Emily

“Son…” Charles appeared to be struggling for the right words as he ran his hand over his salt and pepper hair. It was the same gesture I saw so often in Ethan, and for a moment I forgot my anger.

I stood, giving Ethan’s hand a quick squeeze before I approached the couple and gripped Charles’s arm. “Take my chair. I’ll pull the other one around for Gail.”

He nodded, looking grateful as he edged his way closer to the bed.

“Dad.” Ethan gave a little nod, the edges of his mouth curling into a pained smile.

I took the flower arrangement from Gail and set it on the nightstand before pulling the chair around beside Charles. She patted my hand as she moved to slide into it but stopped before her rear hit the seat. Instead, she leaned over and smoothed the blankets over Ethan’s legs, tugging them down where they’d come undone and exposed his bare feet.

It was a motherly gesture, one my mom would have never thought to do but something I imagined Gail had done hundreds of times when her boys were small.

I don’t know why it touched me so deeply and caused my throat to knot up, but it did. From the look on Ethan’s face, it had the same effect on him, though I could guess why, in his case.

She was acting like his mother again, if only a little.

When she finished, she patted his leg and sat, looking like she was on the verge of breaking down.

Charles watched the whole thing with an expression I couldn’t quite name, his hand immediately reaching out for Gail’s when she was finished.

I took my place on the opposite side of the bed, sliding the IV pole aside so I could grip Ethan’s taped-up hand in mine.

No one spoke for a beat, with them studying their son and Ethan studying them right back, and me taking in the whole thing with fear and hope warring in my chest.

Like a lot of men from his generation, I could tell Charles was the quiet type when it came to situations like these. His expression said there was a lot on his mind, but I didn’t think he was the type to have heart-to-hearts.

Sure enough, when the time came to speak, Gail took the lead.

“Are you okay?” she asked Ethan. “Do you need anything? You thirsty?”

“I’m good, Mama. Thanks, though.” His voice was raspy, and I didn’t think it had to do with his injuries.

She nodded. “You gave everyone quite a scare, you know? I didn’t think we’d ever get here, and it was only a couple of hours’ drive.”

“You were that worried?” My God, the way he sounded, like he couldn’t believe they’d been frantically trying to get to him. Like it was a completely foreign concept.

My heart broke a little more at that soft, quiet question.

“Of course we were, Ethan. You’re our son. We love you.”

He stared at her then, his eyes roaming over her face like he was waiting for the punchline. “Then why don’t you act like it anymore? What did I do?” The break in his voice had nothing to do with his trouble breathing.

I had to turn away at that, though I was sure his parents saw my reaction. My whole face crumpled, and I had to fight back a sob. Ethan was focused only on them, thankfully, so he didn’t see, but Charles’s eyes were on me when I gathered myself and turned back.

When I met his gaze, I realized he was fighting the same battle as me.

Gail’s voice cracked when she said, “Sweet boy, you didn’t do anything. We’re the ones who failed you, just like we failed your brother. We did this.”

“You didn’t fail Ryan. It was an accident,” he managed, sounding out of breath.

I got him his water and held the straw while he sipped. After a grateful smile from him, we both returned our gazes to Gail.

She watched the two of us for a second, her eyes lingering on our joined hands. “We failed him. If we hadn’t made such a fuss, he probably would never have gone on that rafting trip in the first place.”

“He wanted to go, Momma. I remember.”

“Yes, he did. And we argued with him because finals were coming up, and we thought he needed to put off the trip until the semester break. Focus on his studies first. He actually agreed to wait…and then we started in on him about Cara.”

“What about Cara?”

Charles spoke up then, which surprised me. “We didn’t start in on him. I did. I told him he was too young to be getting engaged. That he needed to stop living in a fantasy world where he could marry young and become some famous artist and live in a damn fairytale. I told him the world didn’t work that way. That he was setting a bad example for you, and that you would expect to be some famous rock star and give up on ever having real, attainable goals.” His face pinched at the irony. “I pushed him too hard, said some things about him and Cara that I regret. He stormed out and refused to take our calls for the next few days. The rafting trip was that weekend, and he went, probably because he knew we wanted him not to. We pushed him, tried to rule over him, and he died because of it.” He dropped his head, and his shoulders shook.

Gail’s face was streaked with tears when she looked at Ethan. “After that, we were afraid to say anything, to push you or tell you not to rely on music. We didn’t trust our judgment anymore. When the music label came knocking later that year, and you wanted us to let you go, we did. And once you left to record that first album, we knew you’d chosen your path, and we thought it best not to interfere. You were okay on your own, and we were scared to death that we’d do something to ruin that for you, to hurt you like we hurt your brother.” She was bawling now, her face red and breaths coming out ragged and uneven. “You didn’t see his face when he walked out the door; you didn’t hear the awful things we all said to each other. Those were the last things we said. We can never take them back. He died hating us.”

“No, he didn’t.” Ethan’s face was a mask of anguish. “I talked to him the day he left, and he didn’t hate you. He understood.”

Charles’ head came up, and Gail watched Ethan with wide eyes.

“The last time we talked, he said you guys were trying to protect him because you didn’t understand, but he said you’d get it one day, you’d see how important Cara was to him, how important painting was. He had faith in you. And he had faith in me. He said we’d both be famous and make you proud.” Ethan gave a shallow cough but waved me off when I offered him more water. “He even said he’d paint us something kick-ass for us to use as an album cover, if we wanted. Said once it went triple platinum he’d get to see his painting all over the Billboard charts and in the Rock ’N Roll Hall of Fame. He had that much faith in the band, in me. And I needed that.”

Gail was sputtering, shaking, and close to totally falling apart. Charles pulled her into his side as she said, “We had faith in you too, sweetie. We just didn’t know how to show it. Every time the phone rang, we were afraid something we said would set you on a path to get hurt, some little comment would change your course somehow, and we’d have killed another son.”

There was so much pain in that room, so much regret and fear.

“I know I’m the outsider here, but if I may…?”

“You’re not an outsider, Emily. You’re my family too. Say what’s on your mind.” Ethan looked over at me with red-rimmed eyes, offering me a soft smile.

I smiled back and kissed his forehead before addressing the room. “I think maybe setting up some counseling sessions would be a great way to start mending this rift between you.”

Ethan nodded, looking at his parents. “I’m not going to be playing or touring or recording anytime soon. We can set up something here in the city, have a doctor come to my loft if necessary while I build my strength.”

Charles skewed his mouth, thinking. “But where would we stay all that time? Or would we have to drive back and forth for each session? Not that I don’t like the idea, I actually think it may help, but that’s a damn long commute.”

Ethan’s loft wasn’t big enough for them to stay there, especially not with him needing to stay in the master bedroom downstairs rather than the makeshift bed in the studio until he could safely navigate the stairs.

“Stay at my apartment,” I suggested. “I’m in the process of moving into the loft with Ethan. My building is nice, and it’s not far away. Plus, it’s furnished and comfy. I was going to sublet it anyway, so it’s really no big deal.”

“I’ll cover your expenses while you’re here.” Ethan was obviously excited about the idea of having them nearby.

It took a bit of convincing, mostly because they didn’t want to put anyone out, but eventually, they agreed. They’d go back home to gather what they needed and close up their house for their absence, but only after Ethan was released.

That night, they slept in the waiting room despite my offering repeatedly to take them to my apartment. The truth was, I was glad they stayed. One, because I didn’t want to leave Ethan, even for an hour or two. And two, because them staying in that uncomfortable waiting room, on those god-awful uncomfortable couches, showed Ethan their level of commitment to fixing things between them.

Since I was afraid to try and wedge myself into the hospital bed with him, I sweet talked one of the nurses into bringing in a convertible chair that stretched out into a bed. I pulled it as close as physically possible to Ethan’s bedside and wrapped up with a thin, industrial-looking blanket, holding his hand through the bedrails the nurses insisted on putting up.

His eyes had been closed for a while, and he seemed to be finally resting, so I let myself begin to drift. The monitors had been silenced, and the ward was quiet, which made his soft whisper easily heard.

“You made the call, didn’t you?”

I looked over and his eyes were still closed.

“I did.”

He didn’t say anything for a while and I wondered if he’d fallen asleep, if he’d even been awake to begin with.

Then, soft and faint, he said, “Thank you, my Emily.”

“You’re so welcome, my Ethan,” I whispered back.

He began softly snoring a moment later, and I smiled at the expression on his face.

Ethan Conspicuous Chase was sleeping as peacefully as I’d ever seen.