13. Georgia

13

Georgia

Now

I an and I are sitting in a private waiting room at the hospital, both of us nursing cups of shitty hospital coffee as we wait to hear about my dad. Ian could have gone back with the rest of the doctors, but he chose to stay here with me.

I might have fallen in love with him a bit more, just for that kindness alone.

Mrs. Foster offered to stay with Auden, keeping her at their house in the back until we got home. I didn't want to drag her to the hospital for us, especially if we get bad news about my father. Auden just learned she has a grandfather. It would be too cruel to take him from her before she has the chance to get to know him.

That thought stops my heart.

Do I want Auden to have a chance to know him? Three days ago I was firmly rooted in my stance on leaving here as soon as possible, not letting her near my family here. Not wanting to taint her life with the ghosts of my past.

But is she not already making herself at home at Crane Manor? Intertwining herself into Ian's life. Mrs. Foster's life. My father's life...

What if I don't want to take her away from them now?

What if I don't want to leave?

Can the lies of my past destroy our chance at a real life here?

Would I give up everything I've worked for in California so that Auden might have a real family? A father who wants to be around us, even?

I wonder if my father would have tried harder to stay in my life if he had known he had a granddaughter. Or would the yearly birthday card he sent me have just turned into two instead?

These questions are on repeat in my head as I stare at the clock on the ceiling. It ticks loudly in the silence surrounding us. Each minute that passes feels like a minute closer to my world imploding.

There's a soft knock on the door. Ian jumps up, rushing to open it. I haven't really paid attention to him in the chaos of everything, but now I can't rip my eyes away from his pale, tired- looking face as the doctor walks in and closes the door firmly behind him.

"Ms. Harris?" The doctor walks over to me, blocking Ian from sight, and holds out his hand. I reach out and shake it. "I'm Dr. Marshall. I'm in charge of your father's care while he's here. Why don't we have a seat?" He gestures toward the chairs we just vacated.

"Is he going to be okay?" I ask, refusing to sit back down.

Dr. Marshall looks over at Ian.

"Stop looking at him, and tell me what's wrong with my father!" My voice cracks, warm tears slipping down my cheeks. Ian crosses the small room and puts his hand on my lower back. Professional, casual even. But it's enough to muster up some strength as I wait for Dr. Marshall to tell us everything.

"Ms. Harris, Dr. Foster. It looks as though your father suffered a heart attack. His heart rate has fluctuated greatly in just the last hour he's been here, and his breathing is labored. We'd like to keep him here overnight for more monitoring," he explains to us. "Dr. Foster, you said he's been recently ill? Can you tell me more about that?"

Ian's whole demeanor changes as he tells Dr. Marshall about my father's fall and his bouts of dizziness and lack of strength. He goes into full doctor mode, telling Dr. Marshall about my dad's course of treatment, his vitals over the last week, food he ate, liquids he drank. Ian's brain has the capacity to hold so much knowledge.

Very much like his daughter's.

"But he's going to recover?" Ian asks Dr. Marshall, who nods a firm yes at him. "A full recovery? Or will he have deficits or long-term side effects?"

"We can't say for certain, but based on your statement, it sounds like you got to him very quickly, so we don't expect there to be any long negative effects. Obviously, he will be at high risk for a repeat heart attack, but once his primary care physician works out his dosage of medications, we expect positive results."

"How long does he need to stay here?" I ask the doctor. "I can run home and grab him extra clothes and the essentials."

"I would like to keep him for at least three nights to monitor him. You're able to go see him now if you'd like though, Ms. Harris."

"I'll swing back around and check on him later this evening after we grab his things. Thanks, Dr. Marshall," Ian responds, shaking the doctor's hand before he bids us farewell with a quick wave and exits the room, leaving Ian and me alone once again.

"Can you call your mom and check on Auden while I go see my father?"

"Of course," Ian says kindly, opening the door for me. "Let me show you where his room is at. I'll meet you back in the lobby when you're ready."

I follow him through the maze of white walls that smell like disinfectant as we pass rooms with other patients. Some are sleeping, some look like they are in agonizing pain. None of them are my father's room, until Ian stops in front of a partially open door at the end of the sterile hallway. He reaches out and squeezes my hand before opening the door for me, letting me pass in silence.

My father looks like a man who just suffered a heart attack, tiptoeing the edge of death. Multiple wires attached to monitors are weaving in and out of his green hospital gown. There's an IV drip set up behind him, clear liquid in the tube dripping slowly before disappearing into veins. His skin is shallow-looking and ghostly pale.

Almost like he's getting ready to join my mother in the afterlife.

The white walls are decorated with various photos of outdoor scenes, acting like photos of cute bunnies will distract from the fact that you're in a hospital. The television mounted to the wall flashes brightly in the corner as Dad clicks the channel button on repeat until he finally settles on baseball. I walk across the small room and pull the hideous orange chair over to his bedside.

It takes Dad a moment to realize that I'm even here. His meds clearly make him groggy as his eyes struggle to focus on me. "Hey there, kid." His voice is garbled, like his tongue is too big for his mouth.

I reach out, putting my hand gently over his. "Hey, Daddy. How are you feeling?"

His eyes close slowly, then open again. "I've had better days. But I'm okay now that you're here." He coughs loudly into his free hand. "I didn't think you'd come. I know I haven't been the best father to you, especially after Caroline left us."

I grip his hand harder. "Oh, Dad, of course I'm here. There's nowhere else I'd rather be right now," I say truthfully. "I'm sorry it took you getting sick for me to brave coming back here. But I'm happy to be home. Happy to be here with you."

"You've always been brave, Bug. Just like your mother. She loved you so much."

I reach over to the bedside table and grab a tissue from the box sitting there, dabbing gently at my eyes. An angry laugh escapes as I roll my eyes. "Clearly not enough." I laugh out loud. "She did try to kill me after all."

Dad coughs again, his whole body shaking the bed with the force of each exhale. He shakes his head while he struggles to catch his breath. "No," he gasps. "No, she didn't, Georgia. I've never believed she was capable of it. She loved you more than life itself. I just haven't been able to put the pieces together yet." Another body-racking cough wrestles its way through his frail body.

The door behind me is thrown open. I turn expecting to see nurses rushing in like they do in the movies when the main character is coughing their lungs up like my father is. Instead, I'm greeted by Ian's father, Gabe Foster, who's wearing a fancy tan suit, much like the ones my dad wears to work. He's taking this whole interim boss thing a little too seriously.

"Link! I heard you found your way back into this joint!" Mr. Foster boasts loudly like he isn't in the middle of the ICU with other sick patients across the hall. He crosses the room and steps right up to the foot of the bed, his eyes landing directly on me. "And is this my little Georgia peach? My, have you grown! No wonder my boy is still waiting for you outside. Still got him wrapped around that dainty finger of yours, I see." He winks at me, flashing me a cocky, knowing smile. It leaves me feeling like I just bathed in dirty dishwater.

I get to my feet, reaching out to shake his hand when he throws his arms around me and pulls me close to him. He smells of sweat and something sickly sweet. I pull away politely, giving him a small smile while secretly wondering how Ian came out so humble compared to this man.

Mr. Foster has always been a boisterous man. His voice is always a touch louder than everyone else's in the room. His smile just a little too wide, too insincere. I always wondered how a meek and gentle woman like Mrs. Foster could fall for a man like him. But if life has taught me anything, you never know what people are truly hiding. Maybe she just hides her demons a little bit better than her husband does.

"Hey, Dad. I'm going to head back to the house and check on Auden. I'll grab some things of yours from home and come back later tonight, okay?"

My dad smiles at me, nodding his head before turning his attention back to Mr. Foster.

"Hey, Georgia," Mr. Foster says as I reach the door to leave. "I met that girl of yours. Cute kid." His gaze bores a hole into my soul, something wicked gleaming behind his green eyes. "Looks like a carbon copy of my sweet Irene. Don't you think so?"

"Yeah, a little—a little bit," I stutter. My father's eyes land on me, looking more confused than ever. "I'll stop by later. Love you, Dad," I say in a rush. "Bye, Mr. Foster."

During my emotional crisis, debating whether I want to keep Auden here so she can get to know her grandfather...I forgot that she has two of them.

If I tell Ian about who Auden truly is to him, I'm inviting his parents into her life as more than just acquaintances.

My stomach curdles with dread at the thought.

" Y ou look like you had a fun run-in with my dad," Ian says jokingly as I hop into his car. I'm sure my cheeks are red from being flustered, and my hair probably looks like a rat's nest after the forced hug from Mr. Foster. I shoot him a death glare in response, tugging the seatbelt over my body as I let out a groan of frustration. "That bad, hey?"

I blow a stray strand of hair out of my eyes. "No, it wasn't that bad. I just forgot how creepy he is in a suit," I answer back, a smirk settling on my lips.

Ian puts the car into drive, laughing loudly at my comment, navigating his way out of this hospital parking lot. Déjà vu hits me hard as we drive back toward Crane Manor.

"Ahh, always the creepster in the suit. But really, I hope he didn't say anything too out-of-pocket to you. We both know how he can be." Ian flashes a horrified look my way, making me laugh. After a day filled with stress and unknowns, laughing with him makes me feel like everything will be okay.

"He said he met Auden."

"Oh," Ian says, his face giving nothing away as he focuses on the road. "And what did he say about her?"

I gnaw at my lower lip, watching the fields of wildflowers pass us by in a colorful rush. I feel like I have this timebomb inside of me, just waiting to explode all over Ian. It's only a matter of time before I slip up and all my lies unravel around us.

"He said she looks like your sister." I sigh. I hate bringing her up with him because I know how her death destroyed him. Destroyed both of us, in different ways. My soul is stained forever, while his soul is missing its other half.

Ian's fingers drum loudly against the steering wheel as we pull up to a red light. I wonder what secrets he has burrowing in that brilliant brain of his, waiting to explode all over me, too.

"Want to go grab a cup of coffee before we head home? We can grab Auden a kids' meal for dinner if she'd like that?" Ian suggests, looking over at me with a hopeful smile. Not the reaction I was expecting after bringing Irene up, but I'm happy to switch the subject.

I look at the clock on the dashboard; it's already 6:00 p.m. The hospital nurse reminded me that visiting hours end at 9:00 p.m. and that nobody under twelve was allowed in the ICU. That gives us just enough time to grab food, pack a bag for Dad, get Auden to sleep, and still have time to make it back to the hospital. "Yeah, that sounds great. I'd like to put Auden to bed before going back to check on Dad. And I need to wash the smell of your dad's hug off of me, so maybe hit that gas peddle a little harder, Foster."

Ian flashes me one of those smiles that I swear was made just for me, the one that Auden most definitely got from him, then turns toward town.

Leaving me with another bout of déjà vu as both worry and hope eat at my insides.