But Ruth called again.
When Claire answered, Ruth sounded strained.
“Claire, I’m sorry to bother you.”
“What is it?”
“It’s your father.”
Claire sat on the edge of the bed.
“What about him?”
“He was taken to the hospital yesterday afternoon.”
Michael looked up from his suitcase.
Ruth explained that Thomas had collapsed at a gas station outside Bellwether. An ambulance had transported him to the hospital, where doctors discovered he had suffered a serious cardiac event.
He was alive, but his condition remained unstable.
Claire listened without interrupting.
Then she asked, “Why are you telling me?”
Ruth was silent for a moment.
“Because he’s your father.”
“He hasn’t been my father in eighteen years.”
“Claire.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know. I just thought you should know.”
Claire ended the call.
Michael sat beside her.
“Is he all right?”
“Apparently not.”
“Do you want to go?”
“No.”
Michael nodded.
He returned to packing, but after several minutes, he noticed that Claire had not moved.
She was staring at the suitcase.
“Claire?”
“He came to the wedding.”
“I know.”
“And then he had a heart attack.”
“Yes.”
She pressed her palms together.
“If I go now, he’ll think everything is forgiven.”
Michael sat down again.
“Going to see someone in the hospital doesn’t mean you forgive them.”
Claire looked at him.
“What if he dies?”
Michael took her hand.
“I think that’s what you’re really asking yourself.”
She pulled away, not because she disagreed, but because she did not want him to be right.
They postponed their flight that afternoon.
Chapter Seven – The Hospital Room
Thomas looked smaller in the hospital bed.
Claire had expected the sight of him to produce some overwhelming emotion, but her first reaction was practical discomfort.
The room smelled of disinfectant. A monitor displayed his heart rate. A plastic cup of water sat beside the bed, and someone had placed his glasses on a folded towel.
Thomas was asleep when she entered.
Ruth stood near the window.
“Thank you for coming,” her aunt whispered.
Claire did not answer.
She approached the bed and studied the man she had once known so intimately.
There was a scar near his chin from an accident in the garage. She remembered that. He had cut himself while repairing a lawn mower and insisted he did not need stitches until Evelyn threatened to drive him to the hospital herself.
Claire almost smiled.
Then Thomas opened his eyes.
For several seconds, he seemed confused.
When he recognized her, he tried to sit up.
“Don’t,” Claire said.
He stopped.
“You’re here.”
“Ruth called.”
Thomas nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
Claire looked toward the monitor.
“Apparently, you’re supposed to be resting.”
“I am.”
“You shouldn’t have come to the wedding.”
“I know.”
She waited.
Thomas swallowed.
“I wanted to see you get married. I thought if I stayed outside, it wouldn’t cause any trouble.”
“You could have asked.”
“I didn’t think you’d say yes.”
“I wouldn’t have.”
He accepted that.
Claire pulled a chair closer to the bed but did not sit.
“Why did you bring a letter?”
Thomas glanced toward Ruth.
Ruth quietly left the room.
“It’s something I should have given you a long time ago,” he said.
“What?”
“A key.”
Claire remembered the envelope.
“A key to what?”
“My storage unit. There’s a box there. Some things from when you were little.”
“Why would I want them?”
“I thought you might.”
She folded her arms.
“Did you think giving me a box of old photographs would make up for not being there?”
“No.”
“Then what was the point?”
Thomas looked at his hands.
“I don’t have a good answer.”
Claire felt the familiar anger rise.
He had always done this. He had allowed difficult questions to hang between them until she grew tired of asking.
“You left,” she said. “You missed birthdays, school concerts, my graduation. You didn’t even call when I got into university.”
“I know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I did those things.”
“Why?”
Thomas closed his eyes briefly.
“I thought I was doing what I had to do.”
“For money?”
