening?” Eleanor asked as Trey pulled her along the sidewalk.

She listened as her mom shakily described her dad falling in the hallway on the way to the bathroom. An ambulance had come, and her dad had been conscious, but very groggy when they took him. Her mom had followed the ambulance in her car.

“The EMT said it was a heart attack. Now I’m just waiting to hear about the lab results,” her mother said anxiously. “Why is this happening? It’s too much—”

“It’s not the same thing, Mom. Dad’s going to be okay,” Eleanor soothed, knowing her mom was flashing back to Caddy’s sudden illness and hospitalizations. Eleanor wouldn’t allow her brain to go there. “I’ll get in my car right now and be at the hospital within the hour. Just text me where to go once I get there. And Mom, call Dr. Chevitz to let him know what happened,” she said, referring to their longtime family doctor. “He might even be on call and can meet us at the ER. Okay? I’ll call—” She caught herself, startled. She’d been about to say she’d call Caddy. That hole opened up alarmingly wide, gaping in her chest when she realized the utter impossibility of reaching her sister at that moment.

“I’ll call Aunt Joan and let her know what’s happened,” she covered her near mistake, referring to her dad’s sister who lived near Milwaukee. “I’ll see you soon. Everything’s going to be okay,” she repeated firmly.

She hung up the phone. She blinked in disorientation when she looked around, not recognizing where Trey had led her. They were in a parking garage, but it wasn’t hers. Everything looked hazy and weird, until Trey turned and looked over his shoulder. His sharp blue eyes pierced her fog.

“Where are we?” she asked. “I’ve got to get to the—”

“We’re going to my car. I’ll take you to the hospital,” he said.

“I can drive. You don’t have to go,” she called out to him, but he kept walking rapidly ahead of her, his hand still grasping hers. Eleanor was too worried to try and stop him. “My mom is freaking out,” she said as he led her to a dark blue, sleek sedan. He opened the door for her.

“Has your dad had problems with his heart before?”

She sat. He extended the seatbelt and waited until she took it from him. She stared at the metal clasp as if she were seeing the device for the first time in her life. “No, he’s always been pretty healthy. I thought he didn’t look well over Thanksgiving, though. I should have pushed him to see his doctor then.” Fear rippled through her, cutting through her dazed shock. The thought of her father lying crumpled and helpless in the hallway overwhelmed her. What was going to happen?

“Oh God,” she gasped, panic rising up in her like a wave that was about to smother her last breath.

She blinked when Trey’s hand grasped her shoulder. She stared up at him, her mouth hanging open.

“One step at a time,” he said firmly. “Put your seatbelt on, Eleanor.”

Her head cleared. She inhaled shakily and nodded, thankful for his touch. His presence. It anchored her.

The trip to the hospital passed in an anxious haze. Her brain seemed sluggish. Numb. It was as if some kind of automatic shutoff had occurred inside her. She didn’t want to think of what it would be like if they lost her dad. So her mind just went blank.

—

A half hour later, Trey pulled his car directly up to the ER entrance. “You go on in while I look for parking,” he directed.

“You don’t have to come in. I can take the L home.”