Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Zena

I paced the hospital waiting room for what must have been the hundredth time, my eyes darting from the generic landscape paintings to the outdated magazines scattered on side tables. The ticking of the wall clock seemed to mock me with each passing second. It had been two hours since we arrived, and there was still no word on Dad's condition.

"What's taking so long?" I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.

Mom looked up from her seat. "Zena, honey, try to relax. Everything's going to be fine. This is a wake-up call, to let your father know he can't continue with this stressful lifestyle any longer."

Nolan patted the seat next to him, inviting me closer. "Come sit before you polish the linoleum to a mirror shine."

I sank into the chair, and Nolan immediately reached for my hand, his touch grounding me in the moment.

"You don't have to worry about your dad," he said. "He's probably giving the doctors a run for their money right now. I bet he's negotiating for extra Jello as we speak."

A giggle escaped me, surprising us both.

Nolan squeezed my hand. "Plus, this waiting room's emptier than a hockey rink in July. I'm sure he's getting the VIP treatment."

His words helped ease the knot in my stomach. I leaned into him, grateful for his steady presence.

"Thanks," I said. "I needed that."

Mom smiled gratefully at Nolan. "Yes, thank you, dear. Positive thoughts and a sense of humor are always encouraged instead of imagining the worst."

The doctor emerged from the double doors.

We all jumped to our feet, hearts racing.

"How is he?" Mom asked.

The doctor smiled reassuringly. "He's going to be fine. Our preliminary findings indicate he suffered a minor heart attack. We expect a full recovery, but he'll have to make some adjustments to his life, which will include diet, stress management, and being more active."

We all exhaled in unison as the doctor finished explaining Dad's situation. Forty-eight hours of observation in a private room was like a luxury vacation compared to the nightmare scenarios that had been racing through my mind.

"The nurse will advise you when he can have visitors," the doctor added before departing.

"See? All is good," Mom said, her voice warm and comforting. "The silver lining to something like this is it usually brings families closer together. You and your father can spend some much-needed quality time together, Zena." She paused, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Speaking of being together, now that we can breathe a little, we never finished our conversation about your wedding. I'm over the moon, truly, but I'm also baffled. Why in the world would you choose our anniversary as your wedding date? Did our vow renewal completely slip your mind? We were supposed to plan when we got back to San Diego."

Nolan and I exchanged panicked glances.

This was not a conversation I was prepared to have.

"Mom," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "there is no wedding. We only told Mitch that to get him off my back."

Mom's face fell faster than a soufflé in an earthquake. "Oh. Well, that's disappointing, I must say. You two are a perfect match."

"I agree we're right for each other," Nolan chimed in, squeezing my hand. "But Zena also made it abundantly clear from the beginning that no matter what happened between us, Mr. Dalton would kill me before we ever had a chance to walk down the aisle."

Mom laughed, the sound brightening the sterile waiting room. "Oh, please. He's all bark and no bite. I'm sure he'll tell you that you're from different worlds, but don't let that stop you. He and I were from different worlds, and except for his stubbornness on a few things, we turned out just fine."

As I watched Mom's face light up with memories, something seemed to strike her. Her brow furrowed slightly as she looked between Nolan and me.

"Wait a minute," she said slowly, her eyes narrowing. "If you two aren't engaged, what ring was Mitch talking about?"

The question hung in the air, and I felt my stomach drop. Just when I thought we were in the clear, it seemed we had some more explaining to do.

I opened my mouth to fabricate an explanation, but the words died on my lips as I caught sight of an unexpected figure entering the waiting room.

This can't be happening.

Mitch, of all people, was approaching us, Belle at his side and a teddy bear dangling from his fingers. I was about to unleash my fury on him for breaking our deal, but he held up his palm, silencing me before I could start.

"Hold on—I come in peace," Mitch said, his voice uncharacteristically subdued.

"You shouldn't be coming at all!" I hissed, barely containing my frustration. "You're supposed to be on your way to Tampa with the team!"

"Hear me out," Mitch said. "I have a good reason for being here."

My eyebrows shot up. This ought to be good.

"Coach Quinn gave me permission to take a separate flight," he explained. "I'm still playing in the game, so you can relax on that front. But I felt guilty about what happened to Mr. Dalton and had to come to see how he was doing."

Mitch? Feeling guilty?

That was a first.

"Why would you feel guilty?" I asked, genuinely perplexed.

He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "I'm sure I had something to do with his heart attack after I told him I was quitting."

Mom's face softened, and she patted Mitch's arm. "Don't beat yourself up about that. We all saw this coming a long time ago, and I can guarantee you this had nothing to do with you. If anything, Everett's been working himself up to a good heart attack for years. Too much rich food and cigars, too much sitting, and enough stress for a thousand lifetimes. You just happened to be there for the grand finale."

Mitch's shoulders visibly relaxed at her words.

Mom continued, "Your being here and showing you care means so much. Everett will be touched when he hears about it. Yes, this terrified us, but the good news is, he's doing well. The doctor just told us."

"I'm glad to hear that," Mitch said, then awkwardly thrust the teddy bear in my direction. "Please give this to your dad."

I accepted it, finding it odd that he'd bought a stuffed animal for a man in his sixties. Still, the gesture itself spoke volumes.

"Thank you for coming, Mitch," I said sincerely.

Belle smiled. "We're glad Mr. Dalton is going to be okay."

"Thanks so much," Mom said.

I watched them go, and my mind reeled from the day's events. Just when I thought I had Mitch figured out, he went and did something like this. Maybe there was still hope for him yet.

As we waited to see Dad, the anticipation thick in the air, a nurse entered the waiting room, clipboard in hand, reading off her chart.

"Elena Dalton?" she called out.

We all stood, and Mom raised her hand.

"That's me," she said.

The nurse smiled kindly. "You can see Everett now. He's on the fifth floor, room five-one-one-five. The elevator is down the hall on the left."

"Thank you," I said.

Nolan's face lit up. "Five-one-one-five? It's good luck."

I turned to him, eyebrow raised. "Why?"

"It's a palindrome, the same backward and forward," he explained.

"Do you really believe in that?" I asked, skeptical. "The good luck thing?"

Nolan smirked. "Today, for your dad, I do."

"Me too," Mom chimed in, her voice filled with hope.

We made our way to the elevator and up to Dad's room. As we entered, we found him fiddling with the TV remote, muttering under his breath.

"Can you believe this?" he complained. "I can't seem to find one channel that has the latest on the stock market!"

To my surprise, Nolan stepped forward.

"I can help with that," he said, taking the remote from Dad's hand.

"Thank you—I appreciate it," Dad said.

Nolan pointed the remote at the TV, promptly turning it off. He set the remote out of reach from the bed and grinned.

"There you go," he said.

Dad stared at him, dumbfounded.

Mom and I burst into laughter.

"You think that's funny?" Dad asked, indignant.

"Yes!" Mom and I chorused, still giggling as we went to kiss him.

"We were so worried about you," I said, squeezing his hand.

"Yes—we were," Mom said, giving him a kiss. "But it looks like you are going to be just fine."

Nolan approached, offering a handshake. "Glad it wasn't serious, sir."

Dad huffed. "I'm not talking to you until you give me back that remote."

"Good," Nolan retorted. "We'll finally get some peace."

More laughter erupted from Mom and me.

Dad glared at Nolan for a moment before chuckling. "You've got some serious backbone, son. It's a good thing for you I find that a positive trait."

"That's one of the things I love about him," I said without thinking.

Suddenly, all eyes were on me.

"Did you just say you love Nolan?" Mom asked.

"No!" I squeaked, my voice unnaturally high. "I love things about him! Like his shoes! I love his shoes!"

I was making it worse.

I needed to shut up.

"There are certainly a lot of things about Zena that I love," Nolan said.

"That's becoming quite apparent," Dad grumbled.

What did he mean by that?

Mom patted his arm. "Did the doctor tell you that you need to make some changes to your lifestyle?"

Dad nodded solemnly. "He did, and I agree."

I crossed my arms. "How come when we told you, you ignored us, but when the doctor told you, you agreed?"

He shrugged. "I should have listened to you. And I'll tell you something, it's funny what can pass through your mind in the back of an ambulance as you're contemplating if you're going to die. You wonder when you stopped appreciating the little things in life, the things all around you. The smell of fresh-cut grass, laughter, a bowl of popcorn and a classic movie, even the sound of birds singing in the morning. It shouldn't take such a drastic event to realize that time is a more precious commodity than anything money can buy." He paused, his expression serious. "I'm going to make some big changes, which includes reducing my stress. I've already decided I'm going to sell off a few companies. I also want to be more involved in the Sea Lions Foundation, if you don't mind, Zena."

"Of course, Dad," I said, touched. "I'd love that."

"I must also mention that I'm terribly embarrassed I skipped the last three family vacations because of work," he added. "That ends today. We're going to plan the biggest vacation you could ever imagine, and we'll leave the day after the hockey season ends. I promise."

Mom's face lit up. "Oh, Everett, that's wonderful!"

"I agree!" I said.

I felt a warmth spreading through my chest. This health scare seemed to be exactly what our family needed to bring us closer together, like Mom suggested.

"Nolan, I'd like to speak to you in private," Dad said.

Mom's protective instincts flared. "Don't you start, Everett. Leave him alone. He has done nothing but help us."

Dad raised his hands in mock surrender. "It's not what you think. I promise I'll be on my best behavior. Besides, it's quite obvious by now that Nolan can stand up for himself."

I turned to Nolan, concern etched on my face. "We'll be outside if you need me."

Dad nodded. "Close the door behind you."

As Mom and I stepped into the hallway, I couldn't help but wonder what Dad was up to. "Any idea what he wants to talk about?"

Mom waved it off. "It doesn't matter, boys will be boys. But now that we have some privacy, tell me what's going on with you and Nolan. Are you in love?'

I felt a smile spread across my face, warmth blooming in my chest.

"There's no doubt about it, even though I haven't told him yet," I admitted. "I don't know how it's even possible. This is crazy."

Mom's expression softened. "Remember that your Grandma Alice and Grandpa Chris fell in love on their first date, and they're still going strong after sixty years. Don't overthink it. Love doesn't always follow a set timeline or pattern, sweetheart. Sometimes it sneaks up on you, and when it's right, it clicks into place."

"Well, you know Grandma and Grandpa inspire me every day," I said, then glanced at the door, curiosity gnawing at me. "I really want to know what they're talking about."

Mom chuckled. "Relax, honey. I'm sure it's nothing earth-shattering. And like your father said, Nolan's more than capable of holding his own."

It was only a few minutes later when the door opened, and Nolan stepped out looking shell-shocked as he closed the door behind him.

"Are you okay? What happened?" I asked, alarm rising in my voice.

Nolan glanced back at the door, confusion written all over his face. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally speaking.

"Did Mr. Dalton hit his head when he fell?" he asked.

"No, why?" I pressed.

Nolan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Your father knows about us, that we have feelings for each other. He also asked what my intentions were with you."

I groaned, covering my face. "I can't believe he did that."

"That sounds like Everett, always protective of his baby girl," Mom said.

"Did he threaten to feed you to the Zamboni?" I asked.

"Surprisingly, no," Nolan said.

"What did you tell him?" I was burning with curiosity, crossing my arms with a grin. "What are your intentions with me?"

Nolan smirked. "That's on a need-to-know basis, and right now, you don't need to know."

I shook my head in amusement. "You're a cruel man."

"I'm a certified monster," he said. "But this is the craziest part of all. He invited me to join you on your family vacation at the end of the season."

My eyes widened. "Are you sure we're talking about the same Everett Dalton?"

"Nobody is more shocked than me," Nolan said. "He said he wants to get to know the guy who has stolen his daughter's sanity."

"He did not say that!" I playfully swatted his arm. "And hey, my sanity was questionable long before you came along."

"That explains so much," he teased, dodging another swat.

Mom chimed in, "This is wonderful! Nolan, you've clearly made quite an impression."

"It's a gift or a curse, depending on the day," Nolan winked. "Mr. Dalton wants me to head back to San Diego for now. He said he really needs to spend the next couple of days with you both, which I think is a great idea. I'm going to grab my things from the hotel and catch the next flight back."

Mom gave him a hug. "Safe travels, Nolan. We'll start planning the surprise vow renewal when I get back."

"Sounds good," he said.

"I'll give you two some privacy to say goodbye." Mom entered Dad's room and closed the door behind her.

"So," I began, "I guess this means I'll have to find someone else to annoy for a few days."

"Good luck finding someone as tolerant as me," Nolan quipped.

We shared a laugh, then stood there in silence, hands intertwined, the weight of the impending separation settling over us. Neither of us wanted to be the first to say goodbye.

Finally, he pulled me into a hug and kissed me gently. As he pulled back, he looked into my eyes and said, "Zena, I …"

My heart skipped a beat. "Yes?"

Was he going to say it?

Nolan hesitated, not finishing the sentence.

"You what?" I asked.

It felt like he was going to say it, but changed his mind. Was a hospital really such a bad place to say "I love you" for the first time? Sure, it wasn't the most romantic place in the world, but deep down, I was hoping he would say it anyway. I almost wanted to say it myself, so I could hear him reciprocate. The three words danced on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them back. There would be time for that later, I told myself.

Nolan blew out a breath. "I guess I'll see you in San Diego when you get home. Oh …" He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out Dad's ring, handing it to me. "Keep this safe. Guard it with your life."

"I will," I said.

"How about we do a video chat tomorrow?" he asked.

I nodded. "I'd like that very much."

"Good—I'll let you get back to your dad. Until we meet again … I'll miss you." He kissed the top of my hand this time and then walked toward the elevator.

As I watched him disappear, I whispered, "I love you too, Nolan."

The words hung in the air, unheard by their intended recipient.

I stepped back into the hospital room and was struck by a scene that made my heart melt. Mom sat by Dad's bedside, her hand gently cradling his. Their eyes were locked in a gaze so tender it felt almost intrusive to witness. Mom's smile was soft and radiant, filled with a love that had weathered decades and only grown stronger. Dad's face, despite his ordeal, was lit up with an adoration that matched hers. It was a moment of pure, unguarded affection, a glimpse of the deep connection they'd had, but somehow temporarily had lost.

I cleared my throat and tried to sound casual when I said, "So, what did you and Nolan talk about, Dad?"

He shrugged, but his eyes twinkled mischievously. "Sports, the weather, the abysmal TV selection in this place."

I rolled my eyes. "Come on, Dad. Spill."

"We had a fascinating discussion about remote control technology and how it works much better when I have it in my hands," he deadpanned.

"Dad!" I groaned, exasperated but amused.

I had to admit, it was nice to see this playful side of him return.

Mom chimed in, "Everett, stop teasing her."

"I'm not teasing," he protested innocently. "We really talked about the remote. It's a very important topic, but the stubborn man would not hand it over."

I narrowed my eyes at him, ready to give him a question that was much more direct. "And Nolan's intentions with me? What did he say about those?"

A smile formed on his face—he was clearly enjoying this. "If you want to know so badly, ask him yourself."

I threw my hands up in defeat. "Fine, keep your secrets. But remember, I'm in charge of your Jello intake for the next forty-eight hours."

Dad gasped theatrically. "Threatening a sick man's Jello supply is cruel and unusual punishment. I raised you better than that. What's next, stealing candy from babies?"

We all burst into laughter, the tension of the day finally breaking. As frustrating as Dad could be, moments like these reminded me how lucky we were to still have him here with us, cracking jokes and smiling, like he had done when I was younger.

"All right, you win this time," I conceded. "But don't think this is over."

Dad grinned. "I wouldn't believe that for even a second."