I didn’t hate my father; I just wished our relationship was different. Plus, my parents had been married for over thirty years. If one of them was gone, I wasn’t sure the other would survive.
My mother drew in a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She was a strong believer in maintaining a stiff upper lip, and her tears visibly subsided as she locked down her emotions again.
“You’re right. He’ll be okay,” she said. “Of course he will. He’s already out of the woods. The doctor said they’re keeping him for monitoring just in case, but he should be home within a day or two.” She sniffled and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Forgive me. I don’t know what came over me, crying in public like that. My Lord.”
Now that she was in control once more, she realized we weren’t alone. She glanced past me at Scarlett, who stood a respectful distance away. Surprise flashed across her face before her earlier weepiness morphed into intrigue.
“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said. “I’m Pippa, Asher’s mum.”
“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m Scarlett, Asher’s friend,” Scarlett said politely.
“Please, call me Pippa. I can’t stand being called ma’am. Reminds me of my mum, and no one wants that.” My mother shuddered before she examined Scarlett with an eagle eye.
Uh-oh. I recognized that look. That was her my-baby-boy-is-almost-thirty-and-still-hasn’t-given-me-grandchildren-so-I’m-going-to-play-matchmaker-whenever-I-can look.
I almost would’ve preferred she continued to sob.
“Why don’t we look for—”
“Thank you for coming with Asher,” my mother said, interrupting my attempt to steer us toward another topic. “That’s very kind of you.”
“It’s no trouble at all. That’s what friends are for.”
“Indeed. Were you with him when he got the news?”
“Um…” Scarlett’s smile faltered while I suppressed a grimace. There was only one realistic reason why we’d be together this early on a Saturday morning, but neither of us wanted to confirm it for my mother, of all people.“Yes. We were having breakfast.”
Almost true, since we’d finished breakfast by the time I got the call.
“I see.” My mother pounced on that tidbit of information like a starving lioness on prey. “Quite early for breakfast on a weekend. Quite a long drive from London to Holchester too.”
She cast a pointed look at my outfit. I was wearing the same dress shirt and trousers from last night’s date while Scarlett was in a T-shirt and jeans. A toddler could’ve put this two and two together.
“We’re both morning people,” Scarlett said, her voice bright. “And the drive wasn’t too bad. The roads aren’t busy this time of day.”
We avoided looking at each other so we didn’t simultaneously combust from the awkwardness. Her cheeks were dark red, and I imagined mine were a similar shade.
“I suppose not.” My mother didn’t sound convinced. “Now I hope you’ll forgive me for being blunt…”
Oh, fuck.
“But how long have you and Asher been friends?” My mother managed to place the verbal equivalent of air quotes around the word friends without changing her tone. “Because, you know, it’s quite difficult for him to meet women he’s actually interested in. He’s never brought anyone home before.”
“Technically, we’re not—”
She cut me off again. “He’s surrounded by testosterone every day, all day. I tell him, Asher, dear, it’s time to meet a nice girl and settle down. You won’t be a spring chicken forever, and I want to hold my grandbabies before I die. Does he listen? No.” She clucked her tongue. “So you can imagine how delighted I am that you’re here. Tell me, how did you meet Asher? Do you have a boyfriend? Are you interested in children anytime soon?”
Scarlett gaped at her, her eyes wide.
“Mother!” I finally interjected. “Please. Now is not the time or place for this.”
Trust her to interrogate us about my love life in a hospital waiting room, hours after my father had a heart attack. No one compartmentalized their feelings better than Pippa Donovan.
“That’s what you’ve said for the past five years,” she retorted. “I’m simply making conversation. Scarlett doesn’t mind, do you, dear?”
“Is Dad awake?” I switched subjects before Scarlett was forced to answer. “I’d like to see him.”
“Yes.” My mother’s face sobered. “The doctors said he was lucky. It was a mild heart attack, and he regained consciousness soon after we arrived at the hospital. They’re running tests on him now, but you should be able to see him.”
“You go,” Scarlett said when I glanced at her. “I’ll stay with your mother.”
If my mother hadn’t been picturing her as her future daughter-in-law before, she sure was now. I could practically see stars pop up in her eyes as she envisioned what her future grandbabies would look like.
I didn’t want to leave Scarlett alone with her—god knew what questions she’d ask when I left the room—but it would be awkward to bring Scarlett into my father’s hospital room when they’d never met.
I cast an apologetic glance at Scarlett, who gave me a reassuring nod.
Luckily, I tracked down a nurse quickly, and after a bit of back and forth, they let me in to see him.
My father’s room was halfway down the hall from where my mother had been sitting. He had his eyes closed when I entered, but he opened them at the sound of the door clicking shut. Tubes snaked around his torso, and a nearby monitor beeped with a steady rhythm.
Relief loosened the fist around my chest at the sound of those beeps.
He was alive.
My mother had said as much, but I’d needed to see it for myself.
“That was fast,” he said as I came up beside him. His voice was a hoarse shadow of its usual boom.
