Roadside Assistance (30 page)

“Eat,” Zander said, sitting across from me.

“Thanks.” I unwrapped a sandwich and took a bite, followed by a long drink of Coke.

“Talk to me,” he said. “You look as if you might explode if you don’t.”

I shook my head and breathed out a deep, ragged breath. “I feel like I’m stuck in a terrible nightmare that started last night.”

“Were my kisses that bad?” he asked with a grin.

My cheeks burned. “Actually, your kisses were the only thing that went right last night.”

Reaching over, he took my hand in his, and warmth shot through my veins at his touch. “Start from the beginning. I’m listening.”

My eyes filled with tears. “After I talked to you last night,” I began, “I had the biggest argument ever with my dad and
Darlene. I just can’t bear the thought of losing him after the things I said.” I sniffed and wiped my eyes.

“Look at me.” His eyes were full of determination. “You’re not going to lose your dad. The nurse said nothing about him dying, right?”

“Right,” I murmured, wiping away fresh tears.

“Your father has the best orthopedic surgeon in this hospital working on him. Even the nurse confirmed that. Your dad is in very good hands, and he’s not critical. The only question is whether or not he’ll lose the function of his arm, but my dad will do everything he can to repair it.” He squeezed my hand. “Right now you need to have faith that he’s going to get better. Your job is to think about what you want to say to him when you see him in recovery.”

“I just wish I could take back what I said to him last night,” I whispered. “It was horrible.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Zander asked.

In between nibbles, I shared what happened when I entered the kitchen last night. He listened, his kind eyes focused on me. When I finished the story, I took a long drink of soda.

Zander stuffed a fry in his mouth, and I waited for him to speak.

“I’m sure you have an opinion,” I finally said. “You think I’m awful for what I said to Darlene.”

“Why would you say that?” he asked.

“Because you are everyone’s friend,” I said. “You’re practically perfect.”

He snorted. “Is that really what you think of me?”

“You’re everything I wish I could be,” I said. “You never doubt God. You’re not jealous of your brother, who is the apple of your father’s eye. You’re just happy-go-lucky and satisfied with everything that comes your way. I wish I had your strength.”

“Are you finished eating?” he asked.

I glanced at the tray and my half-eaten sandwich. “I couldn’t eat another bite if I tried.”

“I want to show you something.” He tossed the remnants of our lunch into the trash can and then took my hand in his. We walked back into the corridor and then he led me into a small chapel.

We sat together in the last row, and I was thankful that the chapel was empty. There were half a dozen rows of pews, and a small altar sat up front before a cross and paintings of Jesus on the wall.

“I spent a lot of time in here when my grandfather was in the hospital,” he said. “Coming in here gave me comfort.”

I stared at the cross and silently pleaded with God to watch over my dad.

“You may think I’m perfect, but I’m not,” Zander said. “I’ve had my share of doubts, and I’ve had my share of screaming matches with my dad. I also used to resent my brother, but I finally made a decision that I wasn’t going to live in his shadow anymore. I am who I am, no matter what my father thinks.”

I twirled a curl around my finger and studied the thighs of my jeans while his words soaked through me.

“I’ll never understand why you doubt yourself so much,” he said while rubbing my back. “You don’t see how amazing you truly are.”

I gnawed my lower lip and turned back to the cross, wondering how much was safe to share. Then something Zander had said to me when we argued on Halloween echoed in my mind:
You choose to live in this bubble where you close out everyone who cares about you and wants to help you. You’d rather wallow in self-pity than see how God is trying to reach out to you.

A question surfaced in my mind: Was it time for me to let Zander in completely?

“I dated a boy before I moved here,” I began, my words coming without much forethought. “It was Tyler, the guy who owned that Nova I fixed. He worked in my dad’s shop. I thought we were in love, but I was wrong. Shortly before we moved he broke up with me. He said I was a really cool girl, but he wasn’t attracted to me that way. He said we should just be friends.”

“Ouch,” Zander said with a grimace.

“I guess he sort of soured me on dating and trust,” I said.

“I’m sorry he did that to you, but you can’t let him hold you back from someone who cares for you.” He touched my arm. “And, for the record, he’s a total moron.” A smile formed on his lips. “I think you’re really cool, and I would like to be
more
than friends.” He pushed an errant curl back behind my ear. “Would you be my girlfriend?”

My heart thumped in my chest. “Yes.”

“Awesome.” His lips brushed mine, and for a brief moment, all of my worries and problems evaporated. When he looked down at me, his eyes were filled with warmth and comfort. “Do you want to pray together?” he asked. “I mean, if you don’t want to —”

“No, that would be nice,” I said.

He took my hands in his, and we closed our eyes. Zander whispered a prayer asking God to watch over my dad, give the doctors wisdom and skill, and give me strength and faith.

Once he was finished, his phone chimed. He read the text and then stood, pulling me to my feet. “You have company in the waiting room.”

chapter twenty

I
entered the waiting room grasping Zander’s hand. Scanning the room, my mouth gaped as I found my family, the guys from the body shop, Chelsea, Pastor Keith, Jenna, and a host of kids from school, including Chad, Monica, Tiffany, and Kristin. There were also kids from youth group — some of the faces familiar and others not.

“Why are all of these people here?” I whispered to Zander.

“Because they’re worried about you and your dad,” he said with a smile. “You don’t realize how many people really care.”

A mixture of emotions surged through me at the sight of so many people. Zander pulled me toward the group, and Darlene and Whitney approached us.

“Emily!” Darlene pulled me into her arms. “Oh, honey. We’re so sorry about the accident. We got here as soon as we could.” She cupped my face with her hands. “Are you all right?”

I studied her brown eyes, wondering if she was still miffed at me. I didn’t see any sign of anger, but how would she feel about me when my father was better?

“Emily?” Dropping her hands from my face, she looked confused. “Are you all right? Do you need to sit?”

“I’m okay,” I said. “I’m a bit shaken up, but I think I’ll be okay.” I grasped Zander’s arm. “Zander’s dad is one of the surgeons, so I believe my dad’s in good hands.”

“Good.” Darlene gave a forced smile and patted my arm. “We’ve got to trust God now. He’ll take care of everything.”

Whitney pulled me into a hug, and I held onto her. “My mom’s right, Em. God will watch out for your dad. From what I’ve heard, the accident could’ve been much worse.”

Chelsea weaved through the crowd and hugged me next. “I’ll stay with you all night if you need me to,” she whispered in my ear.

“Thanks,” I said. I stood in the same place for what seemed like an hour, accepting hugs and good wishes from friends, acquaintances, and total strangers who introduced themselves as members of my “church family.”

Pastor Keith instructed us to form a circle. I stood between Chelsea and Zander and across from Darlene, Whitney, Logan, Chuck, and a host of friends and acquaintances. Once we were all holding hands, Pastor Keith said a prayer for my father and the doctors.

As the afternoon wore on, the nurse came out and gave an update, explaining that the doctors were sewing my dad up and it would take another hour or so before he was out of surgery. I sat between Zander and Chelsea on the sofa and stared at reruns of some old sitcom on the flat screen, wondering how long this day could possibly last.

After nearly two hours, the nurse appeared again. With a smile, she took my hand and pulled me to my feet. “Your father is in recovery. He made it through fine.”

A cheer went up throughout the waiting room, and I hugged the nurse.

Turning, I found myself in Zander’s warm embrace.

“I told you to trust God,” he whispered.

Before I could respond to him, Darlene pulled me into a hug, followed by Chelsea and then Whitney.

Once the hugs were complete, I turned back to the nurse. “When can I see him?”

“It will be a little while,” she said. “He just got to recovery and has to come out of the anesthesia.” She squeezed my hand. “I’ll come and get you as soon as it’s time.”

The crowd in the waiting room dissipated. Friends from school and youth group slowly left, promising to call or text later to see how he was doing. I thanked them all for coming and promised to keep them updated.

Zander, Chelsea, and I made a trip to the cafeteria around six and ate pizza. Chelsea kept my mind occupied by chatting about her current costume project and the cute boy on the stage crew, who now knew Chelsea’s name and frequently made small talk with her.

Later, we sat in the waiting room and watched the news. I leaned against Zander and closed my eyes, hoping to catch a nap before going into my dad’s room. Around seven, the nurse came back out and said family members could come back.

I hugged Chelsea. “You should go home,” I said.

She shook her head. “You need me. I’m staying.”

“Don’t be silly. I’ll be fine here.” I motioned toward the door. “Go home and get some rest. You can come back and keep me company tomorrow. He’ll probably be moved to a regular room, and you can sit with me and watch the news and old sitcoms for hours there.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Positive.” I walked to the door with her. “Thank you. I couldn’t have made it without you.”

“I doubt that. You have Zander to keep you company,” she whispered. “There’s nothing like eye candy to keep up your spirits.”

I felt my cheeks heat, and I chose to ignore her comment. “Get on home. I’ll call you later. I have lots to tell you.”

“Really?” she asked with a grin.

“Yes,” I whispered. “He kissed me and asked me to be his girlfriend.”

She squealed, and I shushed her. “I promise I’ll call you later,” I said.

“Promise?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” I said.

She said good-bye and hurried through the doors to the parking lot.

I walked over to Zander. “I wish you could come back there with me.”

“I’ll wait here for you,” he said, locking his eyes on mine. “I’ll text my dad and see if he can get me permission to come back. He has some pull around here.”

“Good.” I took a deep breath.

“Go on,” Zander said. “It’s going to be okay. I promise you.”

A warm hand took mine. “I’ll come with you,” Darlene said.

I gave Darlene an unsure expression.

“Come on,” she said. “We need to let him know we’re here.”

Darlene and I followed the nurse through several doors and down two hallways to a small room. I found my dad in the bed, his left arm covered in a bandage. His skin was pale, almost gray, and his eyes were dull. My body began to tremble, and a lump swelled in my throat.

He gave us a forced smile. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said, his voice a mere whisper.

I felt a glimmer of hope —my dad still had his wacky sense of humor. He was going to be okay.

“He’s a little groggy from the anesthesia and the pain medicine,” the nurse said quietly. “I’ll be down the hall if you
need me.” She disappeared out of the room, closing the door behind her.

“We’ve been worried about you,” Darlene said, standing over him. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’ve been better,” he croaked. His eyes fell on me. “Baby Doll.”

“Hey, Daddy.” I rasped, tears trickling down my cheeks. “You scared me to death.” I tried to smile, but my lips formed a thin line. “If you ever put me through anything like this again, I’ll beat your behind.”

He tried to laugh but coughed instead and then winced. “Wow,” he mumbled, his voice gravely. “This scratch hurts a bit.”

“You should take it easy,” Darlene said, touching his good hand. “Don’t work so hard to talk.”

I lowered myself into a chair next to his bed and cleared my throat. Memories of sitting next to my mother’s hospital bed a year ago flashed through my mind. Glancing down, I found my hands shaking and I hugged my arms to my chest, trying to force my body to calm down.

“I wonder how long I’ll be stuck in this place,” my dad said, his voice a little stronger. “I guess they don’t send you home the same day when you slice open your arm like I did, huh?”

“I would imagine it will be a few days,” Darlene said, sitting in a chair across from me. “You need to only worry about getting better.”

His brown eyes studied me, and I wondered if he was still angry about everything I’d said last night. Guilt rained down on me, and I gnawed my bottom lip.

“So, how was your day?” he asked, but the mirth seemed forced.

I knew he was trying to lighten the mood, but nothing could hold back my tears. Once I started crying, I couldn’t stop. The
tears flooded my cheeks, trickling onto my coat. I cried for my dad, for losing my mom, and for myself. Everything I’d had pent up all day came out at once. I hugged my middle but couldn’t quell my body from shaking.

He reached for me and then winced.

Darlene stood. “I’ll give you two some time alone.” She patted my back. “I’ll be in the waiting room.” She disappeared through the door, closing it gingerly behind her.

“Don’t cry,” he said. “I’m going to be fine.”

I snatched a handful of tissues from the box by his bed and wiped my eyes and nose. Taking deep breaths, I willed myself to stop sobbing.

“You could’ve died today,” I whispered. “And I never would’ve had a chance to say I was sorry.”

“Shh,” he said. “You need to stop worrying.”