Andy's face leached of all color. "Dad?"
"A mild heart attack," Maggie said, though she wasn't sure. Had it been mild? "He's stable now, completely all right—" Okay, that was an outright lie. "—All he needs is this very simple procedure. Angioplasty. They push a wire through to break up the clot—"
"A heart attack?" Andy interrupted. His honey-colored eyes were very wide and suddenly childlike.
"It's under control." Maggie put a hand on his shoulder. The muscles beneath her palm felt like rocks. "And this angioplasty, it works like a charm. Really, Andy. Everything is going to be fine."
Maggie knew she had no business handing out promises like this, particularly when she understood the kind of tragedies that often played out in hospitals. But the stunned pain on Andy's face killed her.
He drew in a deep breath. "I want to see him, Aunt Maggie."
"Yes—"
"I gotta."
"Well—"
"Now," Andy pleaded.
As she'd predicted, Andy was petrified. She took her hand off his shoulder. "Yes, but we have to pick up Kathy first—"
With a low groan, Andy grabbed Maggie's hand and pulled her toward the door. "Come on, then. Let's hurry."
"You're right, we should hurry," Maggie agreed, and moved with him toward the door. "Because they aren't going to do anything until you get there."
"Really?" Abruptly, Andy halted. About half his tension disappeared. "They aren't?"
"No." Maggie frowned, bemused. Why was Andy calmed by this knowledge? She'd have thought it would make him more anxious.
"Good," Andy said, very definite. "God, that's good." He pushed open the glass door. "Let's go."
Maggie followed him, feeling confused now on top of everything else. Why would Andy be so hot for them to wait?
~~~
Andy sat in the passenger seat of his Aunt Maggie's car, stiff as a block of ice and unable to believe this was happening. He was on his way, together with Aunt Maggie and his sister, to see his father get heart surgery. It couldn't be happening. Because come on, his dad was like...indestructible.
"Traffic's really good," Aunt Maggie commented, in a fake banal tone. "Must be past the morning rush."
"Mm," Andy replied, since she seemed to be waiting for a response from him. "Uh huh."
"Yup," Kathy answered from the backseat.
"I thought this would take much longer," Aunt Maggie chirped. She smiled faintly ahead at the road.
"Uh, right." Andy knew she was trying to make things easier, lighten it up and make it all seem normal, but it wasn't working. This was in no way normal.
His dad had had a heart attack? Shit. If there was one thing Andy had thought he could count on in his father, it was for him to be healthy and strong. Unbreakable. Hell, he hadn't even broken when Andy's mother had died, and Andy knew that had gotten through to him. But he'd just sucked it up and kept going, Dad had. That was the kind of guy he was.
Or so Andy had thought. Now he looked away from Aunt Maggie, who was still wearing the fake normal look, and gazed out the opposite window of the car. Was it possible he'd been wrong? Was it possible his father really wasn't indestructible?
The thought sent a shiver like a little snake through his gut.
If that wasn't bad enough, an image slipped into Andy's mind, like a slide being shoved into a projector. The image was of his father's face, the way it had looked that morning, kind of tight and sickish.
At the time Andy had thought his dad's expression was just his usual you're-such-a-jerk response to Andy, but now he had to wonder...what if it had been something else? What if he'd been starting to have the heart attack even then? And Andy hadn't noticed.
As he stared out the window, a pained moan nearly escaped Andy. What if he'd caused his father's heart attack?
"Traffic is really good," Aunt Maggie remarked.
Andy swallowed and kept his face resolutely turned toward the window. No, just being a jerk to somebody couldn't cause them to have a heart attack. Anyway, even if it could, his being a jerk to his father couldn't have effected such a thing. Nothing he did affected his father.
Work, work, work. That's all his dad cared about. Work always came first. Take the open house that was coming up at Andy's school. His dad wouldn't go to it, just like he hadn't showed up at the one last year, or the year before that. Nor would he come to Andy's soccer game next week. Andy would have to bum a ride off one of his friends' moms, as usual.
For the past three years, ever since Mom had died, that's the way it had been. Dad was always too busy. All he cared about was his job.
Andy couldn't have made him sick.
From her seat in back, Kathy suddenly leaned forward. She must not have fastened her seat belt because her face was practically on Andy's shoulder.
"My friend at school, Caitlin, her uncle had a heart attack," she blathered. "He had triple bypass surgery. That was a year ago, and now he's doing just fine."
"They've come a long way," Aunt Maggie agreed. She kept her attention on the road, but Andy knew she was pretty distracted, or she would have yelled at Kathy to get her seat belt on.
"And you said this thing they're doing to Dad is a lot easier than a triple bypass," Kathy said.
"That's right." Aunt Maggie's voice was hearty. Maybe too hearty.
Andy swiveled to stare at her. Dear God, was there more, something she wasn't telling them? Like maybe that this angioplasty wasn't as routine as she'd been making out? Could his father have some kind of complication?
Oh, God. Why, oh why, had he sworn at his father, right after being asked to watch his language?
Andy tried not to tremble as he turned back to stare out the window. They were getting closer to the hospital. He knew because he recognized one of the office buildings. He remembered the strange, oval sign on top of it from the last time he'd gone to the hospital, when his mother had died.
But Dad is not going to die, Andy assured himself. And it couldn't be my fault. But it was all he could do to keep his stomach from up-chucking. Because one thing he did know was that this was all, in fact, very real.
CHAPTER THREE
Maggie parked in the hospital parking garage, paying the exorbitant fee for the second time that day. She hurried the children out of the car and down the garage stairs.
In the car, Kathy had been hyperactively reassuring herself. Andy had been scarily quiet. Maggie was anxious to get these kids to Ian, so he could be the one dealing with their fears, the fears he had stirred up.
They swept through the main lobby, for Maggie already knew Ian was on the fourth floor in the cardiac care unit. But on the fourth floor, Maggie breezed through the glass doors of the unit and abruptly stopped.
Ian's bed was empty.
Her gaze swiveled around the room. No, he hadn't been moved to another bed. He wasn't there...or there...or there...
With her heart pounding madly, Maggie did her best to disguise her panic. "Um, they seem to have...moved him," she told the kids. "Let's ask the nurse outside."
The children unquestioningly followed Maggie out of the cardiac care unit to a nurses' station nearby.
"Ian Muldaur?" said the heavy-set nurse when Maggie asked for information. She picked a clipboard off her cluttered desk. She flipped a page and frowned. "He's in the Cath lab."
"The Cath—as in 'catheterization?'" Maggie licked her lips. "You mean, they're doing the procedure right now?"
"Uh hm," the nurse replied. Then a telephone rang, and she turned to answer it.
Maggie stood there, fighting a bizarre combination of anger and fear. She'd only been gone an hour-and-a-half, less time than she'd told them. They were supposed to have waited—that is, they were supposed to have waited unless Ian's medical condition deteriorated.
"Shit," Andy whispered. "Shit, shit, shit."
Maggie's thoughts exactly. She leaned over the desk toward the nurse. "Excuse me?"
The nurse, still on the telephone, held up one finge
r. It took her a moment to finish the call and put down the receiver. "Yes?"
Maggie cleared her throat. How to ask this without alarming the children even more? "Uh, it was my understanding they were going to wait to get started, until I could get here with Ian's—with Mr. Muldaur's—children."
The nurse's gaze flicked to take in the two wide-eyed kids.
Maggie cleared her throat again. "Was there—? That is, did something change?"
The nurse looked back at Maggie. "The heart surgeon got here."
"Excuse me?"
"The heart surgeon got here." The nurse gave a small, knowing smile. "Nobody makes a heart surgeon wait."
"Ah." Maggie felt her tension ease. Indeed, for a moment she almost felt amused. Somebody had actually out-commanded Ian.
"But they started," Andy spoke up. "I can't see him."
The nurse shook her head. "Not until they're through. But the Cath room waiting area is on the fifth floor. You can see him right afterward."
"There." Maggie injected her voice with confidence. "We'll be seeing your dad in—what?—an hour?"
The nurse hummed. "Closer to two."
"Two hours," Maggie repeated heartily. Frankly, it sounded like forever.
"But I needed to see him before," Andy groaned.
"Two hours from now you'll see him," Maggie promised. "It'll be okay."
Andy covered his face with his hands.
Bewildered, Maggie sent her gaze to Kathy, as if the eleven-year-old might be able to help.
To Maggie's surprise, a dawn of understanding came over Kathy's face. "Oh, sure you needed to see Dad before." She turned to Maggie, wry. "The last thing he said to Dad this morning was 'fuck you.'"
Maggie's eyebrows shot up. Oh, she thought. That's what Andy had last said to Ian? All the little pieces started to come together: Ian's insistence, Andy's urgency. Oh-h-h, Maggie thought.
Suddenly that two percent chance of a problem took on new significance. Ian hadn't wanted even a tiny chance that his son would have to live with those angry words as the last conversation between them.
"Oh," Maggie breathed out loud. A strange sensation shivered through her.
"Well, Aunt Maggie?" Kathy hopped a little. "Should we go to the fifth floor?"
"Hm?" Maggie shook her head to clear it. "Oh, yeah, the fifth floor waiting room. Good idea."
But her brain was only half there as she led the children to the elevator. The other half was on Ian. He could have explained that to her, that there'd been a good reason for her to go get the kids.
Or could he have? Maggie winced as she had to admit she hadn't given Ian the slightest impression she would have listened if he'd tried.
~~~
Ian was dimly aware of the sleek stripes on the wall moving past and of automatic doors swishing open as the nurse wheeled him into the recovery room. With half an ear, he heard her issue a dire warning against touching the sheath in his groin. He didn't bother assuring her he had no interest in messing with the sheath.
He wasn't about to do anything to jeopardize the miracle that had happened in the catheterization lab. They'd fixed him, they'd actually fixed him.
Ian had been able to stay awake during the procedure. He'd seen the blockage on the monitor. Up until that moment, he hadn't fully appreciated the problem. Then he'd seen the doctors do their magic, had seen the blood start flowing hungrily through.
It had been amazing, and humbling.
After that, the doctor had put in a stent to make sure the area stayed open. Ian had enthusiastically agreed with this procedure. The more safeguards, the better.
Now his nurse brought Ian's gurney to a halt and adjusted his IV bag. "Are you in any pain?"
Ian shook his head. He didn't know if he would even recognize pain just then; he was feeling so relieved he was high. All the fear he hadn't been allowing himself to acknowledge had been allayed. He was okay. He was okay.
Well, all right, there was still the question of why this had happened at all, the possibility of a family history of heart disease. That would mean it could happen again...
Quickly, Ian shook such ruminations away. He wasn't going to think about the downside now. He was okay. They'd fixed it. The two percent hadn't happened.
For which Maggie ought to be desperately grateful, Ian mused. If he'd died without having had a chance to talk to his kids—all because she had refused to get them—he would have come back to haunt her.
The nurse looked down with a teacher-like expression. "You're going to have to stay flat on your back for a while. A long while. Four to eight hours."
"I understand."
"Do you?"
Ian had no idea why she looked so incredulous. "Maggie," he said. "My— Well, the lady who was here before. Can you get her?" Maybe now he could persuade the blasted woman to go get his kids.
"She'll be in the waiting room?"
"I guess." Hell. He hoped Maggie'd had the decency to hang around after she'd stomped out on him. He needed someone to get his kids, to explain what had happened, and that everything was all right.
"I'll go check," said the nurse.
"Thanks."
She pointed a finger at him. "Don't move off your back."
"I won't." But it was harder than he'd have guessed to follow her instructions, so badly did he want to get up and find Maggie.
The nurse gave him one last warning look before leaving the room.
How long until he could see his kids? Ian wondered. Maggie had said it might take as long as two hours to go fetch them. He thought that was an exaggeration, particularly since it wasn't rush hour.
Of course, this was assuming Maggie had bothered waiting for him at all. Or that she would do what he asked even now. No, she probably had some additional reason he should be kept apart from his children. Lord, the woman was a real piece of work. In the midst of his relief and gratitude, Ian allowed himself a flash of temper toward Maggie.
"Dad!"
The voice made Ian start. He turned his head and saw his daughter.
Kathy's cinnamon brown curls bounced around her face as she rushed toward him. "Dad, you're all through!" She threw her arms over him. "It seemed to take forever," she mumbled into the hospital blanket.
Ian plowed a hand into her curls. Kathy was here? Already? What about Andy? Ian looked up.
Wow. There walking slowly toward him, was his son. He had his hands dug into his trouser pockets. Andy eyed him warily. "The nurse said—" Andy cleared his throat. "The nurse said everything turned out okay."
"Yes." Ian's voice came out hoarse, but he didn't bother clearing his throat. He knew the emotion rising up would only clog it again. His son was here, and he actually seemed to care that Ian was all right.
But of course he cared. Ian hadn't really doubted that. Now he grabbed Andy's hand and held on tight. "Everything is just fine," he said, still hoarse.
Andy sucked in his lips and nodded.
Kathy lifted her head. "We had to wait so long," she complained.
"Well, that's because they wanted to make sure to take care of everything," Ian explained.
"It was only an hour and fifty minutes," Andy put in, disdainful.
Ian's head turned sharply toward him. They'd been waiting almost two hours? That meant Maggie must have left directly from their argument in the CCU to go get the kids.
She hadn't rebuffed Ian's request. On the contrary, she'd gone and done exactly what he'd asked her to do.
Feeling a strange, shimmery sensation, Ian moved his gaze past Andy's shoulder. Just inside the door stood Maggie. Maggie, who'd actually done what Ian had asked of her.
The strangeness inside Ian expanded as he met her gaze.
She had one hand fisted around her purse strap and her head tilted, a posture that said she didn't give a damn. But she'd gone and gotten the kids for him. Even though she hadn't agreed, she'd done it.
Ian had to work his throat before he could get any words out. "If the heart surgeon hadn't
shown up, you would have been in time."
Maggie stared at the IV bag above him. "I guess. Anyway, it's just as well you got it over with, huh?"
Ian blinked. Was that a dig? Was she telling him he'd only ended up doing what she'd thought he ought to do in the first place?
Whatever. He was feeling too grateful, too...surprised to care. So he agreed with her. "Yeah. It's just as well it's over with."
Her gaze came back to him then. For one strange moment they looked into each other's eyes. In that moment Ian saw he'd been wrong. Maggie wasn't insisting she'd been right. If he wasn't hallucinating, she was, in her own strange way, apologizing.
A strong, if indefinable, emotion washed through him. It certainly was...powerful to have Maggie agree with him about anything. To have her understand.
He managed to nod. "Thanks."
"Mm." And that was as much of a "you're welcome" as Ian got. She started to walk backward. "Anyway, I'll, uh, give you guys some privacy. The nurse said it should be all right for the kids to visit as long as nobody makes you move off your back." A brief smile flitted over Maggie's expressive features. "It was real important to her that you stay on your back, Ian."
"Yeah." Ian let his voice go dry. "I already got that impression."
Maggie's eyes came back to his then, briefly. But not briefly enough that Ian didn't feel another splash of that indefinable emotion. Then she nodded and slipped out of the room.
~~~
"What about Grandma and Grandpa?" Kathy asked, looking out Maggie's car window as the Toyota settled into its usual parking spot beside the nursery building. Kathy undid her seat belt. "Shouldn't we call them about Dad?"
Maggie did her best to hide a grimace. Kathy was right. Someone should call her parents, Ian's in-laws, and let them know what was going on. The logical someone was her. She turned off the motor. "Let's open the nursery for business first," she stalled.
For a moment Kathy hesitated, her hand on the car door handle. Had she sensed Maggie's reluctance? But then she popped open the door. "Okay."
Andy simply glanced at Maggie, then got out his side of the car. Her nephew had said very little since they'd seen Ian in the recovery room.
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