me here.”
“Thanks, George,” Dad says, and shoots George a smile. Then Dad turns back to look at me. “Now, it’s not a big deal and I don’t want you to freak out, Emma. But there’s just a minor problem with the old ticker.” He thumps his palm lightly against his chest, then grimaces a little.
A problem...with his heart? And he passed out?
“Did you have a heart attack?” I shriek at him. He opens his mouth, then closes it, like he’s considering how to sugarcoat things for me. “Dad! Tell me what’s going on,” I yell at him.
“A very, very small heart attack,” he finally admits. “There’s a little blockage, and the doctor’s going to do a minor procedure, put in a stent tomorrow morning. Then they say I can go home tomorrow afternoon, good as new.”
“Dad! You could’ve died.”
“But I didn’t,” he says. “I’m right here, Em.”
“You have to take better care of yourself.”
He chuckles a little. “I told the doctor you were going to say that.”
“This isn’t funny!” I yell at him again, but I’m so relieved that he’s here, that he’s breathing and talking to me. I try and focus on the words he just said. Small. Minor.
He holds out his arms again, and I stand up and give him another hug. He strokes my hair back with his hands. “I know,” he says. “But I’m fine. I’m not going anywhere. I promise you, Em.”
* * *
I want to spend the night at the hospital with Dad, but he insists that I go home, sleep in my own bed and get my homework done, though I don’t know how I’ll be able to concentrate on anything. I refuse to leave until I hear what Dad already told me directly from the doctor—that he will be fine, and that the procedure he’ll have in the morning is fairly routine and minor.
My hands are still shaking nearly two hours later as we ride the elevator back down, and George insists he’ll drive me home. I tell him I’ll be okay if he goes to his house first. I am capable of driving the whole mile back to my own house, but he says he’s coming over and he’ll text his mom to pick him up on the way home from work. I don’t argue with him, because the truth is, I feel grateful for his company. I don’t think I want to be alone.
It’s dark outside, and already after seven by the time we get to my house. I know I need to FaceTime Izzy and tell her what’s going on, but I need to calm down a little more first. I don’t want to freak her out, too. Not when she’s 2,764 miles away from home, and Dad.
“You hungry?” George asks as we walk inside my kitchen and I flip on the lights.
“Not really,” I say. My body and my mind are still numb and shaky, and it’s hard to feel anything else, hard to remember anything else. “Are you?”
“A little. And you should probably eat something. I’ll order us a pizza.”
“Sure, whatever you want.”
George orders it on his phone, and he doesn’t even comment on my mushroom and olives. When he’s finished he grabs me a glass of water and puts it on the table. “Have some water,” he says. “Take a deep breath. I know this is scary and unexpected. But everything’s okay.”
I smile at him, take the water and force myself to take a few sips. “Hey, thanks for taking me to the hospital today, and just...being here now.” For a few hours I forgot about everything else—school, and coding club, and our app. And George and Hannah’s date on Friday. And all there was, was my worry about Dad. And George, who was being so kind, trying to help me.
“Of course,” George says. “You would’ve done the same for me.”
I nod, hoping I would’ve known that was the right thing to do, if the situation were reversed. “It’s weird,” I tell him. “I was so young when my mom died, but I still have this memory of waiting in the hospital waiting room with Dad and Izzy, finding out she wasn’t okay. And even the idea of stepping in a hospital has freaked me out ever since. Honestly, if you weren’t there, I feel like they would’ve needed to admit me, too.”
George smiles, puts his hand on top of mine reassuringly. “I’m just glad he’s going to be okay.”
“Me, too,” I say.
We sit there and