Perfect Regret (Bad Rep #2)(33)
Author: A. Meredith Walters

“Mom, you still there?” I asked, more than a little out of breath.

“Riley,” my mother’s broken sob on the other end had my knees buckling underneath me. Shit, this was bad.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s your dad,” was all she said and it felt like my heart had frozen in my chest. My face flushed hot and my fingers went numb.

“Is Dad all right?” I asked stupidly. Of course he wasn’t all right! Why else would my mother be calling me at a quarter till twelve on a Saturday night crying? Get with it, Riley!

My mom took a shuddering breath. “Dad’s in the hospital. He’s had a heart attack,” she said haltingly and I felt my world fade to black. Spots danced in front of my eyes and I found it hard to focus.

“What? A heart attack? That makes no sense! Dad’s so healthy he makes healthy people look bad!” I said, knowing I was bordering on hysterical. But this was every child’s worst nightmare. My dad was an ox. My Mr. T and Arnold Schwarzenegger all mushed together in a peace loving hippie package. He was bigger than life and now my mom was telling me that the man who I had hailed as my own personal hero my entire life was in fact very, very mortal.

“Sure he is but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his vices like everyone else. I’ve been on him to quit eating those damn greasy hamburgers at Sal’s. But he swore he exercised enough and drank his wheat germ tea so he’d be fine. Stupid ass man!” I was so taken aback by my mom’s use of curse words that I didn’t respond immediately. My mother never, and I mean never cussed. This was almost as scary as the fact that my dad was in the hospital.

“Will he…I mean, is he going to…” I couldn’t force myself to finish the statement. I just couldn’t ask my mother whether my dad was going to live or die. Somehow putting it into words would give it power. Making all of this way too real.

My mom took another deep breath, as though trying to collect herself. “I don’t know, Ri. I just don’t know. But you need to get here as soon as possible. I just don’t know…” she stopped talking and I could hear the sound of her quiet sobbing.

My hands were shaking and my palms were wet. The phone slipped out of my hands and when I bent to pick it up another hand reached out to get to it first. I blinked a few times, not understanding why Garrett was outside, stood beside me, with a look on his face that was both bleak and sad.

I took the phone from him and turned my back. I couldn’t deal with him right now. Definitely not right now. “I’m leaving work. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Is Gavin there? What about Fliss?” I asked.

“Yes, Gavin’s with me at the hospital and Felicity will be here in the morning. Sam is staying behind with the girls. He’ll come…later…if he has to…oh God!” My mom started to cry again and I pressed the heel of my hand against my eye so I wouldn’t join her. It would do no good to fall apart. I was the strong one. The one who held everyone else together. I could do this.

“It’s okay, Mom. Dad will be just fine. I’ll be there soon,” I promised, guaranteeing something I wasn’t sure was the truth. Did that make me a liar?

My mom seemed to pull herself together a bit. “Okay, baby girl. But drive carefully. Please,” she ended tiredly. I reassured her I’d be safe and hung up.

I stood there for a long time, staring out into the darkened lot behind Barton’s. I needed to get home. I had to pack. I had to make a bazillion calls letting my professors and my internship and the Barton’s manager, Moore, know that I’d be gone. I didn’t even know how long I’d be home. And just like that my world imploded.

I fell to my knees and smashed my fists into the cold, hard concrete. I let out a deep, guttural yell and felt my body tremble under the stress of the last few minutes. I didn’t cry though. For some strange reason, my tear ducts felt empty and dry.

Arms came around me, strong hands rubbing my arms as I struggled to breathe around the pain in my chest. “Let it out, Riley,” Garrett said softly into my hair as he pressed his cheek against the back of my head.

I held myself rigid in his embrace, not letting myself give into the urge to lose it. Even though he was encouraging me to let him pick up my pieces, I wouldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.

I got to my feet and pulled out from his arms. My hands still shook and I shoved them into my pockets. “Aren’t you supposed to be playing?” I asked, cringing at the way my words wobbled.

Garrett looked at me shrewdly, not put off in the least by my attempts to change the subject. “What happened?” he asked, ignoring my question.

I was tempted to tell him it was none of his business. That he should get back to playing music and pretending like he didn’t care about anything. Because that’s what he was good at after all.

But I didn’t. Perhaps it was the knowing sympathy on his face that was surprisingly not condescending. The dull awareness in his eyes that spoke of some understanding of pain that I didn’t know he possessed. Whatever it was, I found myself telling him exactly what my mom had just told me.

“My dad had a heart attack. She doesn’t know…” I tried to steady myself to say what I truly feared. But Garrett said it for me, saving me from voicing the very thing that scared me the most.

“If he’s going to make it,” he said steadily. Our eyes met and I nodded.

“I’ve got to get back to the apartment and pack. I have to head out…tonight. I need to get home,” I said, feeling the surge of panic over take me.

“And where’s home?” Garrett asked.

“Maryland. About four and a half hours away,” I said, already calculating the time and distance in my head. At this rate, I wouldn’t make it to the hospital before five in the morning. The night spread out before me, long and lonely. Crap, I started shaking even harder.

“I’ll drive you,” Garrett said suddenly and that made me stop shaking and look at him as though he had lost his mind.

“I have a car, I’ve had my license for a few years now, you know,” I said, appreciating the opportunity to lob a bit of my normal snark. It made me feel normal, capable.

Garrett’s mouth raised into a small smile. “Yes, I’m aware, but you’re in no condition to drive right now. Not after getting that kind of news,” he said firmly, as though he dared me to argue with him.