Dennis didn’t crack a smile, and though he tried to hold on to the flute, it fell to the ground once more.

“Dennis?” Mom said.

No smile. No response.

“Dennis, what’s the matter?”

Then, “Oh my God. Someone help me!”

That’s when I approached them, along with several others.

“Get Melanie!” someone shouted.

It’s all a blur after that.

“Come back to me, baby,” my mom croons to Dennis in the back seat. “Please.”

I’m nauseated. Not just in my belly and my throat. My whole body is nauseated. Every nook and cranny feels sick, as if I’m being poisoned.

My mother’s voice is puke brown as she tries to bring her new husband back to her.

Puke brown.

And I know what that means.

It means whatever news we’re going to get at the hospital isn’t going to be good.

This happened to me once before, back on the streets, when one of our tent neighbors died.

The people trying to help him all sounded pukey and brown. To this day, I don’t know what took him. Could have been anything. Maybe pneumonia. Maybe cancer. I was just a kid, and we were homeless. No one knew how or why the man died. No one but us cared.

We finally make it to the ER. Dee hands off the keys to the valet, and I run inside to get a wheelchair. An orderly follows me out, and somehow we manage to get Dennis into the chair.

“What happened here?” someone asks when we get into the ER.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. My mom is equally immobilized.

Thank God for Dee. “We think he might be having a stroke. He can move, but he hasn’t spoken since it happened about a half hour ago. Or a heart attack, maybe. His chest seems to be hurting.”

“Why didn’t you call the squad?”

“We live on a ranch. We figured we could get here quicker.”

“Always better to call the squad,” the person says.

“Then we’d have waited longer for them to get to us.” Dee shakes her head. “Just take care of him. Please.”

Dennis is rushed back, and Mom goes with him.

Finally, I let myself breathe.

Dennis will get the care he needs here. I just hope it’s enough. My mom can’t lose her husband two days after their wedding. She just can’t.

Dee leads me to a chair in the waiting area. “Come on. Sit. All we can do now is wait.”

“This was a celebration,” I say, more to myself than to Dee.

“I know. I’m so sorry, Ash.”

“My mom is happier than I’ve ever seen her. She deserves happiness. More than anyone else, she deserves happiness.”

Dee smiles weakly but says nothing. What is there to say?

The atmosphere in the ER waiting room is dull gray.

Until Dale rushes in.

I stand abruptly and run to him, right into his arms, so hard I nearly knock my giant of a husband off his feet.

“Hey.” He kisses the top of my head. “Tell me what’s going on.”

I can’t speak. I’m numb. I simply crush my head to him and shake it. He edges me slowly over to where Dee is sitting.

“We don’t know anything yet,” Dee says.

“Stroke?” Dale asks.

“That’s what Aunt Mel thinks, but they just went back a little while ago. We don’t know anything.”

A nurse comes out then. “Miss White?”

I finally remove my head from Dale’s shoulder. “That’s me, I guess.” Or Mrs. Steel. Whatever. I’ve been Mrs. Steel for only two days.

“Your mother asked me to fill you in,” she says. “Mr. James is showing signs of a stroke, but we need to do some testing to get a firm diagnosis. In the meantime, he’s been given an injection of recombinant tissue plasminogen activator.”

“English, please,” Dale says.

“And you are…?”

“Her husband.”

“Of course. It’s a treatment that dissolves the clot and increases blood flow to the brain. If it’s administered within three hours of a stroke, it significantly improves the chances of recovery.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “It’s only been an hour or so. I think.” Time has kind of suspended itself.

“You did the right thing by getting him here so quickly,” she says. “Though it would have been better to call an emergency vehicle.”

“We were in a rural area,” I say, repeating what Dee said when we got here.

“Still, that’s the best—”

“They got him here,” Dale interrupts. “And in record time. Is now really the best time to lecture my wife when her stepfather is in serious condition?”

The nurse cocks her head and regards Dale. “You look familiar to me. Have we met?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’m sure we ha— You’re Dale Steel. From Steel Vineyards.”

Dale nods.

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Because I’m Dale Steel? You’re rude to others?”

The nurse reddens. “I have to get back. Again, I’m sorry. You did the right thing.” She scurries off.

“How did she know you?”

“I have no idea. From the news, maybe. The fire. Plus, I was just here when my birth father died.”

“Right. Amazing, though,” I say.

“What?”

“How she treated us differently once she found out who you were.”

“Stupid, is more like it.”

“I’ll take what I can get. She’s going to go back there and tell them who you are, and they’ll push Dennis to the top of the list.”

“He’s a possible stroke case. If he’s not already at the top of the list, there’s something wrong with this hospital.” Dale turns to Dee. “You can go ahead home. I’ve got the truck, and I’ll stay with Ashley.”

Dee nods. “Okay. Call if you need anything, and keep us posted, please.”

“We will,” Dale says. “I’ll walk you out. Will you be okay for a few minutes?” he says to me.

I simply nod. After the nurse thing, I’m done talking for a while.

Chapter Thirty-Seven