“No, I think the purpose is to share the space. That’s what moving in together means.”
The waitress arrives with the check, and I give her my card before she can walk away.
Once I’ve paid, and we’re in my truck, I take Izzy’s hand and kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“Moving in with me. Have you already forgotten?”
She’s laughing again, and the sound makes my heart happy. “You don’t have to thank me for that. Thank you for sharing your space.”
“Our space.”
She nods, and I pull in behind her little convertible at Maggie’s.
“I’ll be over in an hour or two. I’m not sure how long it’ll take me to pack.”
“Let me know if you need any help.”
She leans over the center console for a quick kiss, and then she’s out of the truck and walking up to the front door. Halfway there, she stops and blows me a kiss.
I’m going to marry her. Have wee babies with her, and build a home with her.
Maybe not in that order.
Now that she’s in my life, I have no intention of ever letting her go.
The drive to the pub only takes five minutes. I hurry in through the back door, but before I climb the stairs to the flat, something tells me to go check on the kitchen.
It’s just a feeling, a niggle at the back of my head, and I learned long ago to listen to feelings like that.
I push through the door of the kitchen and stop cold.
“Ma.” I rush to my mother, who’s doubled over and bracing herself on the counter. “What’s wrong, Ma?”
“My chest,” she groans. “And arm. My jaw. I don’t know what to do.”
I brace her in my arms as I pull my phone out of my pocket and immediately call 911.
“Emergency Services, what is your emergency?”
“I think my mother’s having a heart attack. I need an ambulance straight away.” I rattle off the address of the pub. “We’re back in the kitchen. The front door is locked, but the back door is open.”
“I’m dispatching now. Is she conscious?”
“Yes.” I describe what she looks like—gray and sweaty, with shortness of breath. My heart is in my throat as I end the call with 911 and immediately dial Maeve’s number.
“Hey,” she says in greeting.
“Get Da and meet us at the hospital. My guess is we’ll go to Seattle, but I don’t know yet.”
“What? What’s happening?”
“Ma’s having a heart attack.” I guide her to a chair and help her down. “Ambulance is on the way. I can hear the sirens now.”
“I hear them, too. Should we come to the pub?”
“I don’t think you’ll make it here in time.”
I hear Maeve running through her house. “I can’t find Da. Are you sure he’s not at the pub?”
“I’m fucking sure, Maeve. I have to go.”
I hang up as four EMTs hurry into the kitchen with a gurney and a whole host of equipment I know nothing about.
They nudge me out of the way as they immediately hook Ma up to machines that start to beep and flash.
“Definite heart attack,” one of them says. “Let’s load her up. We’re flying her to Seattle General. We’ll have her there in twenty minutes.”
“I’m going with you.”
Ma’s eyes are closed, and she’s wheezing as she struggles to breathe. We’re loaded into the ambulance and rushed to a helipad where a helicopter is already running and ready for us. After we’re transferred into the aircraft and strapped in, I put my headphones on to talk to the staff and then shoot off a group text to all of my siblings.
Me: Ma and I are in a helicopter on our way to Seattle General. Heart attack. Please come right away.
I hit send and reach out for her hand. I can’t hear what she’s saying because she’s not wearing a headset, but I can read her lips.
Where’s Tommy?
I lean down so I can talk into her ear.
“We’re going to the hospital in Seattle, Mama. Da and the others are on their way. You’re going to be okay.”
Please, God, let her be okay.
I’ve never been so scared in my life as the helicopter touches down on the roof of the hospital, and we’re rushed inside and down to the emergency department.
“Fiona O’Callaghan,” someone yells. “Female, sixty-two. Chest pain, left arm pain, and jaw pain.”
“Got it,” someone else yells as Ma is wheeled back to a room. I stand back and watch as a flurry of people surround her and immediately hook her up to an IV and all kinds of monitors.
“Pulse is one eighty-one.”
“We need to get that down.”
I approach her from the side, hoping to help calm her. “Ma. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
I take her hand once more, and she looks over at me with wide eyes. “I want Tommy.”
“I know, and he’s coming.” I want him, too. “For now, these people are going to help you. And I’m right beside you. I won’t budge. You know how stubborn I am.”