A sudden weariness overtook his features. He pressed a hand to his chest, and Lucas immediately moved toward the bed.
“Dad?”
“I’m all right.”
But he wasn’t. His breathing had become shallow.
I stepped closer.
“Should I call the nurse?”
“No. Just give me a minute.”
Lucas adjusted the blanket and pressed the call button anyway. Douglas didn’t protest.
I looked down at the document.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this when you first called?”
“Because I needed you to come for me, not for a house.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No,” he agreed. “It isn’t.”
The nurse entered a moment later, checked his monitor, and asked him a few questions. Douglas answered quietly. She reassured us that his numbers had simply dipped and that the medication would help.
I stood beside the bed while Lucas stepped into the hallway.
When the nurse left, Douglas’s eyes opened.
