Until Friday Night (A Field Party Book 1)

MAGGIE

They took him to the hospital in an ambulance. I need you.

I kept reading West’s text over and over as Aunt Coralee, Uncle Boone, Brady, and I drove to the hospital.

He hadn’t given me details. He just said he needed me. I had jumped out of bed and gotten dressed without thinking of how I was going to get to the hospital. When I hurried into the hallway to go to the bathroom so I could brush my teeth, Uncle Boone had been walking up the stairs with the morning paper. I’d handed him my phone so he could see the text message. He read it, then went to wake up Aunt Coralee and Brady.

No one was talking. Brady kept bouncing his knee nervously as he stared out the window. He’d been the first one in the living room after his dad had woken them all up. The panic written across his face was what only a real friend would feel.

I wasn’t sure I’d had that, not from any of my friends. I was thankful West did.

“I need to tell the guys,” Brady finally said. “It’s time they knew. They’ll want to be there with him too.”

Uncle Boone nodded. “I agree. After we get there and you’ve seen them, you can go find a quiet place and call. But not the whole team. Just the ones he’s close to. He needs his real friends around him right now.”

I wasn’t sure West would want that, but if this was the end, then he needed it.

“Did he text you?” Brady asked me.

I nodded.

“Did he give you any details?”

I shook my head and handed him my phone.

He read the text several times before handing back the phone to me.

“Thank you,” he said. “For being there for him. I don’t understand whatever it is y’all have, but thank you.”

He didn’t have to thank me. It was West. I’d do anything for him.

My phone dinged, and we all tensed up. I wanted to hurry and get to him.

He has a tumor pressing against a vein or something. They have him back there. That’s all I know. We’re on the fourth floor left wing waiting room.

I quickly typed: We are on our way. Almost there.

Then I handed the phone to Brady. He read the text to his parents. Then the phone dinged again, and he read the incoming text silently before handing it to me:

Good. I need you here.

I closed my eyes tightly and prayed. I wasn’t sure what to pray for because I knew West’s dad couldn’t be saved from this. But I prayed anyway.

Once we arrived at the hospital, Uncle Boone let us out at the entrance before he went to park. I didn’t wait on anyone. I ran inside and headed for the elevators. If West got the news his dad had passed away, I wanted to be there beside him. I wanted him to have what I hadn’t. Someone who understood.

When the elevator door opened, I hurried on and pressed the button. When the doors opened again on the fourth floor, there stood West. His eyes were bloodshot, and they locked on mine. He’d been waiting on me.

“Hey,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

I stepped out of the elevator and reached out my hand to take his. “Hey.”

“They just let Mom go back,” he said, tightening his hold on my hand and pulling me closer to him. “Said he was stable, but there isn’t much they can do other than try to make him comfortable.”

For months he’d feared going to sleep and waking up to find his dad gone. Today was a close call. I threaded my fingers through his. “Let’s go back to the waiting room. They’ll come get you soon.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

The white walls were so sterile. Hospitals had always felt cold to me. I wouldn’t want to die here. I’d like to die somewhere I loved, somewhere that made me feel safe. Which, finally, made me realize what I would pray for. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer that Jude Ashby didn’t have to die here. That he could die at home. A place he loved.

“Who brought you?” West asked as I opened my eyes.

“Uncle Boone, Aunt Coralee, and Brady. They’re right behind me. I just ran when we got out of the car. I didn’t want you to be here . . . without me.”

West’s hand squeezed mine, then he brushed his thumb against my thumb. “Thank you.”

I remembered his text about needing me. He needed me for his own reasons. Ones I understood. But I needed him, too. Because in three short weeks he’d wedged his way into my heart.

I’d realized this morning, after seeing that text and not being there with him, that nothing was as important as getting to this hospital. I had never been in love, so I had nothing to compare it to, but there was no question in my mind that West Ashby had become the most important person in my life. I was in love with him. I could be whatever it was he needed me to be. Even if that would always be just a friend.