Chapter 8 - The Hospital Wristband
Two weeks later, Harold was taken to the county hospital after nearly fainting while repairing a fence line.
A neighbor called Benjamin.
By the time he arrived, Toby was asleep in the car and Sandra was gripping a paper cup of vending-machine coffee like it might keep her from saying the wrong thing.
Harold looked annoyed to find himself in a bed.
“Dehydration and a heart rhythm problem,” the doctor said. “Nothing immediately catastrophic, but he needs monitoring and follow-up.”
Immediately catastrophic.
The phrase stayed with Benjamin.
Martha Cline visited the hospital the next morning with a clipboard and a folder.
“I can come back later,” she offered.
Harold shook his head.
“No sense waiting.”
Benjamin stepped into the hall to give them privacy, but he couldn’t help hearing part of the conversation through the cracked door.
“If you still want the same trustees,” Martha said, “we should finalize before the option closes.”
Trustees.
Plural.
Not just Toby.
Not just Harold.
Something more structured had been planned.
When Martha left, Benjamin went back in.
Harold was looking out the window.
“Dad, are you dying?”
Harold turned sharply.
“Not this week.”
Benjamin laughed despite himself.
Then he nearly cried.
“I don’t know what you’re doing with those papers.”
“You will.”
“Why not tell me now?”
Harold studied his son’s face.
“Because some things sound like punishment if you hear them too early.”
Benjamin did not understand.
But he understood enough to know the decision had already been made, or was close to it.
Toby woke later and asked if Grandpa would still make it to his school reading night in May.
Harold squeezed his hand.
“That depends on whether your father keeps driving me to cardiology.”
May you like
Benjamin said yes before he even thought about schedules.
It was the first promise in months he made without checking whether it was convenient.
