Chapter 41

Daniel sat helpless, watching Laurie grapple with her emotions in the hospital waiting room. He wanted to pull her into his arms, but she resembled an agitated porcupine.

Johnny paced the floor, apparently ready to bolt if someone so much as looked at him wrong.

Daniel blew a long stream of air between his lips. If only they could have gotten to Ray before he’d sampled his wares. He dropped his head into his hands, suddenly understanding his grandfather’s philosophy.

Laurie’s luminous gaze remained locked on the door through which her father had disappeared, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap.

“I’m going back to the house to finish cleaning up the . . . the mess,” Johnny scowled. “Just in case.”

Laurie glared at him, crimson lips curling back from her teeth. “Is that all you can think about? Saving your skin?”

Johnny took a step forward, lines forming around his eyes. “I can’t stay here. I’m going crazy.”

“We all are.”

Daniel stood, hesitant to step between the battling siblings. “Your place is here, Johnny. What if the worst happens?”

“Then there ain’t much I can do, is there?”

“Just let him leave, Daniel,” Laurie said, dropping back into her seat. “It’s what he does. He runs away and leaves me to pick up the pieces.”

Johnny squeezed his fingers into a fist. “And I’m the one who does all the dirty work to keep the family intact.”

Laurie breathed out. “Dirty work is right. That’s all you know how to do.”

Daniel saw Johnny surge forward and stepped to intercept him. Their shoulders collided with a crunch. Gripping Johnny’s elbows, he steered him toward the door. “That’s enough. Go home. Do what you have to do.”

Johnny shook himself free and jabbed a finger in Laurie’s direction. “If he dies, this’ll be your fault. You’re the one who made me stop bringing him the clean stuff.” His eyes showed red around the edges. “Your fault—you hear me?”

Fire scorched through Daniel. Grabbing Johnny’s shirt, he yanked him through the doorway and out onto the sidewalk, sending Johnny stumbling backward. “Don’t say something you’re going to regret.”

Johnny spit on the ground. “Regret’s my middle name.”

Hot tears spilled down Laurie’s face as the truth of Johnny’s words echoed in her head. The room spun and she lowered her face into her hands. Ten years without a mother and soon she’d be fatherless, too, all because she wanted him to be more than he was. Why was she so selfish? God, I know he’s a hopeless drunk, but he’s my dad. She pressed a handkerchief against her lips.

A gentle hand touched her knee. Daniel crouched on his heels in front of her. She fell against his chest.

He rocked back slightly, adjusting for her weight. “You didn’t do this.”

“Yes,” she gulped, “I did. I wanted him to quit drinking, but he couldn’t. I wanted him to be like everyone else’s fathers. Why couldn’t I just love him as he was?”

Daniel slipped his hand under her chin and lifted it. His brow furrowed. “You wanted the best for him. He’s an adult, so he makes his own choices. You didn’t pour that stuff down his throat.”

She pushed down the surge of sorrow boiling up from her gut. “I might as well have.”

He sighed and got to his feet. Sitting in the next chair, he pulled her close.

A nurse entered the room, silver hair glistening under her white cap, her cheeks wrinkled pouches that sagged over her jaw. She tapped a pen against her clipboard. “Burke?”

Daniel stood, gripping Laurie’s hand. “Over here.”

The nurse frowned, a crease pinching between her eyes, and walked over to them. She glanced down at her paper. “You the son?”

Laurie lifted her head. “I’m his daughter.”

The nurse shot a disinterested glance at Laurie before turning to address Daniel. “Mr. Burke is stable for now. There’s nothing else we can do but wait. If he makes it through the night, you can see him in the morning.”

Laurie sagged against Daniel’s arm.

“Can we speak to the doctor?” Daniel asked.

The woman shot him a dark look. “In the morning.”