Until Friday Night (The Field Party #1)(22)

Just to be sure she understood, I quickly texted her.

It’s me. Brady gave me your number. If I call, will you answer?

I pressed send then looked back up at her. She glanced down at her phone and I watched as she typed something. When her face lifted again to look down at me, my phone dinged.

Yes. If you need me, I’ll answer.

That was enough. I nodded and climbed into the truck to drive home and face my reality. I would sit and talk to Dad. I’d tell him about watching the game with the guys. And I’d tell him about Maggie. He’d like her.

When I opened the door to the house, it was quiet. The hospice worker was gone for the day. I locked up and headed inside. There was a note on the table from Momma telling me that she had made me a sub sandwich and left it in the fridge along with a fresh gallon of sweet tea. Dad had asked for her, so she had gone to lie down beside him.

I wasn’t hungry. I’d eaten two slices of cake earlier, and now knowing I wouldn’t get to talk to Dad tonight, I didn’t feel much like eating. But Momma would worry if she checked the fridge in the morning and saw the sandwich still there. So I fixed a tall glass of iced tea and took the sandwich and drink with me up to my room. I’d try to eat some before I went to sleep. If not, I’d make sure she never saw it wasn’t eaten.

I set my food down then walked quietly up the hall to stand outside my parents’ bedroom door and listen. There was silence. My dad used to snore, but he never did that anymore. He slept so quietly now. I used to lie in my bed at night, covering my ears, wanting him to stop snoring so I could fall asleep. These days I found myself wishing for his snoring. Just so I’d know he was still breathing.

My heart clenched at the idea of my dad no longer breathing. The panic and pain that came with that thought squeezed my throat, making it hard to inhale. I moved away from their door and went back to my room so I didn’t disturb my mother. Closing my door behind me, I placed both hands on the door to hold myself up as I hung my head and gasped for air.

I was going to lose him.

I knew that, but damn, it hurt so bad.

Every time I let the facts sink in, my emotions began to lose their grip. I felt my body tremble as tears blurred my eyes. How was I going to make it through life without my dad? I needed him. We needed him.

I managed to inhale sharply, and I coughed to clear my throat before pushing off from the door and walking over to my bed to sink down onto it. My phone pressed against my leg where I’d stuck it into my pocket.

Maggie’s face entered my thoughts, and without thinking about it, I pulled my phone out and scanned the contacts for her number.

She answered on the second ring.

“Hello,” she said softly.

It was late, but I knew the guys wouldn’t have left Brady’s yet.

“Were you asleep?” I asked.

“No. I’m still sitting right where you saw me last,” she replied.

I closed my eyes and pictured her up there in that window. Lost in her thoughts. In her solitude. She had spent so much time the past two years locked inside herself. Not talking to others. I didn’t like to think about it. The idea of her being alone hurt me. I understood it, but I wished I’d been able to be there for her the way she was for me. Maybe now I could be that friend she needed. Just like she was mine.

“Did you ever have times when you couldn’t breathe? When the pain was so intense, it squeezed your throat and held on tight?”

“Yes. It’s called a panic attack. I had them a lot. I haven’t since I moved here, though.”

So I wasn’t losing my mind. This was normal. “How did you deal with them?”

She sighed. “I didn’t at first. Once, I even passed out from not breathing. But I learned to think about something that made me happy. That gave me peace. I refused to let the pain control me. And the squeezing would ease up, and I could breathe again.”

She gave me peace. She was the only thing that had given me peace in a long time.

“Are you afraid to close your eyes at night?” I asked her.

“Yes. Because I know the nightmare will come. It always does.”

“Me too. I’m afraid he won’t wake up tomorrow,” I replied.

She was quiet for a moment. We both sat there and listened to the other breathe. Oddly, it was enough.

“One day that is what will happen, West. And it will be incredibly hard. But what you can do now is make the most out of the time you have left. Talk to him even if he can’t talk back. Hold his hand. Tell him everything you want him to know. So when he’s gone you don’t have regrets.”

Her mother had been taken from her without warning. And so had her father with his horrible, sick act. She’d lost it all just like that. She was right. I had time to make sure I didn’t have regrets.

“Do you have regrets?” I asked, already knowing the answer. I could hear it in her voice.

“Yes. So many,” was her soft reply.

I couldn’t imagine sweet Maggie having anything to regret. She was kind and gentle. It was hard to think of her being anything less than perfect.

“I’m sure you were the daughter every mother wanted,” I assured her. “I know yours had to have been very proud of you.”

She didn’t reply at first, and I was afraid I was making her talk about it too much. I had been focusing on her pain to forget mine. I hadn’t been careful enough.