He was glad he had tamped down his expectations. Nathan had wanted to see his dad’s eyes open, to have a conversation with him. But still, Dad was conscious. That was the best news he’d heard in days.
Nathan took in his father’s features. His face was still gaunt, but his color had definitely improved. The stress lines in his forehead and around his eyes appeared more relaxed and maybe even peaceful. The tension in Nathan’s shoulders eased, though Dad wasn’t out of the proverbial woods yet.
He moved to sit on the small sofa against the wall. Erin joined him.
“Has he spoken yet?” Nathan kept his voice down.
“No. He wasn’t able to respond to the doctor’s questions.”
Pain clawed his soul. “But he can still get better, right?”
“There’s hope, yes. The doctor said it would take time. His brain has been through a major trauma. We don’t know how much he will remember or be able to do. He will need therapy.”
Years of it.
Nathan swallowed and keenly felt the lump in his throat. “At least he’s alive. He survived.”
And Nathan would continue to focus on that fact. He squeezed his eyes shut as unwelcome images flooded his mind. Dad falling forward into the water and Nathan discovering the gunshot wound. All the blood.
His pulse raced.
Erin took his hand and squeezed. “Are you okay?”
“I will be.” He opened his eyes and looked at his father. He wouldn’t think about what happened by the river or dwell in the past and what might have been had Dad stayed in Big Rapids. Stayed with his family. Nathan would focus on the here and now.
And right now, his father could still very well be in danger. That wouldn’t change until they captured the shooter, along with everyone involved.
“I’m glad Dad has pulled out of it. And he’s going to get better.” Nathan held his mother’s gaze. “I’m glad he has you here to support him.” He stopped there. No point in asking questions about the past.
“I know you wanted more information about what happened,” she said. “If he wakes up again, I’ll ask him to share what he can tell me and pass it on to you.”
Considering the deaths supposedly linked to Dad’s investigation, Nathan wasn’t entirely sure he wanted Mom asking questions and relaying answers. But they needed to learn the truth.
“You look like you could use some rest,” he said. “I’ll take you home for some sleep, then bring you back later.”
Her lips flattened as she shook her head. “I have a room at the hotel across the street.”
“Mom, this could be weeks and months. You can’t stay here indefinitely.” The man isn’t even your husband!
She stared at her hands. “I know. But I don’t see anyone else here with him. That breaks my heart. And ... besides ... a few months ago, your father gave me power of attorney in case something happened.”
What? Nathan hadn’t known. When she lifted her eyes to Nathan, he saw that she still loved his father. Deeply. And that broke his heart.
“I’m glad you and Dad remained friends over the years, after the divorce.” The comment escaped unchecked, rising from his own miserable thoughts and questions—including why they had divorced to begin with. Was now really the time to bring that up?
“Mm-hmm.”
So that’s all he would get on that.
“How was your trip to Boston?” she asked. “Did you learn anything?”
“Like everything in my life right now, I have more questions.” His mother didn’t need the added burden of knowing all he was dealing with, but she might be able to supply some answers, and it was worth the risk. “What do you know of his life in Boston?”
“We kept on friendly terms for your sake. Your father wanted to know about your life.”
“He could have called me.” Or come to see me or invited me to see him.
“And he did. I know there were Christmases he missed with you because he had a girlfriend.”