When I’m within arm’s reach, he grabs me. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s your dad,” I say frantically, pulling him across the room. “I think he’s having a heart attack.”
25
Lincoln
“Quit pacing, I’m fine.”
Oxygen hisses from the nasal cannula when Dad pulls it from his nose. “I hate this shit. I don’t need any goddamn oxygen.”
“You’re not fine. You had a heart attack. The doctor says you need the oxygen, so put the damn tubing back into your nose.”
“It itches.”
“So scratch and put it back.”
Adley snickers from her chair on the other side of my father’s bed.
“What are you laughing at?” Dad asks, trying not to smile as he scowls at her.
He fails miserably, probably because she’s so darn cute, and she was his angel today. If it weren’t for her quick action, I’m not sure my dad would still be here.
“Come here,” I say, motioning her over with a crook of my finger.
She walks around the small room, stops alongside of me, and brushes a strand of hair from my face. “I’m here.”
“Thank you.” Taking her hand, I pull her onto my lap. Her cheeks turn red, and she tries to look at my father, but I don’t let her. With a hand to her chin, I keep her eyes on me.
“For what?” she asks.
“For saving my pathetic fucking life,” Dad grumbles.
Adley rolls her head to the side and pins Dad with a firm glare. “You need to stay calm. When you get riled up, it raises your blood pressure.”
“I am calm,” he states.
“You’re pissy,” she answers.
“That’s because I’m hungry, and I’m sick of these damn tubes.” He messes with the one in his nose again before tugging on the IV in his arm.
“How can you be hungry? You ate all the cookies at the party,” Adley says, laughing.
“That was five hours ago,” he replies.
“I think I can solve the hungry part,” Chloe says, walking in with a tray in her hands. “It isn’t much, but it’ll hold you over until after the procedure.”
Dad frowns. “What procedure?”
Chloe puts the tray on the bedside table and situates it in front of him. “The cardiac cath, remember? The doctor came in and explained it earlier.”
“Oh yeah,” he mumbles, lifting the cover from his plate. “Jell-O. That’s it? I don’t even like Jell-O. What kind of goddamn hellhole is this place?”
“Calm down,” Adley says, turning on my lap so she can face my dad. “It’s precautionary. They can’t have your stomach full of food when they take you down for the cardiac cath.”
“I got you some broth too,” Chloe says, lifting the cover from a small bowl.
“I don’t want broth,” he huffs, pushing the bedside table away. “What a crock of shit. Just take me home,” he says, looking at me. “I don’t need to have a procedure.”