and me. My current state of undress gives everything away. “So, when did this happen?”
“Last night,” I answer.
“We’d appreciate your discretion. Amelia’s father might not approve,” Jesse adds.
“No shit, Sherlock. You’re the staff, and she’s a princess. But no one is going to care because we have bigger issues going on right now.”
Jesse and I look at each other, wondering what she’s talking about.
“Your father’s in the hospital,” she states.
“What!” I gasp, feeling my heart pulsing under my skin and the dread shaking down my spine.
“You’d know if you checked your phone. I’ve been calling you all morning. He was shot, Amelia. Your father is in the hospital, and they don’t know if he’s going to live.”
Teeth are brushed, sweats are thrown on, and I even manage to grab matching sneakers that I tie in the elevator. Sienna and I leave in the back seat of her town car mere minutes after her announcement. Having her bodyguards coming up and seeing Jesse in my apartment was the last thing I needed right now. I can’t text him. I can’t call. I can just hope that he shows up at our meeting spot outside the hospital. I look in my bag and see he tossed in a phone charger and a banana. I can’t eat it though.
I’ve been so mad at my father the last few days. Between the revelation of his crimes, the secrecy, and his abandonment, I’ve cared little about him.
That’s all changed now.
“Any news?” I ask Sienna, who has her face buried in her phone. When I see the hesitation, I level my eyes with hers.
“He answered the door to accept a delivery when he was shot in the abdomen. I don’t know anything else.”
The drive to Manhattan takes forever. We still don’t know where our fathers have been hiding. Sienna said she heard mutterings about New Jersey, but that was all whispers. Regardless of where he’s been staying, my father was miraculously able to get to the best surgeon in the city.
By the time we get to the hospital, I’m a nervous wreck. We hop out of the car at the front entrance and rush inside. Sienna is beside me, continuously giving me updates that she is getting from her mom.
“She says to bypass the emergency room and go up to the fourth floor,” Sienna says as we stop at the security desk for our visitor passes.
“Must be nice, having the director of general surgery in your Rolodex,” I muse, not to the delight of Sienna.
My mother and sister are in the waiting room when we arrive. We spoke briefly once I saw the missed calls from them on my phone. All they wanted to know was that I was on my way.
I can barely see my mother because she’s swarmed by four of my aunts. A few of my uncles are on the other side of the room, looking distraught.
“Finally!” my mother cries when she sees me. “You should have been home. I wouldn’t have been sick with worry, waiting for you to arrive.”
“How is he?” I ask as I kneel beside her.
She’s holding on to the medal around her neck and grasping on to my aunt for support, as if she’d fall off the chair without it.
“He went into surgery an hour ago. I can’t take this. When will someone come out and tell me what is going on with my husband?” Her words are said loudly toward the desk, where a woman is sitting by a computer.
I pat her hand and breathe in a way that wills her to follow. “You need to try and relax. You’d be no good to Daddy if you gave yourself a heart attack with worry. Just breathe.” She follows my breathing pattern and seems to relax only a touch, making me wonder if they have any spare Valium in this place. “Have faith, Mom. Say a prayer. That always helps you.”
One of my aunts takes a prayer book out of her bag. “Saint Raphael is the patron saint of healing.”
Mom lets out a whimper. “How fitting. My wonderful Raphael is named after the saint he needs.”
She joins hands with my aunts as they sit beside her, reading the prayer to Saint Raphael in unison.
“Saint Raphael, the Archangel, arrow and medicine of Divine Love, wound our hearts, we implore you …”
My mother isn’t the most religious person, but she turns to prayer when times get rough. And when she loses the remote or the car keys or her e-cigarette.
Sienna