I lean back, pressing into the waiting room couch so I can get a better look at him. Long lashes rest on his cheeks and his wide mouth is relaxed. I know as soon as he wakes up, all of that will change. Regret and anxiety have been boring a hole in him ever since he got the call about his father. I want him to rest as long as he can. I ease myself out from beneath his arm, careful not to wake him.
“Who are you?”
The quiet question comes from a few feet away. A woman with auburn hair and Rhyson’s eyes stands there calmly considering me. I stand, glancing down to make sure Rhyson is still asleep.
“I-I’m Kai Pearson,” I whisper, moving closer to her so I won’t have to speak any louder. “Rhyson’s friend.”
“Hmmmm.” Just a sound that moves her eyebrows up in disdain or disapproval. I’m not sure which, but it doesn’t feel good, what those rising brows do to me.
“Mother.” Bristol yawns, extending her arms and legs fully. “You made it.”
Angela Gray nods, her eyes softening and warming only a little as she considers her daughter.
“I just spoke with a nurse who assured me your father should be out soon.” Angela walks over to Bristol, gesturing for her to make room on the couch. “He’ll pull through this. I know he will.”
I look for a hint of vulnerability, concern, fear. She shows none of it. She doesn’t reach for Bristol’s hand. There is no hug. No kiss. In a situation like this, my mother would have been smothering me with touches and kisses and assurances. Nothing. The thought of this cold woman raising Rhyson with her own interests in mind sets my teeth on edge. Mama always taught me not to be quick to judge, but I can’t help it. I’m not sure I’ll like her.
“Pep.” Rhyson opens his eyes and looks at the empty space beside him.
“Hey.” I walk back over to sit beside him, pushing his tousled hair back. “I’m glad you slept some.”
“I thought for a second . . .” He gives me a quick shake of his head. “I’m glad you’re still here.”
“Of course I am.” I squeeze his hand on the couch between us. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I feel Angela Gray’s eyes on us like snow, a light but persistent cold flurry. Rhyson must feel it too.
“Mother.” That guard he keeps close slips right into place, falling over his eyes and tightening his mouth. “When did you get here?”
“Just now.” She walks toward us, and Rhyson’s fingers contract around mine. Unreasonably, I want to place myself between them when he stands to receive her hug, forcing him to drop my hand.
“I’m glad you came,” she says.
I wonder why Rhyson merits a hug, but Bristol did not. By the way Bristol’s eyes narrow on them, maybe she wonders too. Or maybe she already knows. Maybe if she could play like Rhyson does, she’d get a hug.
Angela looks down on me, and not just physically, sitting on the couch.
“Kai and I just met.”
Rhyson looks over his shoulder at me, eyes warming.
“Yeah, Kai’s one of Grady’s students and . . .” He hesitates over the next word a second too long, the pause drawing Angela and Bristol’s attention. “A good friend.”
Before Angela has a chance to respond, the doctor walks into the waiting room, pulling down his mask as he approaches. If I thought we all looked haggard, we’ve got nothing on him.
“You’re Benjamin Gray’s family?” His weary eyes fix on Angela when she nods and steps closer.
“Yes, what can you tell us? How is he?” She squares her shoulders and watches him unblinkingly, as if afraid she’ll miss a detail. Even with the red hair, I see her in Bristol and Rhyson. Other than the eyes, it isn’t physical. It’s a subtle similarity I’ll have to observe to understand.
“I’m Dr. Anderson. We performed an emergency coronary bypass,” the doctor says. “It’s open heart surgery, which is why it took so long. I am guardedly pleased, but it’s too early to say for sure what happens next.”
All the Grays around me seem to release a collective breath of relief before diving in with their questions.
“How is he?” Angela demands.
Grady, just now coming fully awake and catching the tail end, inserts himself into the conversation, stepping beside Angela.
“Can we see him?”
“Not yet.” Dr. Anderson peels his green cap off, bunching it into his fist. “He had quite a few blockages and severe damage to his heart muscle during the heart attack. He’s in ICU recovering.”
“Is he awake?” Rhyson speaks for the first time, gripping my fingers almost painfully.
Dr. Anderson narrows his eyes on Rhyson before they widen with recognition.
“Mr. Gray, I didn’t know the patient was your father.” He offers a small self-deprecating smile. “Not that it makes a difference. I promise not to ask for your autograph. I just hope you haven’t been disturbed while waiting. We could have made arrangements for you to wait somewhere more private, had we realized.”
“It’s been fine.” Rhyson glances only briefly at Bristol, who spent an hour arranging for security and checking on media presence.
“To answer your question, no. He’s not awake,” Dr. Anderson continues. “Probably won’t be for the next few hours. And even then, he will be pretty groggy and unable to talk much. There will be lots of tubes, so prepare yourselves.”
“But he’s going to be okay now, right?” Fear and uncertainty mark Bristol’s face and voice for the first time. I’ve never seen her anything other than certain.
“He has a long road ahead of him. Maybe another week in the hospital and then as many as six of supervised recovery at home or in a facility. ” Dr. Anderson glances at his watch. “If you live nearby, I’d recommend you getting some sleep, change clothes, regroup, and then be here when he’s awake and ready to see you.”
“I’m fine.” Angela settles on a waiting room couch to prove that she has no intention of leaving. “I slept and ate on the plane. I want to be here if he wakes any earlier than you think.”
“He really shouldn’t, Mrs. Gray.” Dr. Anderson must see the stubborn tilt of Angela’s chin because he dips his head as a concession. “Very well, but if any of you need to freshen up, this would be the time.”
“Rhyson, you look dead on your feet.” Angela turns to assess her son. “You came straight from Chicago, right?”
“Yeah, and he was already exhausted.” Bristol pulls out her phone. “The security detail is downstairs. They’ve arranged a safe exit for you.”
“I am pretty fried.” Rhyson squeezes the bridge of his nose, briefly covering the dark shadows under his eyes. “Maybe I’ll zip home for a quick shower.”
“And a cat nap.” Angela frowns, reaching up to grab Rhyson’s hand. I’m close enough to sense how Rhyson stiffens, to see how his lips tighten at his mother’s touch.
“Okay.” He takes a step back, and Angela’s hand falls away empty.
She glances down at her hand, biting her bottom lip before pulling her mouth into the firm line I’ve gotten used to seeing even in the five minutes I’ve known her. She turns that blast of icy grey on me.
“And where are you staying, Kai?”
“With me.” Rhyson grabs my hand. “Wherever I’m staying.”
Angela pauses, glancing at Bristol before looking back to her son.
“Well, of course you’ll stay at the house, Rhys.”
“Then so will Kai.”
“I don’t want to be an imposition,” I protest. I didn’t think things completely through before I hopped on that plane with Grady. I just knew I needed to get to Rhyson.
“You won’t be,” Rhyson says. “There’s plenty of room, right, Mother?”
“Of course.” She pulls her phone from the black Celine bag at her feet. “I’ll just call Bertie and ask her to prepare one of the guest rooms.”
Angela raises her brows, like she’s waiting for Rhyson to challenge the suggestion of the guest room. She’s still trying to figure out what Rhyson and I are to each other.