Page 112 of All the Beautiful Things
“What’s this?”
“The answers to all the questions you’ve had. Call the hospital, Lilly. You won’t sleep until you at least hear from a nurse that he’s okay.”
“You know me too well,” I grumbled, but he was right. “What if they don’t want to talk to me?” No. That wasn’t my largest fear. “What if they still hate me?”
“Then you will be reminded of what you already know—you’re too good for them and they don’t deserve you anyway, regardless of health or circumstance.”
Somewhere deep I’d known that. Known I deserved better than what I’d been given for parents and yet it wasn’t until Hudson showed me what true family was like I truly believed it. Even then, it was just beginning to really make sense.
I resettled myself on the bed, sitting straight up and crisscrossing my legs. Fidgeting with my shirt, I handed his phone back to him. “Can you unlock it?”
“My password is zero seven one five.”
“That’s my birthday,” I muttered offhandedly, tugging at my top, swiping my now wet palms down my thighs.
“I know.” He said it with a weight to it that I looked up at him, practically gaping.
He gave me a knowing look that heated me straight to my toes. “You set my birthday as your password?”
“Last summer. When Dad went and saw you at the diner.”
“You are a fool, you know.”
“For waiting so long to go see you myself, I agree.”
I shook my head. Amazed and equally amused. He’d been so sure of me even when he fought against it. And yet I’d fought him even while he showed me who he was and how much he cared.
What a bunch of wasted time for two people who’d lost so much already.
I kissed him softly and didn’t linger and then ducked to the phone.
“Room four eighteen. Can you remember that?”
Not that I’d forget but I pressed the phone number highlighted on his texts from Shawn. An address was above them, and while I caught a glance of my parents’ new address, I paid the rest no attention.
My hands trembled and adrenaline roared through me while the phone rang once, then twice before an automated system came through the line.
Every moment the shrill voice lasted was a moment my breath held until finally, I’d pressed zero enough times, listened to enough horrific elevator music when a woman on the other end answered.
“Yes, I’m calling in regards to a patient at your hospital. I was wondering if you could tell me his status? Or direct me to his nurses?”
“That information is reserved for family.”
“I’m… I’m his daughter. Joshua Huntington. He should be in the cardiac unit or floor, or… room four eighteen, I believe.” My voice sounded like I’d swallowed a mouthful of sand.
“One moment, please.”
Hudson tugged me to his side, one hand at my thigh, the other over my arms, encasing me in his strength, and yet as I listened to more elevator music, I found while I appreciate it, I didn’t need it.
I was learning how to be strong enough on my own when it came to my parents.
Finally.
I turned my head, glanced at Hudson.
“You okay?”
“I will be,” I assured him.
