Chapter 6

Just past noon on Wednesday, Zeke was eating lunch in the cafeteria with some coworkers. The braised short ribs on his tray had been cooked down soft and tender, but he had no appetite for them, his fork pushing rice around the plate without much purpose.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw his father Arthur's number.

His father rarely called at this hour, not unless something urgent had come up. A knot of unease tightened in Zeke's chest as he set down his fork and answered. "Dad?"

His father's voice came through, edged with worry, with some noise in the background.

"Zeke, can you get to the hospital right now? Your mother suddenly got dizzy, really bad, and threw up too. I just called an ambulance; we're at Ellenwood General Hospital. The doctor says it's her blood pressure; she needs to be admitted for a few days."

Zeke shot up out of his chair, the legs scraping harshly against the floor. Coworkers at nearby tables turned to look.

"Which department? I'll be right there," he said, already walking.

"Emergency. They just moved her up to the inpatient ward, third floor, cardiology," Arthur said, his voice steadying a little. "Don't rush, be careful on the road. The doctor said it's nothing life-threatening, just needs to be watched for a few days."

"Okay, I'll get my leave sorted and head over now."

He hung up and hurried back to the office.

Tammy was in the break room making coffee and, seeing the look on his face, came out with her cup still in hand. "Zeke, is something wrong?"

"My mother's been admitted to the hospital. I need a few days off," Zeke said, already gathering the papers on his desk.

"How serious is it?" Tammy's brow creased.

"High blood pressure, needs monitoring." Zeke had already grabbed his things and slung his bag over his shoulder. "Tammy, about the project."

"Don't worry about the project, I'll coordinate things." Tammy's tone was decisive. "Go take care of your mom. We'll sort out work when you're back. Let me know if you need anything."

Zeke nodded, thanked her hastily, and hurried out. He stopped at HR to file for leave, then drove straight to Ellenwood General Hospital.

Stopped at a red light, he checked the time: ten past one. Nikki should be at one of her stores right now, though he had no idea how busy she was. He called her.

The phone rang over the car speakers, once, twice, seven or eight times, and just as Zeke was about to give up, she finally picked up.

The background noise was loud, music, chattering voices, muffled shrieks and cheering, like she was somewhere lively. Nikki's voice came through it, sounding a little out of breath. "Hello? Zeke?"

Zeke frowned. "Where are you? Why's it so loud?"

"Huh? I'm... I'm at the store." Nikki's voice paused, the background noise dropping some, as if she'd covered the receiver or walked somewhere quieter. "We're doing inventory today; it's a bit chaotic. What's up?"

Zeke didn't dwell on it, his mind occupied entirely with his mother.

"Mom's been admitted, Ellenwood General Hospital, high blood pressure, needs monitoring for a few days. Can you come by after work?"

The line went quiet for two or three seconds. That brief pause made his heart sink a little.

"Admitted? Is it serious?" Nikki's voice carried real concern, but also an obvious note of reluctance. "Why so sudden... but on my end, inventory's crazy busy today. I might be here really late. Can I come first thing tomorrow morning? I'll take a half day off."

Zeke's grip tightened on the wheel. He watched the light ahead turn green and eased down on the gas, his voice level. "Fine, go ahead and handle things there."

"What room is she in? I'll go straight there tomorrow," Nikki asked.

"Third floor inpatient ward, cardiology, just ask the nurses when you get there," Zeke said. "I've got to go, I'm driving."

"Okay, be careful. Tell your mom I said hi."

The call ended. Zeke tossed his phone onto the passenger seat and focused on the road. The city scenery blurred past the windows, buildings, streets, pedestrians, all smearing into streaks of moving color.

He got to the hospital just before two. He parked and hurried into the inpatient building.

The smell of antiseptic hit him at once, the hallway lights a harsh, sterile white, elderly patients in hospital gowns shuffling slowly along while nurses pushed treatment carts past in a hurry.

In the cardiology ward on the third floor, Rose Griffin sat half-propped up in bed, her face a little pale, an IV line in her arm. Arthur sat on a chair beside the bed, peeling an apple.

"Mom." Zeke walked in, keeping his voice soft.

Rose looked up and smiled when she saw him. "Zeke, you're here. Your dad made a fuss over nothing and dragged you all the way here. I'm fine, just a little dizzy."

Zeke came to the bedside and studied his mother's face closely. "What did the doctor say?"

"Blood pressure's high, a hundred sixty over a hundred ten. Needs a few days to monitor and adjust her medication." Arthur handed the peeled apple to his wife. "She hasn't been taking her pills on schedule lately, and she worries too much."

"What do I have to worry about, besides the two of you." Rose took the apple but didn't eat it, just held it in her hands. "Zeke, have you eaten?"

"Yeah," Zeke lied. "Nikki said the store's doing inventory today and she can't get away. She'll be here first thing tomorrow to see you."

Rose nodded. "Let her focus on work, no need for her to make a special trip. It's just my old trouble acting up; I'll be fine in a couple of days."

Even as she said it, Zeke caught the faint flicker of disappointment in his mother's eyes. He knew she'd always been fond of Nikki and treated Nikki like her own daughter. When something like this happened, a daughter-in-law not showing up counted for something, and it stung a little.

"Dad, go home and rest," Zeke said to his father. "I'll stay here with Mom."

Arthur shook his head. "I wouldn't be able to sleep at home anyway. I feel better staying here. Someone needs to keep an eye on your mother's blood pressure."

In the end, father and son worked out a schedule: Zeke would stay during the day, Arthur at night. Zeke took five days of annual leave. That would be more than enough to see his mother through until she stabilized.

For the next three days, Zeke barely left the hospital. He arrived every morning at seven and stayed until his father came to take over in the evening. He fed his mother, helped her wash up, sat and talked with her, kept an eye on the IV drip, and called the nurse when medication needed changing.

Time moved slowly in the hospital. The light outside shifted from the gray of early morning to the brightness of noon, then slowly deepened into the warm gold of evening before finally sinking into the dark blue of night.

Nikki came by the second morning, around ten, carrying a fruit basket, dressed fairly formally, like she'd come straight from the store.

She stayed less than half an hour, taking three work calls during that time, and after the fourth, she told Rose with an apologetic look, "Mom, something urgent came up at the store. I need to head back and handle it. Please rest up, I'll come see you again tomorrow."

Rose held her hand. "Work comes first. Go on. Don't let it wait."

Nikki turned to Zeke too. "Thanks for handling everything. I'll come by again if I get off early."

"Mm," Zeke said.

She left in a hurry, the click of her heels fading down the hallway. She never came back to the hospital after that, just sent a text each day to ask how things were going, and Zeke replied briefly, "She's doing okay."

By the third afternoon, Rose's blood pressure had mostly stabilized, and she looked much better. When Arthur came to take over, the doctor said one more day of observation should be enough, and if nothing came up, she could be discharged the day after tomorrow.

Zeke felt some of the tension ease. Once his father arrived, he went to the hot water station to refill the thermos, and when he came back, his mother had fallen asleep, his father sitting at her bedside reading the newspaper.

The afternoon sunlight slanted through the window, laying bright patches across the floor.

He sat down on a bench in the hallway outside the room and took out his phone. He hadn't checked his social media in days, so he scrolled through absentmindedly.

Most of it was the usual: coworkers posting about overtime, friends posting food pictures, classmates posting their kids. None of it held his attention, his thumb just swiping mechanically upward.

Then he saw Scarlett's post.

Posted yesterday around four in the afternoon, was a grid of nine photos. The caption was [Weekend relaxation, amusement park time! The roller coaster was so intense!]

Scarlett loved having fun, so a post about the amusement park wasn't unusual. Zeke was about to keep scrolling when his thumb froze.

His eye had caught on the third photo.

It was a shot of the roller coaster, taken from below as Scarlett aimed her camera up. The coaster was plunging down from the top of the highest drop, the riders' faces twisted in every direction, some screaming with mouths wide open, others with eyes squeezed shut. The photo was a little blurry, but the shapes were still clear enough to make out.

Toward the middle of the car, slightly toward the back, sat two figures pressed close together.

Zeke's heart skipped a beat.

He tapped the photo, zoomed in, and zoomed further. His finger dragged the image, pulling that section as large as it would go.

The pixels started to blur, but they were still recognizable.

On the outside sat a young man in a white hoodie, his hair whipped wild by the wind. One hand gripped the safety bar tight, the other... wrapped around the waist of the person beside him.

And the person beside him wore a cream-colored knit sweater, her chestnut-brown hair whipping wild in the wind. Her face twisted with the momentum of the drop and something like fear, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in what looked like a scream. Her head had tipped instinctively toward the shoulder next to her, nearly burying itself in the white hoodie.

Nikki.

And Tyler.

Zeke's finger froze on the screen. He stared at that photo for a long, long time, long enough that the screen dimmed on its own, and he tapped it awake again to keep looking.

The timestamp on the photo read three twenty-one in the afternoon, yesterday.

Yesterday afternoon, Nikki had texted him: [Headquarters is doing an inspection today. Going crazy busy. Might be really late getting off. Don't wait up for dinner.]

Yesterday afternoon, a little past three, she'd been at the amusement park, sitting on a roller coaster, Tyler's arm wrapped around her waist, her head tucked against his shoulder, screaming.

And his mother-in-law, his mother, had been lying in a hospital bed on an IV drip that whole time.

Zeke felt the blood in his body turn cold, degree by degree, starting at his fingertips, spreading up through his arms, into his chest, until even his breath felt tinged with cold. He gripped the phone, his knuckles white with the pressure, his hand trembling faintly.

Down the hall, a nurse's cart rattled past, and somewhere further off, a television murmured in another room. All of it felt distant, muffled, as if a thick pane of glass stood between him and the world.

He slowly got to his feet, his movements a little stiff. As he walking back into the ward, his father looked up. "What's wrong? You look terrible."

"Nothing." Zeke heard his own voice come out, unnervingly calm. "Dad, I'm going to step out for a smoke."

Arthur blinked. He knew his son didn't smoke, never had, not even at formal work functions. But looking at Zeke's pale face and the hollow look in his eyes, he opened his mouth, then simply said, "Don't overdo it. Come back soon."

"Mm."

Zeke walked out of the room and down to the stairwell. There was hardly anyone around, just the pale green glow of the emergency exit sign. He didn't actually smoke, just stood by the window, looking out at the hospital's back garden.

The sun was setting, the sky washed in orange, the clouds edged with gold. The inpatient building's windows caught the warm light, glowing soft and peaceful.

But all Zeke felt was cold.

He pulled out his phone and opened the photo again. This time, he studied it slowly, missing no detail.

That cream-colored knit sweater Nikki was wearing… he'd gone with her to pick it out last month. She'd said she liked the color, that it made her look gentle. Tyler's white hoodie was some trendy brand's new release, not cheap.

In the photo, Nikki's hands gripped the safety bar tight. Tyler's arm wrapped tight around her waist. It was a protective posture, holding her almost entirely against him as the coaster plunged.

And Nikki hadn't pushed him away. She'd just squeezed her eyes shut and screamed, her head against his shoulder, the way any frightened girl would seek out the person beside her for comfort.

Zeke remembered a trip they'd taken to an amusement park last year. Nikki had ridden a roller coaster then too, and she'd been scared then too. She'd gripped his hand tight, buried her face against his arm, and once they got off, her legs had gone weak, and she'd hung off him, whining, "Never again."

Now, she was back on a roller coaster. But this time, the hand she gripped wasn't his. The shoulder she leaned on wasn't his.

And at that exact moment, his mother had been lying in a hospital bed, an IV dripping blood pressure medication into her arm.

Zeke turned off his phone and put it back in his pocket. He braced both hands on the windowsill, bowed his head, and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Something churned inside his chest, a dull, heavy ache that made it hard to breathe.

The stairwell was quiet, just the sound of his own breathing and, somewhere far off, the faint chime of an elevator arriving. Outside, the sky had dimmed further, the orange fading into deep blue.

He stood there a long time, until his legs began to go numb, before finally straightening up and rolling his stiff neck.

By the time he got back to the ward, his mother was awake, eating a bit of oatmeal his father had spooned to her.

Seeing him come in, Rose asked, "Done smoking? Not too much smoke smell on you, is there? Don't pick up your father's habit. It's bad for you."

Zeke walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I didn't smoke. Just stood outside for a bit."

"That's good." Rose smiled, relieved, then remembered something else. "Is Nikki busy today? Tell her not to rush to the hospital. Work comes first."

Something caught in Zeke's throat like it had lodged there. He nodded, his voice a little rough. "She's... pretty busy today."

"Young people being busy is a good thing," Rose said. "Just don't let her wear herself out too much. Zeke, you too, you've had a hard few days, you've gotten thinner."

"I'm fine." Zeke took his mother's free hand, the one without the IV. It was cold in his grip.

Arthur glanced at his son, then at the darkening sky outside the window. "Zeke, why don't you head home a bit early today. Take a shower, get a proper night's sleep. I'll stay with your mother."

"Dad..."

"Listen to me, go on home." Arthur's tone left no room for argument. "Come back tomorrow."

Zeke didn't push it. He really was exhausted, worn down in body and spirit both. He tucked the blanket in around his mother, reminded his father to call if anything came up, then picked up his bag and left the room.

The hallway lights were still that same harsh white, the antiseptic smell still just as sharp. He walked slowly, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

At the elevator, he pulled out his phone and opened his chat with Nikki. The last message was from four that afternoon: [How's Mom doing today? I'm swamped, might be late again.]

Sent at four-oh-five.

And at three twenty-one, she'd been on a roller coaster, another man's arm around her waist, her head against his shoulder, screaming.

Zeke stared at the message for a few seconds, then turned off the screen and put the phone away.

The elevator doors opened, and he stepped in, pressing the button for the ground floor. The metal doors slid shut, reflecting his pale, exhausted face.

The elevator descended, and the weightless drop of it hit him. In that instant, he suddenly remembered the feeling of a roller coaster plunging, the heart suspended, the blood rushing, the whole world turning upside down.

Turned out you didn't need to be sitting on a roller coaster to feel that.