She smiled at this, and her eyes shimmered with the gloss of tears, though not a single one left her eye to travel down her face. She was a master at holding in a cry.
“I told Jim not to bug you so you could sleep off your migraine.”
“I’m okay, Mom,” I croaked.
I would need to come clean with her about everything soon, but now was not the time. She reached a pale hand out, and I took it in both of mine and gave her a squeeze.
Her gaze went from affectionate to inquisitive in an instant, her brows sharpening on her tired face. “How’d you get here?”
“A friend drove me,” I said.
“Cleo?” she asked, her hand still in mine.
“No, Hayes.”
“Your subway boyfriend?” She shifted against her pillows, sitting up a bit. “Franny, this is exciting.”
She was smiling, but all I could see was how pale she was.
“Mom, he’s just a friend. Please calm down. I don’t want you to do anything that’s going to make you feel worse.”
“Oh, please, Franny, I’m going to be fine,” she scolded.
An older woman with short black hair in nurse’s scrubs came into the room, pushing a large machine on a cart.
“Hi, Diane,” she said. “I’ve got to borrow you for a bit for vitals, and then you should take it easy.”
“I’ll wait outside, okay?” I said.
My mom nodded at this.
“I love you, Mom.” Every muscle in my throat caught on the words.
“I love you too, honey.”
I held in my tears until I got into the hallway. This entire day had been too much. Too much good feeling, too much doubt, too much fear. I found the family waiting room and collapsed onto a worn pink couch. Phone in hand, I opened my text messages.
One from Hayes. Downstairs if you need me, was all it said.
I opened up my text chain with Cleo and Lola. Sorry for this very late message, but I’m out in CT with my mom—she had a heart attack. She’s going to be ok I think. At hospital.
Their replies came back almost immediately, but I closed my phone and hit the DO NOT DISTURB button. I didn’t have the energy for it right now.
I took the elevator back downstairs to the lobby, but Hayes was nowhere to be found.
I looked around for a moment, and then I heard him. He was outside, on his phone.
“I’m going to need to reschedule it, Eleanor,” he was saying as I walked out the automatic doors, his voice firm. “I’m still at the hospital, and I don’t want to leave her like this.”
A pause. He paced, and I stood just outside the door, listening.
“Oh my god, no. You do not need to go.” He was agitated and loud, a sight I’d never seen before. “I’ll push everything to next week. There’s no way I’m going to make my flight now, anyway.”
He caught my eye, gave me a quick wave, and then put his head back down, listening.
“The investor meeting is just going to have to be canceled. Yeah. Yeah. I know it looks bad. I don’t give a fuck.”
He let out a sigh. He looked exhausted. He went silent again, and I started to feel sick, for real, my head throbbing. He was rearranging all his work stuff for me. This was horrible.
I stepped toward him, grabbing his arm. He moved his phone away. “Is everything okay?” he asked, a concerned look spreading over his face. “Your mom?”
“Do not cancel your work trip for me.” My voice was firmer than I’d expected. I sounded mad. I was mad.
He put the phone back up. “Hey, I’ll call you right back,” he said, and then turned all his attention to me. “Franny, what’s going on?”
“I cannot be the reason you don’t go to Seattle.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“You don’t get to decide that,” he said, mirroring me. “There’s no way I’m going to make my flight now. And I’d rather be here with you.”
“I can’t let you do that,” I said, shaking my head at him. Why was he being so stubborn? “You can’t cancel an investor meeting that affects your whole company, just because of me.”
“Franny,” he said, giving me a hard stare. “First of all, I can do whatever I damn well please.”
I opened my mouth, ready to snap at him, but he spoke before I could get a word in.
“Look…” He paused, his eyes darting across my face. “I screwed up my last relationship because of work. And”—he sighed, lifted a hand, and dug it into the back of his neck—“I really don’t want to do that again.”