The Phone Call

His heartbeat in my ear was slowly lulling me to sleep. I could feel my eyes droop and I tried to fight it because I didn't want this night to end. His fingers stroked through my hair slowly, over and over again, making me even more tired. But it felt so good. 

I was pretty sure we had both gone to sleep for a good twenty minutes when suddenly my phone rang. We both jumped at the loud sound in the dark, quiet room. I dug my face into his chest and covered my ears, ignoring it.

After it quieted down I took my hand off of my ear and settled back down. "Do you want to check it?" He asked me through a yawn. I shook my head against his chest and inhaled his cinnamon and cologne scent. We settled back down and just when I felt so relaxed, my phone blared again. I huffed loudly and sat up, looking around for my jacket. I could barely see anything but saw the light from my phone screen. It was clear across the room on a small futon he had against the far wall. 

I groaned and stomped over to the jacket and took out my phone. The call died down and I noticed I had a few text messages from Chloe and some from my mom. My phone began ringing again and I answered it immediately, seeing as it was my mom calling me once again. 

"Hello?" 

"Oh thank God! Kelly! You have to hurry! Your dad just had a heart attack and we're here at the hospital! I've been trying to call you forever! I called Chloe and she said you were down in the kitchen and you'd call me back. Where are you!? Get here quick!" My stomach dropped and I felt a pang in my chest.

"Okay! Okay! Which hospital!?" I zipped around James' bedroom putting on my jacket and trying to find my shoes. 

She spouted out the hospital's name and we hung up. James was sitting up watching me. I ignored him the best I could, trying to keep my anxiety in control so that I could focus enough to go to the hospital. 

I needed to see my dad. I needed to make sure he was okay. As I looked for my shoes, from the corner of my eye, I saw him get up and start moving around. I wasn't sure what he was doing but it wasn't my concern anymore. My only concern was to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

After I found my shoes and jerked them onto my feet, I began walking to his bedroom door and then felt a tug on my hand.

"Give me a second to find my keys and I'll take you to wherever you need."

"I'll just get an Uber."I snapped. 

"I'll be faster than an Uber right now. I'm guessing it's urgent. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, but I'll still get you there." I took a deep breath trying to clear my muddled up brain and nodded slowly, feeling my eyes being to water.

"Thank you."

We left his house quickly after he found his keys, leaving Michael snoring soundly on James' bed. I gave him the name of the hospital and he drove safely, but quickly to the hospital. 

Thoughts of my dad throughout the day plagued my mind. Did he show any signs and I missed them? Was he breathing okay when I left? Did something trigger it? He wasn't very young anymore . Him and my mom had me when she was forty five and he was forty eight. I leaned back in the passenger seat of his car and pressed the palms of my hands to my eyes. He's going to be okay. I told myself. He's going to be just fine. Plenty of people survived heart attacks. He just had to eat better. And stop smoking cigarettes. And maybe I could do more around the house so he wouldn't have to. I could get a job so he wasn't so stressed about the bills. Anything. I would do anything to help. 

When we arrived at the hospital, he dropped me off at the emergency entrance and I turned to thank him. He nodded slowly but I didn't wait to watch him leave. I rushed inside and rattled off my dad's name to the receptionist nurse lady at the desk. I had to admit I was a bit rude, but it was an emergency. 

She took the longest f*cking time typing and squinting her eyes like I wasn't in a damn hurry. She asked for me to repeat his name to her again and I nearly lost it on her. I could literally feel my blood pressure rise through the roof. It was only when I felt a hand on the small of my back that I got distracted enough not to blow my top at the old b*tch. 

I glanced up and furrowed my eyebrows at James. Before I could ask him why he was still here, the receptionist told us that he was up in surgery and that we could wait in the waiting room on the third floor. After I thanked her, I rushed to the bank of elevators directly to our right by the receptionist area, followed by James. 

I didn't ask him why he was still here. I honestly didn't care at the moment anyways. I just wanted to see my mom and hoped that my dad's surgery was going well. We rode up in silence with a couple of older women. It had to be about four in the morning. Why in the hell was the hospital still so busy?

When we landed on our floor, I looked around for my mom, noticing a few people milling around the large waiting area. I sighed in relief when I saw her sitting in an uncomfortable looking orange plastic chair wearing her pink, satin, spaghetti strap pajama shirt and her matching ruffled, shorts ,on the left side of the room closest to the surgery doors. She had on a pair of my dad's house shoes and her hair was up in a messy bun. 

I ran to her and as soon as she saw me she stood up and squeezed me tightly to her body. "How is he?" I asked her. She was a bit taller than me, but we were still cheek to cheek. I felt a wetness on her cheek, like she had been crying. 

"Not sure. I started CPR when he collapsed at the house and called the ambulance during. He was still breathing when they got us here, but I really don't know." Her voice trembled and squeaked at the end. I could smell the alcohol strongly on her breath. I grit my teeth and refrained myself from telling her off. It wasn't the time or the place. I had completely forgotten about James being there with me until my mom looked up from my shoulder behind me and quirked a blonde eyebrow."Who is he?"

I turned to look at James and he gave me a tight, awkward smile. I turned back to my mom and led her back to her chair. "He's my friend. His name is James."

"So you weren't in the kitchen? Or was that code for being somewhere you weren't supposed to be?"

I blushed and shook my head. James walked over and sat next to me in the chair. I still didn't know what he was doing, but something told me that he wouldn't leave if I told him to. So I just let him sit there. 

"Give me your jacket, Kelly. I'm half naked here." My mom muttered to me after a few minutes. I could argue with her and tell her that I was practically showing more skin than she was, but I shed my jacket and handed it to her. Next to me, James peeled off the sweater he had thrown on before we left his house and held it out to me. I smiled up at him and took it gratefully. 

We all sat in silence for about half an hour before my mom turned to us and looked directly at James. "Can you run and get us some coffees? Kelly can send you money through her phone."

James stood up immediately and I glared at my mom. "He's not servant mom."

"I asked him. I didn't demand him."

"It's okay. I can go" He turned to me and I took out my phone to get his information to send him money. He shook his head and gently reached into the pocket of his sweater and took out his wallet. I blushed. I hadn't even noticed it was in there.

As soon as he left my mom turned to me and gave gave me a questioning look. I ignored her for a few seconds and stared at the elevators where he had disappeared in. 

"He's a friend. I already told you."

"And the hickey on your neck says differently." I blushed and touched my neck. She poked me on the side of my neck close to my ear. I seemed to remember exactly when his mouth had been there. I blushed even harder and shook my head.

"He's just a friend." 

"Okay."

We sat waiting for something to happen. James arrived with the coffees within twenty minutes of leaving us and we all sipped on our coffees in silence. I thought of everything. Of my dad. Of Dexter. Of James. My mind didn't know which subject to settle on. I would peek over at James every now and then. Sometimes I would catch him looking at me and he'd turn away quickly after. Other times he would catch me staring. 

It was an eternity before a nurse came out and called my dad's name. 

My mom rushed over to her and I stood up and waited. The nurse asked us to move to a different waiting room down the hallway from where we were at. The chairs seemed more comfortable here and there was a small table with coffee refills and sugar and stuff. It seemed a bit darker than the main waiting area and felt a little ominous. Why did they bring us here?

We all sat down in the gray, chairs with actual cushion-y seats and waited again. Out of the windows in this room, the sun was beginning to rise. I watched it and prayed the hardest I have ever prayed for a good outcome. We waited in the room for another half an hour before a couple of doctors dressed in light blue scrubs entered the room. 

"Mrs.Whitmore?"

My mom looked up at his face, her face full of hope and I felt my heart squeeze. I could hear my own pulse in my ears and I had no idea when I had grabbed James' hand, but I squeezed it as I waited.

"Yes. That's me." She stood up and waited.

"Your husband came in with a severe aortic aneurysm that unfortunately burst. We did everything we medically could, but he did not make it through the surgery."

My mom stared up at him with her mouth half open, looking confused. "O-okay." She stuttered. "When can I see him?"

I felt my heart break. Did she not understand what he said? I felt myself move forward and I put a hand on my mom's shoulder. "Mom. He's gone."

She turned to me and nodded. "I know. I want to see him. I need to see him." I still couldn't understand why she would want that but I looked up at the doctor and he nodded slowly.

"Okay, I will have someone come and get you so you can see him."

She nodded slowly and turned around and sat back down. Her eyes had a far away look to them. I turned to look at James to see if I was the only one who could see her or if I was going crazy. He looked down at me sympathetically and gave my hand a small squeeze. I took a long deep breath and felt my eyes sting with tears. I covered my face with the sleeve of James' sweater and leaned into him, not knowing what else to do.

They came and got my mom and I sat in that waiting room and just stared at the wall. I couldn't believe that it was that quick. I couldn't believe that he was really gone. And what the hell was up with my mom? Did she not care? 

I curled up against James until my mom came back and when I saw her red, puffy eyes, I realized that she had just wanted to mourn his loss on her own. 

The drive back home was a short one. Mom laid in the back seat of James' car and hid her face. I stared out of the front window and just tried to puzzle everything in my head. 

It wasn't until James helped me get my mom into the house and then left that things began to click. I helped my mom into bed and stared at the rumpled sheets on my dad's side. It hit me so hard right then and there. He was never coming home. I was never going to get to see him alive ever again. My dad was dead.