I grabbed the pad and wrote out the question.
How are you feeling?
Hungry.
I chuckled.
All right then.
Breakfast.
I stood and offered him my hand. And there weren’t a whole lot of things in the world that felt better than when he took it.
22
Hope
It was early afternoon when I heard a clatter in the foyer. The front door banged open then slammed shut. Two seconds later, Jenna stumbled through the kitchen archway.
Hair a mess. Clothes splattered with dough and streaked in frosting.
Frazzled and unnerved.
Her gaze darted to Evan, who was sitting on his knees on the stool next to me with his elbows propped on the counter as he Snapped with Josiah.
As if he hadn’t been through the trauma of yesterday.
Jenna had been at the coffee shop this morning when I’d called to let her know what had happened. The weekend manager had been short-staffed, so she’d gone in to pick up the slack.
She went right for him, hauling him into her arms, hugging him tight and peppering a bunch of sloppy kisses all over his head and face.
“Is he okay?” she asked, her eyes cutting up to me from over his head.
I nodded, fighting that rush of terror I was struck with when I thought of what might have been. Instead, I forced myself into focusing on the fact he was here.
Whole.
Healthy.
“He got a little out of breath. Chanda and Richard were concerned, so they rushed him in. He was fine by the time I got there.”
No. It hadn’t been our first urgent trip to the ER, and I hated to accept that it certainly wouldn’t be our last. But it was the life we lived. But it sure didn’t ever get any easier. Terrified that one day the diagnosis wouldn’t be so simple. That our worlds might be rocked once again.
“Thank God,” she said, squeezing him tighter. He pulled back, sending her a huge grin, shaking his head as if he thought she was being ridiculous.
She set him back on the stool and ruffled his hair before dropping down low to be sure he was watching her face. “You have to stop scaring me like that.”
He gave her an indulgent nod, signing, I DON’T MEAN TO SCARE YOU, AUNTIE.
Jenna only signed well enough to pick up on whatever my son was trying to say.
She ran a tender hand down the side of his face. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”
Evan immediately went back to his iPad.
Straightening, she ran both her palms over her face and blew a big puff of air between her lips.
She gave me that look, the one asking if I was okay.
I grimaced, not sure how to answer that question. Yesterday had been horrible, bad enough to drop me to my knees, and still one of the best days of my life.
I was struggling to process all the emotions roiling inside me.
I could still taste Kale on my breath and feel him on my skin.
“Yesterday was rough,” I told her, “but I promise I’m okay. I’m just thankful it turned out the way it did.”
I turned to make sure Evan couldn’t see me speaking before I set my attention back on Jenna. “You know I’m going to have to borrow more money to pay for that visit.”
We’d figured paying out of pocket for Evan’s medical care for a year was going to be steep. But we hadn’t prepared for any emergencies, praying we could eke by on the bare minimum, going with it, riding on the hope that it would all work out in the end.
“Don’t you dare mention money, Hope. I told you from the start, I’m in this with you.”
I blinked, pushing out the words around the heavy emotion in my throat. “I just hate that I’m putting your livelihood on the line, right along with mine. It isn’t fair to you, Jenna.”
“Pssh.” She waved me off with a wry grin. “Don’t give yourself so much credit. Who do you think the criminal mastermind is around here? If I hadn’t have come up with the idea, you never would have been in the middle of this. Just be thankful I’m your BFF—best friend felon.”
My brows lifted. “Best friend felon?”
“Um, I did go into a dark alley to make that happen. Doesn’t get more gangster than that.”
“So hardcore,” I teased her, letting myself latch on to her mood. Because she was right. It was all gonna work out. I just had to hold out a little longer.
“Hey, that dude was scaaaary,” she drew out, before she fanned herself. “And hot. On all things holy, that man was hotter than Hades. Hell, he might have been Lucifer himself.”
Only Jenna.
She dropped her smile. “But seriously, the last thing I want you worrying about is money. We’ll figure it out, no matter what. We’re almost to the end. We’ve got this, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good.”
Shucking off the heaviness, I grabbed a coffee mug from the cupboard and waved it toward her. “You want?”