The Lost Fisherman (Fisherman #2)(4)

When I arrived, I called Rory.

“No news yet. He’s still in surgery. Did your interview go okay?”

“I’m here in Denver, at the airport.”

“What?”

“What hospital is he at?”

“Reese, there’s nothing you can do. I was planning on calling you as soon as he got out of surgery and we knew more.”

“Mom!” It was a rare time of me calling her Mom instead of Rory. “What. Hospital?”

“I’ll come get you,” she said in a calmer tone before ending the call.

Forty-five minutes later, Rose climbed out of the passenger’s seat when they pulled up to the curb. “We’re all praying for him,” she whispered when she hugged me.

I blinked back the emotions burning my eyes and nodded in lieu of actual words.

When we arrived at the hospital, Fisher’s family and other familiar faces from work crowded the waiting room.

His parents and siblings.

Hailey.

Angie.

We shared a few sober “hellos” before I tucked myself in the far corner of the room with Rory and Rose. And then we waited. When the doctor came out, his parents and Angie gathered in a circle around him. A collective sigh of relief could be felt. It was good news. He made it through surgery.

When we determined only family would be allowed to see him later that night, I went home with Rose and Rory to their new house.

“You didn’t move that far.” I found a small grin when they pulled into the driveway of the home that was maybe three blocks from Fisher’s house.

“This was a foreclosure. We basically stole it. Works great. We find ourselves taking a walk several nights a week and still ending up at Fisher’s house, drinking beer and wine on his front porch or the back screened-in porch.” Rory shrugged, shutting off the car. “What can I say, he’s family. Only …” She frowned. “Not enough to get to see him tonight.”

Rose squeezed my mom’s leg. “We’ll see him tomorrow.”

Rory nodded.

We ordered dinner, but none of us were that hungry. Instead, we shared funny Fisher stories as if he was dead and we were reminiscing about his life.

“Oh…” Rory drained the rest of her wine “…how’d your interview go?”

I shook my head while pouring another glass of wine for myself. Finally, I was able to join the real adults in the room. “I canceled it. Told them it was a family emergency.”

“I was a little surprised when you called from the airport,” Rory said. “I know you two worked together for a while, and I joked about you acting like siblings, but when was the last time the two of you even spoke?”

Rose gave me a nervous glance. I considered just telling Rory about Fisher and me. I was nearly twenty-four—what would she have been able to say or do at that point? I’d moved on. He’d moved on.

For whatever reason, with him in the hospital and engaged, I opted to wait. Maybe until a better time. Maybe never. Did it matter any longer?

“I don’t know … it was weird. I mean … it’s been years since we’ve spoken, but when you told me, it hit me hard. I’m not sure why. And I didn’t even think; I just canceled my interview and got the first flight to Denver. Maybe it’s because I know how close you are to him.”

“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see you, even if the circumstances are crappy.”

I nodded slowly. Would he be thrilled to see me?





The next morning, we made our way to the hospital after Rory talked to Arnie. He said Fisher was a little fuzzy in the head, but otherwise okay. The accident was just that, an accident in the rain. A large truck couldn’t stop and ran into Fisher.

When we reached the waiting room, Angie was in tears as Fisher’s sisters consoled her.

Did he take a sudden turn?

It wasn’t impossible. I’d seen my fair share of patients come out of surgery, seem stable and fine, only to flatline hours later.

Arnie broke away from the pack of women. “Long time no see. How have you been?” He gave me a hug.

“Good.” I lied. “Are you famous yet?”

He released me and chuckled. “Almost.”

“What’s going on?” I nodded to Angie and his sisters.

Arnie frowned. “Oh, my brother’s acting a little drunk that’s all. I’m sure it’s the pain meds. The doctors aren’t too concerned yet.”

“What do you mean he’s acting a little drunk?” I asked.

“Memory issues. He doesn’t seem to know everyone. Well, he knows me. Our sisters. Our parents. But nobody from work thus far. In fact, he doesn’t remember building homes. And…” he scrunched his nose and whispered “…he doesn’t recognize Angie at the moment.”

“Oh no.” Rory’s eyes widened as her jaw fell open.

“Come on, might as well see if he remembers his favorite drinking buddies.” Arnie smirked at Rory and Rose.

I followed the three of them to Fisher’s room.

“More visitors. Pretend like you recognize them.” Arnie teased Fisher as we filed into his room.

I stood behind Rory and Rose as they paused at the foot of his bed. I could only see bits and pieces of him.