Eric couldn't see out the window, but it seemed they'd been in the ambulance for some time now. "What's taking so long to get to the hospital?" he asked a medic.

"We've been re-routed to Dillon Hospital. Your father's going to need the facilities there."

Eric didn't correct the medic. He didn't correct the hospital worker either when, after he tried to follow the gurney in, she stopped him and said, "You can't go in there with your father. You need to wait out here."

But he finally corrected the woman who brought him the paperwork. "I'm not actually his son. I can't do any of this. I need to call his wife."

Eric hoped Mrs. Hayes would answer the phone, because he dreaded having to give this news to Tami. But Tami answered. He was sure he stumbled over his words. He wasn't the commanding presence he'd planned to be. For a moment, it even sounded like Tami dropped the phone.

By the time the Hayes girls arrived, however, he'd told himself Tami needs you to be strong so many times that he thought maybe he actually was.

And yet, Tami hardly seemed to notice him there. Her mother even made her thank him once. He understood she was in a state of shock, but he hoped his presence was making the whole thing just a little easier for her. It was Mrs. Hayes who leaned hardest on him. He did what he could, talking her through the paperwork and reading her the Bible verses she seemed to need for comfort.

At one point, he took Tami's hand. He did it to comfort her, and he only meant to squeeze it for a moment and then let go, but she held on. His fear for the Reverend and his anxiety for Tami's suffering weaved like tentacles around the delight he felt in the warmth of her flesh, in the intimacy of that modest physical connection.

[*]

Eric walked hesitantly into the room. The heart monitor beeped and blipped. The Reverend was awake. "Hey, Eric," he said cheerfully, clearly more cognizant of his surroundings now than he had been last night. "Have a seat."

Eric drew a chair up by the bed and sat down. He tried not to laugh when he recalled what the Reverend had said the previous night, in his drug-addled haze, about his wife's lovely tits.

"Tami just left a few minutes ago."

"She did?" Eric was sorry to have missed her. They'd talked in church that morning, and she'd seemed genuinely grateful for his help. It had pleased him to see her gratitude. He'd felt a faint hope that maybe their dramatic night together would spark her feelings for him, and then he'd felt horribly guilty for that hope. What was he doing, wishing on a man's almost-grave? The Reverend lay before him now, hair disheveled, looking unusually small and weak in his hospital gown, and that weakness unnerved Eric. "If you're too tired for another visitor- "

"- Stay. I'm bored out my skull here, and my roommate isn't much company. Coma patients so rarely are."

Eric smiled. That was the vibrant Reverend he knew. "A'ight. I'm happy to."

"How was church this morning?"

Tami had looked tired, and worried, but still gorgeous in that dark green church dress. Eric wanted to hold her, to tell her everything was going to be fine. "A'ight. We all prayed for you."

"Linda told me you were a great help to her yesterday. Thank you for that. Thank you for watching out for all my girls while this craziness was going on."

"Sure. How…how you feeling?"

"Not the best I've ever felt. But I'm alive."

"I guess you won't be hanging out at the bar much in the future," Eric said, as hint of disappointment tinging his voice. He hated to think their bar chats might be drawing to an end.

"Well, I might come by after I recover a bit. They say they're cutting me loose on Monday or Tuesday. But I won't be drinking anymore beer. Or soda. My wife's already drawn up my list of thou shalt nots. She says I have to switch to unsweet tea. That's just un-American. I might as well be dead."

"Well, I'm glad you're not."

"So, who do we say won the pool game? Was I ahead?"

Eric laughed. "Yeah, you were ahead. I'd say that whole falling to the ground thing counted as a forfeit on your part, but I don't think you're ready to throw in the towel just yet."

The Reverend sat forward slightly in the bed. "You bring a deck of cards by chance?"

"Nah. But I can run get one in the gift shop."

"Do. I've got a hunkering for some Jin Rummy. If you've got the time."

Eric would have made the time, even if he hadn't had it.

Once Eric returned with the deck, they played for thirty minutes, talking about nothing serious: sports, music, the weather, movies, novels, school…quiet chit chat, like the slap of cards on the hospital tray, a peaceful lull against the backdrop of traipsing feet in the hallway, the crackling of intercoms, and the beeping of machines.

[*]

The Reverend's face screwed up after he sipped the unsweet tea. "You know she's making me eat a salad with dinner every night too?'

"She's just worried about you," Eric told him. They were sitting at one of the high tables not far from the bar, the Reverend with his unsweet tea, and Eric with his bottle of root beer. Eric got one on the house every Saturday. If he wanted more, his father said, he had to pay for it out of his own pocket. It was supposed to teach him financial responsibility. "And it does look like you've lost a couple pounds."

"I wasn't precisely a whale before. I'm only moderately overweight. Even my doctor is pretty sure my heart attack had more to do with genes than diet."

"But it'll give your wife a sense of comfort if you eat better and exercise more. And it won't hurt you."

"Oh how the tables have turned!" The Reverend smiled. "So are you the one giving relationship advice now?"

Eric had hoped he'd forgotten what they were talking about when he had his heart attack. No such luck.

"Still biding your time with the girl?" the Reverend continued. "She seem anymore interested?"

She did seem a little more interested to Eric. Tami was spending more time with him around school lately. Finding him between classes. Thanking him more than necessary for small kindnesses. Still asking about his interest in other girls, but in a different way than she had before - not like she was trying to set him up, but more like she was afraid of what he might answer. Sometimes, he could swear she was flirting with him, and twice, he'd almost dared to ask her out. But he hadn't quite been able to bring himself to do it. What if he was reading her cues all wrong? He'd never been the most brilliant guy when it came to deciphering girls. What if he made a move, and she said no? Would she feel awkward around him after that? Stop hanging out with him? Would he lose even the walks home from the coffee shop?

"I don't know," Eric answered. "Want to play some darts? You up to it?"

The Reverend nodded to the far wall of the bar. "I was thinking something more along the lines of pinball."

Eric grinned. "Now there's something I could beat you at. I'm a pinball wizard. I'm the one with the high score on that machine."

"You mean, since your dad re-set it?"

"Oh, I see how this is going to go," Eric said as he stood. "You're gonna trash talk your way through this whole competition."

The Reverend chuckled as he followed Eric to the pinball machine.