"If you don't stop, I'm going to stick my fingers in my ears and start singing," she warned.
"Anything but that," Riley groaned. "I just had my eardrums repaired from the last time."
"Fuck off," she said. "I'm not that bad."
They both looked like they were going to argue when the doctor appeared from Jacob's room. All three of them shot to their feet. I was a moment behind, feeling like I was intruding on something I shouldn't be present for. I thought about stepping away, but Whitney grabbed my hand and held it, hers trembling.
"How is he?" Connor asked.
"He's going to be just fine," the doctor said. "The heart attack was mild and he got here in time. He's going to need to rest for the next while, but I expect him to make a full recovery."
"Thank goodness," Whitney whispered. "We'll make sure he rests, won't we?"
"Absofuckinglutely," Connor agreed. The relief on his face was tinged with something else. A hint of frustration? I couldn't get a read on it before it was gone, firmly pushed away with a firm nod.
"Thank you, Doctor Blair," Whitney said with a lot more genuine enthusiasm. "Can we see him?"
"For a little while," the doctor said. "No letting him overdo it or I'll have to throw all of you out." He nodded before disappearing down the short corridor into a room at the end.
"I'll wait out here." I gave Whitney's hand a squeeze before letting it go and sinking back into one of the chairs.
"Me too." Riley pressed a quick kiss to Connor's mouth before flopping down beside me.
Arms around each other, Connor and Whitney stepped into Jacob's room, closing the door behind them.
"They must be super relieved," I said.
"I would be," Riley said. "I mean, if it was my dad in there. Or my mum. How about you?"
I shifted uncomfortably, not just because of how hard the chair was under my rear.
"I dunno. I guess. My mother and I aren't close, but I don't want anything to happen to her."
"What about your father?" Riley asked.
"He left when I was little." I sipped the terrible coffee, which was quickly getting cold. "My stepfather and I aren't that close either." He always made it clear I wasn't biologically his.
"Any siblings?" Riley peeled off the lid of his coffee before downing the last of it.
"One stepbrother, Brooks. He's a couple of years older than me."
"Are you close?" Riley asked, eyebrows dipping as he smiled.
I made a face. "No. And especially no, not like that. My stepbrother is, I don't know, the golden child of the family."
My stepfather made sure he had everything, whereas I was never extended that same courtesy. Brooks had birthday parties and extravagant presents. I got practical gifts, like shoes. He was given a car. I had to buy my own. I was basically ignored when my stepfather's family spent Christmas with us. Reminded I wasn't biologically related to any of them except my mother. Although, she was just as cold.
"Why do I want to punch him in the face?" Riley mused.
"I don't know. It's not his fault how they treated us," I said. "I don't know if he had it much better, to be honest. My parents had high expectations for him. If he didn't meet them, they'd always grill him about why. Why was his report card straight As instead of A-plusses" I didn't know why I was telling him all of this. It was nice to have someone to confide in, I supposed. I would have told Whitney or Fiona, but the opportunity hadn't arisen. So, here I was, telling Riley instead. Or at least, telling him first.
"Did you get all A-plusses?" Riley asked. "Let me guess, you did and they didn't notice?" He seemed offended on my behalf.
"I didn't, but they wouldn't have noticed," I said. "I did okay. I was always better at art than anything academic."
"Painting and drawing," he said.
"Yes… And… Sculpture." Just saying the word made my heart ache. "Creating art out of things nobody wanted, that was always my thing. Making something pretty out of trash."
