“You can’t blame yourself for this, Mom. Besides, triple bypass surgery is as common as an appendectomy these days. You heard the doctor, Dad’s in good shape otherwise. He’ll come out of this better than ever.” She was the parent, but I was the one comforting her.
Of course, deep down, I was terrified at the thought of my dad being splayed open on an operating table. He’d only ever been in the hospital once before. It hadn’t been anything serious, just some tests for dizziness he’d been experiencing, but I had only been ten, and it had shaken me to my core. I could still remember sitting in my fifth grade classroom the day they were doing the tests. It had been like today, a blur, but with small details remaining crystal clear in the midst of it all. My teacher had been talking about the presidential election, and it had caused a heated debate in class. I was glad for the diversion. I’d lowered my head to my desk so no one could see my tears. Then Mike Little yelled out, ‘Hey Kensington is bawling’. I went home early that day, and Mom and I went to the hospital to wait with Dad for the results. He let me sit on his hospital bed, and we shared the milkshake we’d snuck in for him.
A nurse stepped into the waiting room. “Mrs. Modante?”
My mom nearly fell out of the chair. “Yes, what is it?” She was nearly shrieking, and I placed my hand on her arm to calm her.
“We’re wheeling Mr. Modante into surgery, and I thought you’d both like to see him first.”
Mom wasn’t one to move fast with anything. She considered abrupt movements unladylike and crass, but she shot out of her chair as if someone had lit a firecracker beneath her. That’s when it occurred to me—she was completely nuts about my dad. There were times when she’d roll her eyes at things he said, or she’d complain that he spent too much time at work or at golf or anything else she might see as an opportunity to nitpick. But, underneath it all, she still had a huge crush on the man. That’s what I wanted. I wanted a man who I could have a crush on even when he was being annoying or grumpy or turning gray and wrinkled.
A hospital bed was wheeled out of the room. Several nurses walked alongside it with I.V. bags and monitors. Everything about the face staring up from the pillow was familiar, but I couldn’t believe how small and frail my dad looked. It took me a second to gather myself, and I had to work hard to keep it together. I’d been spending a lot of time calming Mom’s fears about this very common procedure, but in truth, the thought that he could die on the table terrified me.
Dad was slightly drugged, and his eyes took a second to focus on my face as I leaned down over the bed. His hand had tubes sticking out of it, but I managed to grasp his fingers. That’s when it hit me, I wasn’t always going to have my parents. How was that possible? Why was life set up so you came to depend wholly on two people who would eventually leave you?
Tears beaded on my lashes, and I was thankful that Dad was out of it. Mom was next to me. She’d already started sobbing into her shredded tissue again.
“Kensie, take care of your mom. I’ll be fine. But if something happens, the important papers are—”
“Yeah, I know, Dad, you’ve told me all that before. Just stay strong, and we’ll see you in recovery.” My last words were shaky and that made my mom cry louder.
Dad lifted his head to get a view of her. I kissed him and stepped back so that my mom could move to his side. She leaned down over him and his arm went around her, comforting her, protecting her as he’d always done. All I could think was that my mom was the luckiest woman in the world.
I stood with my arm around my mom, and we watched as the hospital bed was wheeled through the double doors to surgery. We walked back to sit in the odd smelling waiting room and suffer the agonizing hours of worry while Dad went through his surgery.
“Mom, I’ll go down to the cafeteria and get us some coffees.”
She nodded. It was weird seeing her in this state of disarray. She rarely left the house without being perfectly put together—a look that required a good, long hour in her luxurious master bath and a vast array of expensive cosmetics. But she stood in the fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway with a bright red nose and lipstick that had smeared to just a few pink streaks on her lips. Mascara darkened the circles beneath her eyes. She looked completely lost. She looked like a woman who was heartbroken with worry over the man who’d been her soul mate for thirty years.
I hugged her. “I’ll be right back with the coffees.”
“Kensington,” she said so faintly I could barely hear her over the hospital clamor, “you’re such a good daughter.” We both broke into sobs as we stood in the hallway, hugging each other, scared to death that we might lose the man who’d always been the center of both our lives.
Chapter 31
Cole
Daylight was fading fast, and we’d turned on the lights over the ramp. I’d returned from the coffee shop feeling like shit. Denver hadn’t even bothered to ask me how it had gone. My expression was enough to warn him off asking.
Rodeo had ended up going out with a couple girls to a local bar for happy hour, so Denver and I put on some gear to practice. I needed to work on getting big air when I came off the kicker, and I’d been wanting to master the no-footed landing.
Sweat had glued my shirt to me, and my hair was soaked under the helmet as I rode toward the ramp. I’d had a few good jumps, mostly because I’d been working hard at trying to forget how I’d fucked up something good with Kensington. But as I raced across the yard, I had a flashback of the Halloween party when we’d been sitting out there talking and laughing. I’d known then that I wanted to get to know her better.
I hit the ramp at full speed. My hand grabbed so much throttle, the launch had way more lift than I’d been ready for. The house, the yard and the outside lights blurred as I arced through the air. The dirt ramp for landing passed beneath me, and I braced for a hard impact on solid flat ground. The no-footer landing was out of the question. Now I just needed to hope that I could keep the bike upright. My back was still sore. I held my breath as I bounced hard against the seat. I turned a hard left but managed to keep rubber on the ground.
I rode back around to where Denver was standing, straddling his bike. I pulled down my goggles and pried the helmet off my head. Sweat dripped from my hair and I flicked my head like a dog. “Not my fucking week.”
“At least you stuck it. But I’ll bet that didn’t help your sore tailbone. I think you should call it a night, King. You’re off. Happens to all of us.”
Denver had only been broken off from his girlfriend, Melody, for a month. There were times when it was obvious that it was still eating at him.
“You’re probably right. Besides, if I get hurt, you’ll be in charge on the site tomorrow,” I reminded him.
“Shit, hadn’t thought of that. Get off that bike and go pack yourself in fucking cotton for the rest of the night, boss. I hate concrete day.”
“Shit, you and me both. I’m definitely not feeling it tonight.” I climbed off my bike and rolled it to the wall to sit and watch Denver practice.
As I hoisted myself onto the bricks, my gaze coasted across the ravine and empty landscape to the vineyard. There were lights on outside the barn, but it was quiet. I wondered just how long it had taken Kensington to change her mind about meeting me. Or maybe she’d never really planned on it at all. Maybe it had just been a way to get me to leave her alone.
“Here comes dipshit,” Denver said motioning his head toward the house.
Rodeo was walking out to the jump. He was grinning from side to side, which meant he had either scored or was about to. I needed to get back to that easy, no frills attached attitude about women. It was obvious a steady relationship wasn’t for me. I was fine with that, or at least I would be once I’d finally washed the thought of Kensington from my mind. I just wasn’t sure how long that would take.