“When I told her I wouldn’t be ready in a year, she gave me back the ring.” It seemed, even now, he had a hard time believing she would walk away.
The shock of it rang in his voice. Shock, disappointment, pain.
“I’m sorry, Steve.”
“Yeah, well, she’s apparently moved on. I saw a post on Facebook with her and some other guy.”
“I bet that stung.”
He snickered. “It sure didn’t take her long to find someone else.”
“Sounds to me like she made her point,” Joan murmured.
“The thing is, if she came back to me today and said she’d changed her mind, I’d laugh and tell her she’s too late.”
“Oh Steve, that’s both stubborn and foolish. We both know that’s your pride talking.”
“Yeah,” he reluctantly agreed. “I miss her. She made everything better. Zoe was the best friend I’ve ever had. I…feel empty without her. There wasn’t anything I couldn’t tell her. She’s smart, and savvy, beautiful, and wise. Nothing feels right without her.”
That sounded like love to Joan. “Then tell her how you feel.”
“I can’t; she won’t listen.”
“Don’t be so sure. You two were together a long time, son. She’s got to be missing you, too. You need to think about what your life will be like without her. Why does marriage terrify you?”
“I…don’t know,” he confessed, sadness leaking into his voice.
“Could it have anything to do with losing your dad?” Joan asked, hoping it wasn’t so.
“I don’t see how it could.”
“Give it some thought.”
“Thanks for pressing me about the issue with Zoe, Mom. I feel better having talked to you. I’ll think about what you said and let you know what I decide.”
“Good. I’m here for you anytime you want to talk, Steve.”
“I know.”
“Let’s connect again soon. Okay?”
“Sure thing.” They were about to end the conversation when the door opened and Maggie came inside, following her shift at Starbucks.
Joan and Steve said their good-byes, and Joan turned her attention to her boarder. “Hope you had a good day.”
“It was long. Our oven broke down and it’s going to be a week before we can get it repaired. Customers weren’t happy.”
Joan had to smile. The horror of having to do without egg bites was too much to bear.
Maggie’s phone chirped and she groaned as she answered. Her eyes immediately grew large as all color drained from her face.
“What is it?” Joan asked as soon as Maggie disconnected.
“That was the hospital. Dad collapsed at the Half Pint and was taken in by ambulance.”
Chapter 27
Maggie rushed into Swedish Hospital, where the ambulance had taken her father, and went straight to the counter. “I’m Maggie Herbert. My father was brought into the ER. Can I see him, please?”
The receptionist told Maggie she’d need to step over to the window marked Security. When asked by the guard, she provided her identification, and was given a name tag and buzzed into the ER. A nurse directed her to the room where her father lay on a gurney.
“Dad,” she cried, as she hurried to his side.
“Maggie.” He half-raised himself up on his elbow, extending his arm to reach for her. When he grabbed hold of her hand, his punishing grip was so hard she nearly yelped in pain.
“I’m here,” she said, stating the obvious. “What happened?”
Her father shook his head. “Don’t know. I wasn’t feeling well, haven’t been for some time now. I was at the Half Pint, and Al was chattering away how he does. The man never shuts up. The next thing I knew some guy was leaning over me, and I was lying flat on the floor with Al looking to the heavens and praying out loud asking God to spare me. Guess he thought I was dying. The paramedic from the fire station said I’d passed out.”
“Oh Dad, you’ve got to take better care of yourself.” This was exactly what Maggie had feared. His drinking had finally caught up with him. None of her pleading had helped, nor had her moving away.
“Maggie,” he whispered. His eyes were full of desperation. “You’ve got to get me out of here.”
She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Not yet, we need to find out what’s wrong first.”
He adamantly shook his head, his eyes pleading with her. “Get me out of this place. People die in here.”
Despite herself, Maggie grinned. “Let’s talk to the doctor first.”
“They’re going to kill me. Mark my words, Maggie, they keep me, and I’ll be dead in a week.” His fear was palpable. He sincerely believed all hope would be lost if the hospital decided he needed additional care and didn’t release him right away.
The doctor stepped into the room, a chart in his hand. His gaze was on the paperwork. Her father’s hold on Maggie’s hand tightened even more. She stayed close to the side of the gurney, letting him know she wasn’t leaving him alone.
The physician’s name tag identified him as Dr. Lael. When he looked up, his gaze went from Roy to Maggie and then returned to her father.
“Mr. Herbert, I’m Dr. Lael.”
Maggie’s father glared at the physician. “I can read, you know. That badge has your name on it. Lael. Funny name. Who are your people, anyway? Undertakers?”
“Dad,” Maggie protested. She looked apologetically at the doctor and added, “You’ll have to forgive my father; he’s suspicious of hospitals. I’m Maggie Herbert, his daughter.”
Dr. Lael grinned, clearly amused. “Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Herbert, but there isn’t a single undertaker in the family.”
Roy Herbert made a scoffing sound, as if he didn’t believe him for a moment.
The physician glanced down at the chart and addressed Maggie. “The blood tests we took show that your father is suffering from liver disease.”
Maggie had suspected that was likely the problem. Her father’s diet consisted mostly of beer, and it’d been that way for years. Dr. Lael went on to give her the medical information that pointed to his conclusion. One look at her father’s jaundiced eyes had already raised her suspicions. Even his complexion looked yellow, and she’d noticed several bruises on his arms as well.
“Mr. Herbert,” Dr. Lael addressed her father, his expression serious, “you’re going to need to lay off the alcohol.”
Her father reacted with a snort. “Barely touch the stuff.”
“Dad,” Maggie protested. “You drink every day. You were at a tavern when you passed out.”
“I drink beer. Hardly ever sample the hard stuff.”
“Dad,” she said, as gently as she could. “Beer, in excess, can be just as damaging as hard alcohol.”
What color remained on Roy’s face quickly disappeared. “I have to give up beer?”
“Yes, Dad, if you want to live, you’re going to need to abstain from all alcohol.”
Roy looked deep in thought and then shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was emphatic. “I’d rather be dead.”