Dreamland(72)

It was midafternoon by the time we ventured out again to the pool area. Snagging chairs on the far side, I rounded up some towels. When the waitress came by, the girls ordered a pitcher of strawberry margaritas, along with five glasses. Apparently, it was time to celebrate.

It was then that I heard my phone vibrating on the small table beside the lounge chairs. Recognizing the name of my general manager, I put the phone to my ear.

Not thirty seconds later I walked away from the girls, the blood draining from my face.

In less than a minute, I felt almost sick, and by the time I hung up, I felt as though my world had come crashing down. I quickly dialed my sister, but there was no answer. The girls must have seen my expression when I finally returned to the chairs, because Morgan jumped up immediately and grabbed my hand.

“What happened? Who was that? What’s wrong?”

Lost in my own racing thoughts, I could barely get the words out.

“Toby,” I said. “The general manager at the farm. He told me that my aunt Angie had a stroke.”

Morgan’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God! Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I’ve got to get home….”

“Now?”

“My sister isn’t answering her phone.”

“So?”

I swallowed, praying that she hadn’t answered because she was with my aunt at the hospital. But I couldn’t help reliving the past, wondering if the worst was yet to come.

“She hasn’t called me, either.”

“What does that mean?”

With fear taking root, I could barely process her question. “Nothing good.”

In a daze, I kissed Morgan goodbye and ran back to my truck before gunning it to the condo. I tossed everything I’d brought into the truck and was on the highway less than ten minutes later.

In a normal situation, I was eleven hours from home.

I hoped to make it in less than nine.





With my foot mashed on the accelerator, I sped over the causeway to Tampa, Toby on speakerphone.

“Walk me through it again,” I said. “From the beginning.”

I’d known Toby all my life, and while he had always seemed unflappable, I could hear the strain in his voice.

“It was Tuesday morning,” he said after a beat, “and Angie was in the office when I arrived, just like normal. I updated her on the repairs to the irrigation system—we’ve been working on that—and then we met with the contractor at the greenhouse to go over the expansion plans. That took about an hour. After that, she went back to the office, and she appeared to be fine. If I’d known or even suspected something was wrong…”

“I’m not blaming you,” I assured him. “Then what happened?”

“Xavier went to see her right before lunch. There was a problem with the Mopack,” he said, referring to the egg-packaging equipment, “and he noticed that something was wrong with her eye. It was kind of drooping, and when he asked her about it, she mixed up her words. He was scared enough to call me, so I hurried over. Right away it was clear there was something wrong with her, so I called for an ambulance. When they arrived, they said she was having a stroke, so they rushed her to the hospital.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I assumed that Paige told you,” he replied, obviously flustered. “I called her right after I called for the ambulance, and she rushed over. She followed them to the hospital, and I know she was there while your aunt had surgery. As far as I know, that’s where she’s been ever since. I’m sorry.”

I realized that I was gripping the wheel so hard that my fingers were turning white, and I tried to force myself to relax.

“Surgery?”

“To remove the clot,” he clarified. “That’s what Paige said, anyway.”

“How’s my aunt doing now?”

“I haven’t spoken to the doctors—”

“When you’ve seen her, I mean,” I interrupted. “Is she conscious? Is she in ICU?”

“According to Paige, the surgery went well. Angie’s not in the ICU. She’s awake, but the left side of her face is partially paralyzed, so it’s hard to understand her sometimes. And her left arm and leg are really weak.”

“Is Paige with her? Right now?”

“I think so.”

“When were you last at the hospital?”

He must have heard my anxiety, because his words began to come even more quickly.

“I was there today, right before I called you. I stopped by for half an hour or so. But that was my first visit in a few days.”

“Did you see Paige there?”

“No, but where else would she be? She hasn’t been home lately. I went over a couple of times and even checked the barn.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“At the hospital earlier in the week.”

I was already speeding, but I accelerated, passing cars in a blur. Though it was dangerous, I used one hand to open Find My Friends on my phone, trying to locate Paige’s phone. I saw that hers was at our house and breathed a sigh of relief. A good sign.

Or was it?





   I called Paige next. It went straight to voicemail.