Beside them, Elena looked from one to the other. "What the hell are you two talking about?"
"I'm fucking Easton," Selma said, choosing her words intentionally because it was so much fun to shock Elena. "But keep it a secret, okay?"
"But you're leaving for Scotland soon!"
"Maybe he's my grand send-off," Selma said, although the words tasted bitter on her tongue. "Either way, we're having fun."
"Speak of the devil," Hannah said, as Easton approached.
"You three look like you're getting into mischief."
"Always," Hannah said, as Selma's phone chirped, the tone signaling that it was Matthew.
She pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and went cold.
911.
"Excuse me." She stepped away, her heart pounding as she called her brother.
"Dad's had a heart attack," he said without preamble. Hell, she hadn't even heard the phone ring.
"Oh, God. Is he--"
"Fine. Stable. He's in a hospital in China. Mom says they're taking care of him. She tried to call you, too, but said it kept disconnecting."
"Are they coming home? Can I call her?"
"You can try. She said she'd email you when she had a moment. As for coming home, they're going to take a cruise back. She says it'll force Dad to rest."
Selma closed her eyes and nodded. When she opened them again, the women and Easton were looking at her with concern. "It's my dad. He's fine, but he had a heart attack." She aimed a thin smile at Easton. "Thank you for the ticket. I loved seeing the animals. But if you don't mind, I think I'm going to go home. I feel a little raw."
A thousand emotions seemed to shift over his face, and she knew that whatever he wanted to say, he couldn't in public. Right then, she didn't even care. She felt numb, and after she said her goodbyes, she drove home on autopilot, then curled up on her couch without even being certain how she managed to get inside.
She dozed for a few hours, then checked her email. As promised, her mother had sent an email updating her on her dad's status, which, thankfully, wasn't too scary. Honestly, it was the part her mother had tagged on at the end that made Selma's nerves twitch.
Sweetie, I know you're tired of hearing the same song from me, but I have to say it to you one more time--please stop playing Hopscotch through your life. I'm afraid that this close call with your father will push you the opposite direction. That you will imagine the pain of losing him and once again push everyone close in your life away simply so that you will have done it to them before they do it to you. You think I don't see that, but I do. I'm your mother, yes, but I had the benefit of watching you at first with a stranger's eyes. And I see you better than you think I do. And I love you for everything I see, but it worries me as well.
I want you to be happy and settled, but settled doesn't mean that you can't still travel and have fun. I want your life to be exciting and memorable. But don't hop about so much that you only land on the mountaintops. Take time to explore the ground beneath you. Live your life, Selma. Don't just bounce through it. Take time to love and to learn. I promise you, any pain that comes with it is a small price to pay for being connected.
I love you always and Dad and I will see you when we make port in the US. Until then, think of us sunning and relaxing on the deck of a ship. And also think about what I've said.
Much love and kisses forever,
Mom
* * *
Selma tried to read the email twice, but with the tears filling her eyes, she couldn't. Instead, she hugged her phone close and closed her eyes, willing sleep--only to sit bolt upright when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry." Easton's voice washed over her. "You left your door unlocked."
She sat up, groggy, and realized she'd been dozing. "What time is it? The benefit's already over?"
"I left early. I would have been here sooner, but I didn't know your address. I had to swing by the office and look it up."
"Home sweet home," she said, indicating the efficiency apartment that took up part of the distillery's second floor. She frowned. "You left early?"
"I was worried about you."